Just another “typical” day

What is a typical day?

Not only do I not know, I’m not even sure I would know it if I saw it. Such is the life around our house. I don’t think typical days at our house would pass for anything close to normal in most houses.

Here’s an example from just the other day . . .

I was excited. It was a BIG day. Not because of anything I had accomplished. Or a promotion or new job or finding a million dollars under my pillow. Nope, this was a big day because (cue the drum roll) I had ordered the horrendously bad movie Troll 2, and it had come in the mail that very day!

I’m really not sure which is sadder: the fact that I like these movies, or that I actually get excited about them.

I picked it up from the post office around 2:30, and the rest of the day was pretty much shot. I mean really, how could anyone be expected to concentrate knowing that they were about to get to watch Troll 2?

So I get home, all set to watch the newest addition to my bad movie collection, when my son pulls a drawing out of his backpack. And he follows it up with this explanation:

“I’ve come up with a plan to take over Japan.”

My only response was two words: Ugh?

I mean, what do you say to something like that? Take over Japan? How about learn to clean your room before you take part in world domination. I think even Napoleon had to clean his room (and maybe even milk the cows) before he was allowed to build armies. (Which reminds me of a bad kids joke: Where did Napoleon keep his armies? In his sleevies).

His plan was quite ingenious (as you can see from the drawing). He planned to use one of Japan’s greatest gifts to the world. His plan: to turn Godzilla (left) along with Godzilla Jr. (right) against their own creators in Japan to help him conquer the country.

Hmmmmmmm. I’m not sure about that one. I think he might be better off sticking inventions for time travel and terraforming.

After he shared his plan with me, he then swore he would NOT watch Troll 2 – a promise that last about four minutes and nine seconds. And then he was laughing harder at it than I was.

And then there was my daughter. She wouldn’t even watch the movie with us. She claimed she had some homework or something worthwhile to do. And people think I’m strange . . .

I’ll have to admit, our version of “typical” probably doesn’t match yours. But really, aren’t we all a little (or mostly) untypical? Isn’t that what makes each of our families special.

I know I wouldn’t trade mine for anything. And I bet you wouldn’t either.