But it was 4 am and I was awake because the Puppy had yet another weird dream with coloured balls and I had sent the mother off to the guest room in the hope that she'd get a half-decent night's sleep already, so there I was... awake.
Toshiba laptops are shit unless you love the constant scream of jet engines spooling up. Word to the wise.
Mildly Naughty Puppy more or less trashed Pooh some months ago with about 14 spills too many. The thing has 10 buttons for various story/song snippets and an entire row was gone which stopped all of the thing from working.
"I'll get it."
And I did. And I meant it. Except that I started but didn't finish because there are so many other fucking things to get done and I had to do them to.
But it was during this quiet, dark period on a Sunday morning at 4:15am with the Puppy binkified and sleeping comfortably again that I remembered or realised or something, that she doesn't know from making sure the 2,000 gallon oil tank is full for the winter or that the humidifier needs to be running so the piano doesn't break. Papa said he would fix Pooh and he started and there's Pooh and Pooh still doesn't work.
Two fucking hours because not only do certain kinds of cereal turn into concrete so strong the World Trade Centre should have been built with that shit, my fingers ain't anywhere close to the delicacy of the §1.17/week Chinese workers who make these toys.
Pooh works again. And when the Froglet wakes up she'll be happy. Papa did what he said he would do. He's working hard on that one.
The wife is awake now and she can't find the fucking battery cover either. We both saw it only a couple of days ago.
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