We'll always have awkward laughter

So on the phone the other day, The Archaeologist suggested that my near solitude may be affecting my sense of humor. He's been up in the mountains for 1-2 weeks at a time, coming home for 2-3 days and then heading back up. I watch The Daily Show now and then to keep informed on U.S. current events, and had hoped that as a by-product, my gauge for what's funny would also be up-to-date. Apparently not (though I in no way blame Jon Stewart). After finishing what I had thought was a funny story, The Archaeologist kind of laughed, but I'm pretty sure it was solely meant as a leavening lead-in for the above comment. Upon quick reflection, I consented that yeah, the story wasn't actually that funny and laughed at what was now funny - me. But I figured the situation couldn't be that dire if I could so quickly realize that I strayed. I wasn't in denial - no intervention necessary - just a simple outside observation to set me straight.

Then today Half-O was watching some YouTube videos of classic sesame street and animated songs meant to teach her the letter sounds while I read an e-book on the other side of the screen. When her video ended, I saw a link to a video entitled "Flashcards for Kids...", and thought Half-O might find it both interesting and informative, so I clicked on it. After about 30 seconds I was dying laughing.

Have I lost it? Is this funny? It's been viewed a ton, so I thought maybe it had been one of those viral videos that lots of people found funny, but all the comments talked about how much their kid liked it - and to be honest, Half-O did like it (though not for the whole 7 min). But seriously, tell me if this is funny:

If you can make it to 2:29, you get George Michael.

Now, I don't find it the most hilarious thing ever, but if you just clicked on it looking for another educational distraction for your child, you'd laugh too, wouldn't you? The background music is awesome (Striesand's Woman in Love??), and a lot of the words unintentionally (I assume) come out sounding sarcastic/mocking/chiding.

But please - what do you think?

6 in one hand, bad dates in the other

As of today, we have been in Peru for 6 months. 6 months more and it'll be time to go home. So, I had planned on doing a post about all that, but it just wasn't coming together. Instead, I give you:

Indiana Half-Jones

Fortune and Glory

I blame you, Montesquieu

I applaud the checks and balances of the United States' governing bodies. I do not, however, feel the same measures are necessary for my household chores. Apparently, others feel differently.

In order for me to do the laundry, I first have to do the dishes since the washer empties into the kitchen sink (there's no dish washer, so no need to wonder where it empties). In order for me to use the dryer, no other electricity can be used simultaneously save a few lights (so no vacuuming, no microwaving, no next load in the washer, no toasting, etc). In order for us to shower/bathe with hot water (it's winter here) we have to turn on the water heater (electricity) a couple hours ahead of time and it lasts about a shower and a half. I don't even try for hot water when washing dishes or clothes. So I guess there's no check on my doing the dishes ...aside from my visceral dislike for it.

So, most days this is how a bill becomes a law:

Half-O wakes me up and convinces me through compelling repetitive sound bites that we should leave the rooms with beds and go out into the kitchen and/or living room. On the way I flip the switch that turns on the water heater so either The Archaeologist or I can shower sometime in the morning/noon/nap time.

After breakfast and some computer time, Half-O plays while I do the dishes from the day before.

Per my constituent's request, I then participate in some game playing, puzzle making, book reading, coloring and/or dancing (these were campaign promises, after all).

Then I start a load of laundry. We head out for some fresh bread and diplomacy. I make us lunch. We eat. She naps (objection overruled).

Recess: There's no need for extra lights mid-day; we've eaten lunch, and dinner is hours away, so no need for the microwave or toaster or rice cooker. Water is hot, so the switch is flipped off. Laptops are charged, so switched to battery. And I can now load the wet clothes into the dryer.

By the time Half-O awakes and we reconvene, the laundry is done, and I can safely warm up the mandated post-nap milk in the microwave, and turn the water heater back on for her bath in the evening.

We're a sparkling clean republic.

The other day, however, we were a total Failed State.

I did the dishes in the morning, as is unfortunately my executive privilege. But by lunch time the schedule was askew. The missionaries were coming over for lunch so I decided to do more than melt cheese on bread and cut up a cucumber and an apple. Consequently, I didn't start a load of laundry.

The missionaries came late, so Half-O had already gone to sleep (her No-Nap Resolution vetoed), and she woke up not long after they left.

I needed to do a load of laundry that day and figured that since we also needed to go to the grocery store, I could quickly put the clothes in the washer, turn on the water heater while the clothes washed, and then turn it off (along with all other appliances), throw the clothes into the dryer and head off to the store while they dried in darkness.

Oh, the negligence; Oh, the natural law.

While Half-O and I played in the other room, I heard some extra loud water sloshing, and it dawned on me: "It's the dishes, stupid!"

I ran into the flooded kitchen and grabbed all the dirty special-missionary-lunch-dishes and dumped them in the dish rack (at least I had managed to put the clean ones away), and fished out the strainer and food pieces so the water would drain. My shirt was soaked, and my pants had begun the long process of sopping up the water on the floor.

I've been a registered democrat since the age of 18, but now I really felt like a jackass.

Though I am super grateful for the dryer since presently Lima is the land the sun plumb forgot - and, in that vein, I am grateful for the washer too - and to be clear, I'm grateful for the hot water heater so we don't have to use one of those contraptions that hooks onto the shower head and electrocutes you - but seriously, for someone who hates housework, is it a good strategy to put me in the house with all the amendments and addenda?

Blast that vast shoestring conspiracy!

Sorry - it's late, and apparently I can only recall political quotes from the 1990s.

Good night and good luck!