Spinning A Resolute Resolution or What's With The Dead Clown?

I was jarred out of a perfectly good hangover this morning when I tried to spoon a cold and bloody chainsaw that was lying between my wife and I. "What the hell is this doing in our bed?" I demanded. Wife bolted upright, grabbed one of my bloody hands and jammed it violently into my face. Then she held up both her clean ones. "If you wake the kids up I promise you a very very long 2009," she threatened with a glare. With that she lay back down and pulled the blankets over her head.

Not wanting any more of that I grabbed the chainsaw and stumbled downstairs to make some coffee. For some reason the front door was wide open. Since I didn't remember coming home, let alone shutting the door, I went outside to check things out. Besides, I had to hose the chainsaw down, I didn't want to scratch the enamel in the bathtub and catch even more hell. Then I almost broke my damn ankle tripping over what turned out to be a half pound bag of peyote. Well, that would explain the weird dreams last night. So there I am, standing half naked in my driveway carrying a blood splattered Husqvarna with my foot in a bag of drugs when I notice my neighbour staring in horror at a dead clown slumped over the steering wheel of a golf car that's parked behind my mini-van.

I don't know what to say. If I have any resolutions this year it's to smarten up. I've got kids now. I've got a wife and a house. If I can't at least dispose of the body before I get home, what kind of example am I passing on to my children? Who killed the clown? No freakin idea. Don't care. The point is, I don't want to be 'that dad.' Know what I mean? So this year, it's all about being a better father.

Happy New Year, everybody.

Thanks Grant for the inspiration for today's post and the lovely holiday sentiments that came with the eCard. And Jennifer, here's my Spin for the Cycle.

I don't know what's up with the prose lately, I'm sure it's just a phase.