Perspective

*I know, I know, it's a story, but it's really short and I'm not posting again until at least Monday, so if you have the time this weekend give it a read and let me know what you think. It's even kind of fitting for this weekend. Kinda. Like big picture-wise.

He had walked a short distance from the camp for a small measure of peace, only a few dozen paces from the nearest tents but far enough that the incessant talk was more murmur than anything else. The constant noise, well, that was camp life. Armies were noisy, but it was the talk that drove him to distraction. The endless talk of nothing. Bragging, tales, gossip and worst of all speculation. He did not like battle, but at least it would put an end to all the guessing and expert opinion. It wouldn't be as bad if he were amongst the officers, they weren't all fools. But that was not his fate. He had been cursed a giant. He stood at least two heads above even the tallest of his fellow soldiers and for that he was eternally cast the army's monster. It did not matter that he was more intelligent than any officer commanding him and (he doubted even his king could match wits with him) it did not matter that he had his letters, all that mattered was his size. He'd long ago given up searching for intelligent conversation among his "brothers," or conversation at all. Most treated him like a fool or a dangerous beast so that is what he gave them. Grunts and bestial screams made them happy so that us what they received.

The two hills they had set up camp between had been covered in beautiful purple flowers. Most had now been crushed but he had found an unmolested patch just outside the sentry lines and that was where he had spent the morning. Below him the sound of his squire returning to their tent interrupted his meditation. The boy had completed his errands and now bleated about the camp like a lost sheep. He did not bother answering. Someone would point him out in good time. Besides, it was too damned hot. The less movement the better.

As predicted, the boy found him soon enough. "Sir!" the squire panted as he ran up the hill, "I found a local who knew the name of these flowers."
"And?"
"Lupine, sir"
"Lupine," he repeated, committing it to memory. He had removed some seed pods earlier and placed them in a small leather bag he now handed to the squire. Hopefully he would get the chance to plant them once the war was over. He had been admiring the flowers throughout their current campaign, but this had been the first time they had come close enough for him to collect a specimen.

"There's a stir at the front, sir. Some say they've finally found someone to challenge you,"the boy reported cheerfully. Finally, he thought. Maybe we can finally end this damn war. He did not understand why their foe continued in this pointless action. They had been beaten twice now and had their precious treasure taken, but on they fought. If they would just give up he could finally be free. His term of service was done with the completion of this campaign. Ten years was enough. He had made enough to provide a good home for the bride his family had chosen for him. A home and a comfortable life once he found work. He had long ago decided to follow his family and work the sea. No fools to suffer upon the waves, the fish did not speak. Afternoons alone untangling nets in the solitude of his own thoughts? He could think of little sweeter. A quiet life with a good woman and a house full of children, all he needed was for this fool's errand to run its course.

Sure enough, word eventually came back that the Israelites had chosen a warrior. He returned to his tent and enjoyed some wine and a quick bite while his squire prepared his armour. He was always chosen for single combat, his enormous size guaranteed it. He took no joy from it though, it was a necessary evil. In fact, when he first joined up he had been terrible. If it weren't for the terror he brought forth in his adversaries he should be long dead. As it was, he had plenty of opportunities to practice over the seasons. If he should never spill another man's blood he would be blessed.

First though, the show. After donning his leather and plate and choosing his favoured spear he made toward the front lines. They parted before him, chanting his name and screaming for blood. "Goliath! Goliath!" If they only knew how much he despised them in these moments. They were little more than animals, but he gave them what they wanted. He bellowed like an angry oxen and shook his mighty spear for all to see and they lapped it up. He felt the fool for it, but it garnered him extra food every night and a tent to himself, not that any save his squire would sleep near him. All the better, he thought.

When the final waves of screaming faces parted and he stood alone with his commanders he began to worry. Around him his fellow soldiers and officers scoffed at his opponent, laughing and slapping one another on the back in their mirth and merriment. Across the clearing between the two armies stood the Israelites and their champion. To say the man was small compared to him was a gross exaggeration. I could probably eat his body weight in one sitting, he thought. But while his Philistines derided the small man, Goliath knew the Israelites had chosen him for a reason. There were many warriors behind the man who would have made a better match, but instead they chose this little man to decide their nations fate in single combat. The soldier played the part of being frightened, but Goliath decided that was exactly what he was doing, playing a part. The fear in the man's face did not extend to his eyes. Those eyes were busy taking his opponents measure, were in fact, taking the winds measure as well as he noticed the man's attention flit from himself to the banners that waved above the Philistine lines. Sure enough, as the diminutive Israelite turned Goliath caught a glimpse of a sling hanging at the man's hip. Outwardly, the Philistine played his own part, but inside he was worried. While his reach with a spear was formidable, all his opponent needed to do was keep beyond it and pelt him with those damned stones. His own men might think the rocks would bounce from him, but he suffered no such delusions. A skilled man with a sling was every bit as deadly as he was with his giant size and strength.

He sighed. His die was cast. He turned his back on the little man and lifted his spear and shield high. They expected a show and a show they would receive. He gave them his best roar and then turned once more to face his enemy. He screamed all his best insults and stepped forward into the clearing. Why couldn't they have just given up?

*I wrote this on my iPod while at my sister's the last time we were visiting. The main reason it is so short.

Baltimore, Beer and...?... Boobies? (I Got Nothin)

I'm slummin' over at Irish Gumbo's today because he just got out of the joint and he promised beer and strippers. I don't care what the press said, he was framed.

Random Tuesday: Random Tuesday

The other day one of the boys found a lollipop that one of them had brought home from a birthday and dad obviously didn't hide very well. Being the brilliant father that I am I decide to break it into pieces so both boys could share. I grab a hammer, put it on the floor, still in its wrapper, and whack it. Nothing happened. Again. Nothing happens. Third times a charm, I hit that SOB but good and it explodes. Everywhere.

It's Tuesday!



I'm in the middle of stripping wallpaper from my bedroom. One night I'm brushing my teeth and looking at the walls and all the work that still needs doing and ask Supreme Leader if we can just mirror the entire room. Walls, floors and ceiling. As usual she's pretending I'm not even there, although I know it's because she's trying to resist my machismo by acting like she's reading a book. It occurs to me that a mirrored floor could be dangerous so I tell her that we would probably have to cover the mirrors with plexiglass. This leads to the brilliant idea of replacing the mirrored room with twin panes of plexiglass and then running water between them. And maybe even fish! Can you imagine?! It'd be like sleeping underwater!

Me: Do you want to sit or stand?
Liam: Sit, because sometimes my pee pee doesn't listen to me.


Etsy

Today I'm walking to pick up Connor from kindergarten and notice a plane flying high over head. Then I notice a strange black line beneath it and take off my sunglasses to clean them. They were clean. I looked up without my glasses and realized it was the shadow of the jet's contrail on some thin cirrus cloud beneath it. No, there's no point, it just looked cool.

Check this out. It's called 1001 Rules For My Unborn Son and it's great.

Beyoncé came on the radio this afternoon while I was in the kitchen and Liam wanted to know why that lady was singing about Halo. Not that he's ever seen the game, of course. Ok, he's seen the game, once or twice. Ah hell, he's seen it a lot, but who else is going to teach him how to fight off xenophobic aliens bent on the eradication of humanity? The school system? They're not even ready for the zombie plague. Earthquakes? Whatever.



Go to Keely's, grab a button, join the fun!

Height Matters

Potty training my youngest took a big leap forward a few weeks ago when he started peeing standing up. This had less to do with parenting skills or his own abilities than the fact that his older brother does it. The last couple of days though he's been asking to use his toilet seat again. This morning when he told me he had to go and asked for his seat I made him stand since he's made it this far and I don't want him backsliding. As I was standing above him and watching what he was doing I noticed that he stands with his thighs touching the bowl.

Me: Do want to sit because your legs touch the bowl?
Liam: Yes.
*light bulb*
Me: Honey, does your pee pee (we haven't really talked about testicles yet) touch the bowl when you pee?
Liam: Yes.

I am so sorry, little man.

Thirsty?

Sometimes I find cool stuff out there and want to share but just throwing a fruit shaped drink box into the middle of a post is a little out there, even for me.

I am Mr. Roarke, your host. Welcome to Fantasy Island.

Oh ya, I went there. Come on, I'm a daddy blogger giving away "adult toys," we need to keep this light. So today is the day, I announce the Eden Fantasys gift code winner. We had 70 comments total but only 68 entrants. Petra (because she's 10 kinds of cool) gave up her entry to the person commenting after her and my mom decided to skip this one. (Thank you so much)


Can we go back to Ricardo Montalbán for a second? Wrath of Khan and Corinthian leather aside, you know this guy scored back in the day.


What? Oh, the winner, right. I decided that letting Connor and Liam pull names out of a hat might be putting myself in a morally grey area, so I left it to Random.org. The lucky winner of the $50 gift code was Jen at Sprite's Keeper. Congrats, Jen! Lets avoid any awkwardness and just leave it at that. A big thanks to everybody who entered, twittered and even facebooked. I wish I could give you all sex toys, but Drew only gave me one and if he'd given me enough for all of you he'd probably get fired. Not to mention that our blogging relationship might change as well. Sure you'd tell me you'd be back but then things would get awkward and you'd be all, 'oh, I've been so busy I haven't had time to read anybody's blog,' or, 'damn, something must be wrong with my reader, I didn't know you'd posted!' Fine, be that way now that you have a constant source of sexual gratification, see if I care! Not like I have feelings or anything. I hope your orgasms suck!

See. It's best that there was only one winner. Anyway, thanks again for playing. Go over to Eden Fantasy if you have the time or you're not at work. They have a nice site. Congratulations Jen.

Winners & Weiners (kinda)

This is the post where I announce the winner of the contest where I paint anything you want on my son's wall (he'll thank me for that one day), only I've had it open for about a half an hour now... ok, maybe like an hour and a half and I can't think of anything to write so how about I just paste in the comment I just left at The Monster Apathy.

I'm not going to admit I use Axe because that would be totally embarrassing but I do wear "Hatchet" because their deodorant works for me and I have a hella hard time finding deodorants that work and don't leave me smelling like a wet goat and I never wear anti-perspirant because it leaves my armpits feeling all funny and because one of it's ingredients is aluminum and that shit just can't be good for you and also, like, if I wasn't supposed to sweat I wouldn't have sweat glands, would I?

Ok, now I'm feeling it. The envelope please?



Jess at This Life Is Mine, it's all yours. Funny, she just gave me an award yesterday so this may seem fixed, but it wasn't. Are you suggesting my little angel rigged the vote? Are you? Rot in hell, baby hater.



Jess, if you want a picture I can email it to you. It's really... well, it's really terrible. But it's all yours.

Friday I announce the Eden Fantasy winner so if you haven't entered yet, do it! Then you can do... yourself, I guess. Depends on what you buy. Why did I decide to wait a week?