New Year, Same Me

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! Guess what! No one cares! That's a lie. Everyone cares! Everyone is out and about, talking about how "this is their year"! Well guess what? This is! And guess what? With a New Year, you get a New Me!

HA! Fuck that. It may be a new year, but it is still the same me. I am still going to be that asshole that calls it likes I sees it. I'm still that asshole that will rip on Russia for being a depressing-ass country and people. I am still that asshole that will tell the truth about parenthood - both the good, and the bad. I am still that asshole that will gladly tell someone to kindly go fuck themselves, if they deserve it. New year, same asshole.

And in that light, it may be fitting that my 2018 started painfully. Why? Because our fucking cat woke me up by clawing my goddamn arm. On January 1st, our son woke up at 5AM. I give him some milk, and put him to bed. No worries, right? As I am leaving the kid's room, however, I hear the cat scratching the floor at the base of the stairs. I know he has puked, and is trying to cover it up with my shoe, but decide to deal with it after I get some more sleep. Then, because he just emptied his stomach, the cat decides to purr in my ear. Why? Because he hopes I will wake up and feed him. When I don't, the cat decides to walk across me and start pawing at my leg. In walking across, however, the cat had his "fuck-you" claws out. As his front paw lost footing on my arm, that same fuck-you claw ended up scratching me. Did you know that you can feel and almost hear when flesh is getting cut? I didn't realize it, until I was in a silent bedroom and getting cut by a goddamn cat.

Of course, the kiddo woke up about 30 minutes later. I get up to take care of the kid, and discover that he, too, has a fuck-you finger nail. I discovered this as he dug it in, under my shoulder blade, and used it to anchor himself into be chest. He then retracted the nail, and stuck it into the nerve that is under the shoulder, near my neck. I took the kid downstairs to get my coffee, fed the cat, and then settled into to playing with the kid in his room. Shortly thereafter, the cat chose to eat his food, and then purge himself (again) at the top of the stairs. Evidently he was protesting the delay in feeding.

So my 2018 started off with the cat drawing first-blood, and my son drawing second-blood. My wife did not draw blood, but rather laughed at my misery. And this leads me to the next part, which is that my son is a goddamn savage. Yesterday, he decided to take interest in my yarmulke. In doing so, he began to strategically claw my eye, ear, mouth (fish-hook), and nose, to get the leverage to grab the kippah. And when I took it off, my son grabbed my beard, hoisted himself up to grab my hair, and then yanked himself higher to see the top of my head.

Little known fact, that is almost the exact same combination that I use in sparring. Hit the throat, hook a cheek, hit an ear, gouge and eye, yank some hair, and kick the nose. The only difference is that my son is small enough to do it all in one fluid motion. He does not do this with my wife, though. Evidently that whole, "I carried you in the womb for 10 months" thing is enough for him to respect her personal space. I mean, I get it, but I still call bullshit.

Moral of the Story: I got fucked up for 2018. I bled, and have black eyes, and I didn't even get the luxury of defending myself. That's okay though. Here is to a glorious year, and the laughs that will ensue!