Welcome, Fukuoka!

Today's post was going to be another Conversations with EEF--he said something absolutely hilarious yesterday, but, due to my head exploding the other day, I completely forgot what it was.

So in lieu of Conversations, I would like to take this opportunity to welcome the visitor from Fukuoka, Japan who found my site when he or she came here searching for the answer to the question, "Why are babies crabby?" This is a very important question to the aspiring parent or caretaker, the answer to which can assure hours of peace and tranquility. It is an answer that I, as an experienced parent of--er--way too many children to count (especially as they are zooming through the house, climbing the draperies, chasing the cats, and frantically knocking furniture out of their paths), happen to know to the very marrow of my being. And today my dear readers, on this monumental occasion where some poor lost soul from across the globe came to my lowly site seeking answers, I will share the answer with you.

Babies are crabby because...

It is a conspiracy. That's right--a conspiracy! When Mom or Dad or whoever the primary caregiver happens to be, the child will choose the moment when that person has the lowest energy, spirit, and endurance to become insufferable. It amuses them to see Mom/Dad/Other dragging our asses, hacking up a lung, bags under our eyes hanging down to our toes fulfilling their slightest whim. The louder we sigh, and beg and plead for them to please be quiet, settle down, be happy, please be happy for the love of GOD!!! the more amused they are and, therefore, the crankier they become~like some kind of warped cyclic phenomenon. They know that we will do anything, anything, dear lord!, in those weakest moments for precious, precious quiet. And that is the absolute last thing they will let us have.

So, if you want my assvice, the next time your wee ones are crabby appletons, I say let them. Find yourself a good pair of earplugs, crank up the tunes, and let the little rascals scream it out. The storm will blow over in no time, and you will get your much-deserved rest.

Hah! And if you believe that, I have some prime ocean front real estate to sell ya...

***

I am sorry about this, all of you who come here in search of mature intellectual stimulation, but did you happen to notice that Fukuoka could be broken down to this:
Fuk
u
oka
?
I think we need a town on this side of a globe named Fuk-u-oka. Maybe our capital city? Replace Washington DC with Fuk-u-oka? It definitely has a ring to it, don't you think?