Monday November 9th, 2015

The exercise:

Use the title of a movie, selected as randomly as you wish, as the inspiration for your writing today.

I finally got around to taking apart Max's crib today and stored it in the basement for future use with his younger sibling. It's been taking up space in our bedroom for far too long but I somehow managed to keep putting it off.

Max actually ended up helping me with it. Like, really helping. I got him to unscrew several bolts with an Allen key while I held on and made sure the sides didn't topple over. It was a bit of an odd feeling. Definitely nice though.

That kid loves his tools, that's for sure.

Anyway. Preparations for the arrival of baby number two continue to come along slowly. Which is okay, because we do have another five months still.

Mine:

How To Train Your Dragon

Very carefully.

What? You want more? Why?

You paid how much for this book?

Okay, okay. Though you should know up front that there is no chance whatsoever that you're going to get your money's worth from what follows. But, considering the subject matter, I'm also going to assume that you don't care too much about that.

All right, all right. Let's get to it, shall we?

First of all, you should always - and I do mean always - have other food sources within arm's reach. Dragons get hungry. Often. And when the urge to eat strikes, they strike quickly. So if your dragon starts looking at you with that special gleam in his or her eyes... toss them some meat.

Second of all, what the hell are you thinking? Trying to train a bloody dragon? Do you want to die?

Sorry. But it had to be said. Now let us move on.

Third of all... all training should take place far from your home. In fact, the dragon should never see where you live. Trust me. If anything goes wrong during training - but not so wrong that you don't survive - you will not want that dragon knowing where you live.

Though I suppose he or she wouldn't take all that long to find it anyway. Dragons are mighty fine hunters after all...

2 Comments:

Greg said...

I suspect with only five months to go I'd have left the crib up myself, but it sounds like you had a good time taking it apart and that you've found yourself a little handyman helper as well. You should encourage him with the tools; surgeons earn good money :)
Hah, I think your book takes exactly the right tone for its subject matter, though it's not the most reassuring guide in the world. Still, I very much like its irreverent tone and it's distinct fear of its subject matter. I think I'd read more of this, given the chance.

Pan
"What's this film about then?" asked Agnes as she and Betty settled themselves into their seats. Their ticketed seats were several rows further back and cheaper, but the manager had given up trying to get them to move and had put a sign near them reading 'Danger: Chemical Waste'. The cinema was only half-full, so the seats were thankfully not sold, and the sign was keeping other patrons away and from learning how to get a free upgrade.
"Pans," said Betty, confidently. "It's in the name."
"Well," said Agnes, with all the signs of launching into a long, meandering conversation, "Loretta told me that it was about Peter Pan. Apparently he kidnaps children and sells them to Michael Jackson."
"It's about pans," said Betty. "It's a documentary. It's sponsored by Le Creuset. Hang on, why would Peter Pan sell children to Michael Jackson?"
"I didn't understand that bit either," said Agnes, in the tones of someone who's never wrong, "but Loretta said they spend a lot of time in Neverland, which is definitely his mansion."
"Was. He's dead now."
"Do you think he sells the children to him before or after he's dead?"
Betty thought about this while she tried a mouthful of popcorn. It squeaked between her dentures. "Could be after," she said. "Maybe he's harvesting their souls for something. This popcorn tastes like cardboard, did I pay for this?"
"I think we liberated from that group of children that were peeing in the foyer," said Agnes.
"You shouldn't have told them to do that, you know."
"Kept the manager busy for ten minutes and got us these seats! You know how militant he's gotten ever since he got those pimentos."
There was a slight pause while Betty worked that out. "Epaulettes," she said finally.
"Bless you."
The lights dimmed, and the two women got comfortable, with no more noise than an drunken elephant finding a spot to sleep might.
The pan, a modern convenience unavailable in the medieval kitchen said the voice-over.
"Told you so!" said Betty.

Marc said...

Greg - it's a larger crib, one that Max didn't start using until... just after he turned one? I think? Anyway, we're at least a year and a half from using it.

Honestly? There's no discouraging him with his tools. Not that I'd want to. Seriously though, I've lost track of how many toy tools he has.

Haha, that's an impressive bit of writing given the rather potentially bland title you had to work with. And of course you know that I always enjoy a visit from Betty and Agnes :D