I got home very late; the plane landed on schedule at 2 15, and I was seated right near the front of the plane, but there was an interminable wait for baggage and then, getting home at 3:30, I vacillated between going to sleep and staying up until 4:15, when I finally saw sense and went to sleep on the sofa.
My wife went for Lasik today, which we both felt some trepidation about, so I had taken the day off to look after her. After dropping the kids off at school, I was planning on picking her up from the clinic but she’d been done in less than an hour and gone to get coffee at our local cafe. So instead I got to walk her home and then sit with her for four hours while she had to use eyedrops every 15 minutes.
Right after the operation she felt fine, and then it got uncomfortable after maybe an hour, and then after four hours she felt fine again. In that period I read her the first four chapters of Prospero Burns, which we both realised:
- was terribly insensitive, once you see that almost every page has a reference to sight, or imagery around eyes, or both
- was not the book about Space Marines she thought I wanted her to read. She’d been reading the far inferior Fallen Angels, thinking I’d recommended it to her and wondering why I kept asking about the archaeologists and the Spaaaace Vikings.
It turns out she really liked Prospero Burns, and had also thought Fallen Angels was dire. Lucky we found out, because she would have had to read through four other novels to get to Prospero Burns in the omnibus edition I’ve purchased…
In the afternoon I slept a little, then played Blood Bowl (I won one match today, then lost two this evening – one quite ridiculous match where every dice went my way and I smashed his team to pieces (but failed to get the ball and score) and another match, with my goblins, where the wheels fell off and I had eight players injured. But all of these were (kind of) learning experiences.
The kids were a bit odd this evening. Or just really worn out. We had ordered in pizza as it was going to be an easy meal, but it arrived half an hour late, and both girls were terribly overtired and refusing to eat, which only made them more emotional. La Serpiente refused her pizza, didn’t eat her peanut butter sandwich until cajoled to do so, and then after having three things for dessert, wailed and screamed about how she needed to have a little dessertee (she adds “ee” to the end of most words at the moment), and I had to use the best of my patience to not get in a shouting match with her.
Destroyer just wept and screamed for no reason I can remember, but I had recently read some good advice: when dealing with somebody in the throes of emotional distress, to snap them out of it you can try asking them a simple factual question (“what’s your ephone number?”, for example) and this can help to divert them. So it was with Destroyer. I asked her how old she was, and then she stopped weeping and ate her pizza.
Both girls were very sad and weepy at bedtime, arguing about who would cuddle me, but that also meant they fell asleep like rocks, giving me ample opportunity to play my second and third games of Blood Bowl this evening. And now, with my wife asleep already, it’s time for me to turn in…