Showing posts with label communication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label communication. Show all posts
Friday, January 13, 2023
Suggested Updates to the Chicago MLA Style
Friday, August 24, 2018
Source Material
The Queen has been out on her annual fall trek through the thrift stores hunting clothing and other apparel for our upcoming trip (hopefully Haweewee if it doesn't get blown off the map by the hurricane currently spinning up in the Pacific). So, she sends me a text at the office with the a photo of the following t-shirt:
She allowed as how it was the perfect shirt for me...since I typically refuse to accept much of anything without critically assessing the facts and source material.
I can't help it. I come by my flaw honestly as I was trained that way by a wise, old, Jesuit priest turned history professor in my history methodology class. The man had to be in his 70s at least at the time, and that was...more than a few years ago. Let's just say, if that man is still creeping around this old mud ball, I'm shooting him in the head on general principle. You can't be too careful to prevent a zombie outbreak.
God will sort it out.
Anyspeculation, there was a point to this post. I'm sure of it.
Oh yes...critical assessment of facts and source material.
That old Jesuit had all us wannabe history majors do a project (a research paper really) the main point of which was an annotated bibliography. He didn't really care what the subject of the paper was as long as the bibliography was annotated with a critical assessment of the source material including whether it was primary, secondary, tertiary, etc. He also wanted us to take it a step further and assess whether the source material exhibited any bias (this came back to bite me in the butt with my African history professor, but that's a story for another time).
Fast forward mumble, mumble years, and that is one the lessons that has stuck with me to this day. Unfortunately, I think this lesson has been lost on an entire generation (or more) of people.
Case on point. The other night, I come home from work to find two, brand new, freshly purchased boxes of Cheerios (M&M's preferred breakfast cereal) on a pile of stuff being gathered for donation. I queried The Queen as to the reason suspecting something was afoot.
The Queen informed me that my father-in-law, Opa, had told her that he had read an article somewhere that claimed Cheerios contained dangerous levels of a particular pesticide residue. Opa is one of those people for whom a little information is a dangerous thing (no, seriously, he's never met an internet scare of conspiracy theory that he hasn't latched onto). He really should not be let loose with an internet connection without a minder.
This revelation, as one would expect, caused my eyebrows to raise and set off my facial tics just a touch.
I set about investigating the claim du juor. Opa was questioned regarding the source of the Cheerios Challenge. After much fumbling about the dustier corners of his memory, we were able to tease out the source of the pesticide proposition. It was a news article from the Detroit Free Press linked to from the Natural News website referring to a study done by a group called Environmental Working Group.
Now we were getting somewhere. I start doing my due diligence on EWG. EWG claims to be a non-profit, non-partisan organization dedicated to protecting human health and the environment. A laudable goal to be sure. Funding is primarily from grants and individuals. Notable names among the donor list is the Walton Family Foundation (think Sam Walton of Wal-Mart fame) and The Turner Foundation (Ted Turner - CNN Founder). They also have corporate partnerships with many of the bigger names in organic foods.
Nothing about this is particularly alarming. It's not like George Soros or the Koch Brothers are involved. Having said that, did I mention EWG has a lobbying arm? Silly me. That must have slipped my mind. And regarding what issues do they lobby? Environmental, agricultural, food, toxic chemicals, etc.
So, they are environmental advocates. Again, nothing particularly wrong with that, but it could color their findings on certain topics or influence their reporting of facts. We'll get back to that in a minute.
I tracked down the article EWG posted about glysophate levels in foods. Glysophate, for the uninitiated, is theevil active ingredient in RoundUp (created by the nefarious mega corporation Monsanto...yes, I'm being a tad tongue in cheek). It seems that EWG commissioned a laboratory study of glysophate levels in common breakfast cereals. The article published by EWG reporting the results of the lab study started with a link to a recent California jury verdict in which Monsanto was ordered to pay $289 million to a plaintiff dying of cancer allegedly caused by exposure to glysophate. They then get into a discussion of the levels of glysophate in food allowed by the California Office of Environmental Health Hazard Assessment (1.1 milligrams per day for a 154 pound average person), the EPA (not specifically noted by referenced to be 60 times higher than the CA state allowable level) and the EWG's calculated "one in a million" cancer risk of 0.01 milligrams per day.
The original article I read did not "show their work" on the math, but it seems to have been corrected as they now report that a person would have to eat a 60 gram serving of food exceeding 160 parts per billion glysophate concentration to reach their calculated risk level of 0.01 millgrams per day (which, by the way, is 110 times lower than the level the state of California says is too much which in turn is 60 times lower than what the EPA says is too much). So, just to put a bow on the math, EWG is saying that the safe level of glysophate in foods SHOULD be 6600 times lower than the level currently allowed by the EPA. They don't make a convincing case for why the level should be 6600 times lower than the EPA or 110 times lower than the state of California. Instead, they seem content to make the argument that it is a chemical linked to cancer and is therefore bad in any quantity.
For the record, I'm not volunteering to drink or otherwise consume 1.056 million parts per billion (that's 160 parts per billion times 6600) concentrations of glysophate in my daily Cheerios; and, truthfully, EWG may not be wrong in their conclusion. I just take issue with the manner in which they are presenting their information.
Back to the report on the study results. First off, the article currently on their website has been drastically revised from the version I read a few days ago, and I really wish I had a screen capture or PDF copy of the original to compare and contrast. The current version shows that EWG took samples of 45 conventional breakfast cereals and 16 organic breakfast cereals and tested them for glysophate concentration. They then report the test results in concentration parts per billion for each sample. All fine and dandy so far. Where things really went off the rails in the original article was that samples results were grouped according to which ones had unsafe levels (color coded in red...for contrast I'm sure). The thing that really bugged me in the original was that they did not make it clear that the table of results categorized each product according to EWG's much lower concentration level.
To clarify further, the report starts out talking about concentration levels in milligrams per weight before shifting to parts per billion in the lab results table. The revised article does now provide a brief conversion from milligrams per serving to parts per billions, but the original article did not.
Even in the revised article, if someone is not reading carefully, they might miss that critical distinction. The skeptic in me suspects that was EWG's intent in order to advocate for a new, lower standard for safe concentration levels.
Another, in my opinion, glaring omission from EWG's article is the results of other scientific testing on glysophate, a discussion of the MSDS sheet on the chemical, etc. For instance, it took me literally seconds to find out that the WHO and UN studies on glysophate determined that mammal animal models suggest that concentrations as high as 2000 milligrams per kilogram of body weight was not associated with genotoxic effects. There's more detail out there than I'm willing to transcribe or cut and paste here. Bottom line is that you would probably have to ingest enough to drown yourself before you'd be at a legitimate risk of getting cancer, and you'd probably puke it up before you got close to those dosage levels.
After I pointed out these little details, the Cheerios mysteriously reappeared in the pantry.
Now, this is just one little drop of questionable information in a practical galactic ocean of information floating around the internet. Why should you care? Well, the president attacks CNN almost daily accusing them of being fake news. Fox News claims to be fair & balanced. Alex Jones gets banned from social media for making wild claims reported as news. For every EWG, there is a company or interest group lobbying for the opposite position. And let's not forget all those companies out there trying to make a buck selling snake oil and legitimate products.
Everyone, it seems, is publishing information at the speed of light. The incredible quantity of information being published everyday makes it impossible to fact check it all. That is why it is so incredibly important to learn to critically assess source material.
So, the next time you hear someone ranting about the latest scandal, conspiracy theory, social justice melt down...etc. Take a step back and dig into the source material with a critical eye. I'd bet that, more often than not, you'll find discrepancies in the reporting that will be most illuminating.
She allowed as how it was the perfect shirt for me...since I typically refuse to accept much of anything without critically assessing the facts and source material.
I can't help it. I come by my flaw honestly as I was trained that way by a wise, old, Jesuit priest turned history professor in my history methodology class. The man had to be in his 70s at least at the time, and that was...more than a few years ago. Let's just say, if that man is still creeping around this old mud ball, I'm shooting him in the head on general principle. You can't be too careful to prevent a zombie outbreak.
God will sort it out.
Anyspeculation, there was a point to this post. I'm sure of it.
Oh yes...critical assessment of facts and source material.
That old Jesuit had all us wannabe history majors do a project (a research paper really) the main point of which was an annotated bibliography. He didn't really care what the subject of the paper was as long as the bibliography was annotated with a critical assessment of the source material including whether it was primary, secondary, tertiary, etc. He also wanted us to take it a step further and assess whether the source material exhibited any bias (this came back to bite me in the butt with my African history professor, but that's a story for another time).
Fast forward mumble, mumble years, and that is one the lessons that has stuck with me to this day. Unfortunately, I think this lesson has been lost on an entire generation (or more) of people.
Case on point. The other night, I come home from work to find two, brand new, freshly purchased boxes of Cheerios (M&M's preferred breakfast cereal) on a pile of stuff being gathered for donation. I queried The Queen as to the reason suspecting something was afoot.
The Queen informed me that my father-in-law, Opa, had told her that he had read an article somewhere that claimed Cheerios contained dangerous levels of a particular pesticide residue. Opa is one of those people for whom a little information is a dangerous thing (no, seriously, he's never met an internet scare of conspiracy theory that he hasn't latched onto). He really should not be let loose with an internet connection without a minder.
This revelation, as one would expect, caused my eyebrows to raise and set off my facial tics just a touch.
I set about investigating the claim du juor. Opa was questioned regarding the source of the Cheerios Challenge. After much fumbling about the dustier corners of his memory, we were able to tease out the source of the pesticide proposition. It was a news article from the Detroit Free Press linked to from the Natural News website referring to a study done by a group called Environmental Working Group.
Now we were getting somewhere. I start doing my due diligence on EWG. EWG claims to be a non-profit, non-partisan organization dedicated to protecting human health and the environment. A laudable goal to be sure. Funding is primarily from grants and individuals. Notable names among the donor list is the Walton Family Foundation (think Sam Walton of Wal-Mart fame) and The Turner Foundation (Ted Turner - CNN Founder). They also have corporate partnerships with many of the bigger names in organic foods.
Nothing about this is particularly alarming. It's not like George Soros or the Koch Brothers are involved. Having said that, did I mention EWG has a lobbying arm? Silly me. That must have slipped my mind. And regarding what issues do they lobby? Environmental, agricultural, food, toxic chemicals, etc.
So, they are environmental advocates. Again, nothing particularly wrong with that, but it could color their findings on certain topics or influence their reporting of facts. We'll get back to that in a minute.
I tracked down the article EWG posted about glysophate levels in foods. Glysophate, for the uninitiated, is the
The original article I read did not "show their work" on the math, but it seems to have been corrected as they now report that a person would have to eat a 60 gram serving of food exceeding 160 parts per billion glysophate concentration to reach their calculated risk level of 0.01 millgrams per day (which, by the way, is 110 times lower than the level the state of California says is too much which in turn is 60 times lower than what the EPA says is too much). So, just to put a bow on the math, EWG is saying that the safe level of glysophate in foods SHOULD be 6600 times lower than the level currently allowed by the EPA. They don't make a convincing case for why the level should be 6600 times lower than the EPA or 110 times lower than the state of California. Instead, they seem content to make the argument that it is a chemical linked to cancer and is therefore bad in any quantity.
For the record, I'm not volunteering to drink or otherwise consume 1.056 million parts per billion (that's 160 parts per billion times 6600) concentrations of glysophate in my daily Cheerios; and, truthfully, EWG may not be wrong in their conclusion. I just take issue with the manner in which they are presenting their information.
Back to the report on the study results. First off, the article currently on their website has been drastically revised from the version I read a few days ago, and I really wish I had a screen capture or PDF copy of the original to compare and contrast. The current version shows that EWG took samples of 45 conventional breakfast cereals and 16 organic breakfast cereals and tested them for glysophate concentration. They then report the test results in concentration parts per billion for each sample. All fine and dandy so far. Where things really went off the rails in the original article was that samples results were grouped according to which ones had unsafe levels (color coded in red...for contrast I'm sure). The thing that really bugged me in the original was that they did not make it clear that the table of results categorized each product according to EWG's much lower concentration level.
To clarify further, the report starts out talking about concentration levels in milligrams per weight before shifting to parts per billion in the lab results table. The revised article does now provide a brief conversion from milligrams per serving to parts per billions, but the original article did not.
Even in the revised article, if someone is not reading carefully, they might miss that critical distinction. The skeptic in me suspects that was EWG's intent in order to advocate for a new, lower standard for safe concentration levels.
Another, in my opinion, glaring omission from EWG's article is the results of other scientific testing on glysophate, a discussion of the MSDS sheet on the chemical, etc. For instance, it took me literally seconds to find out that the WHO and UN studies on glysophate determined that mammal animal models suggest that concentrations as high as 2000 milligrams per kilogram of body weight was not associated with genotoxic effects. There's more detail out there than I'm willing to transcribe or cut and paste here. Bottom line is that you would probably have to ingest enough to drown yourself before you'd be at a legitimate risk of getting cancer, and you'd probably puke it up before you got close to those dosage levels.
After I pointed out these little details, the Cheerios mysteriously reappeared in the pantry.
Now, this is just one little drop of questionable information in a practical galactic ocean of information floating around the internet. Why should you care? Well, the president attacks CNN almost daily accusing them of being fake news. Fox News claims to be fair & balanced. Alex Jones gets banned from social media for making wild claims reported as news. For every EWG, there is a company or interest group lobbying for the opposite position. And let's not forget all those companies out there trying to make a buck selling snake oil and legitimate products.
Everyone, it seems, is publishing information at the speed of light. The incredible quantity of information being published everyday makes it impossible to fact check it all. That is why it is so incredibly important to learn to critically assess source material.
So, the next time you hear someone ranting about the latest scandal, conspiracy theory, social justice melt down...etc. Take a step back and dig into the source material with a critical eye. I'd bet that, more often than not, you'll find discrepancies in the reporting that will be most illuminating.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
"Thingie" and Google Fu
Way back around post number two, I wrote about my gift with the female language, “Thingie”. It was that post that won me my first blogger writing award and secured the following and friendship of some of my long time blogger friends such as GunDiva. Well, my lovely wife (All hail The Queen! Long live The Queen!), over the course of our almost 10 years of marriage has taken “Thingie” to a whole new level. Please allow me to present the evidence.
First, The Queen has a horrible memory for movies and actors. Here is a fairly typical example:
The Setting - Imagine a husband busy at some task of daily living minding his own business when, from out of left field, this curve ball makes a u-turn and falls in his lap…
The Queen: Do you remember who that person was who was in the one a while back?
Me: Which person in one what when?
The Queen: I don’t remember.
Me: I need a hint here. Male/female? Animal, vegetable, mineral? Movie, TV, commercial? Anything? Bueller?
The Queen: She’s the one who plays a stupid woman all the time…
And so it goes until finally, I say “Aha! You mean Dustin Hoffman in ‘Tootsie’”
Nine times out of ten, I can guess the right answer in under twenty questions and five minutes. It is a stimulating exercise if you’ve never tried it.
But, my Queen is not content with that. She has now stepped up her game from Expert Thingie speaker to Grand Master Thingie Speaker. To wit, I submit the following example:
The Setting – settling into bed at midnight after a long day and needing to get up early the next day to get on the road.
The Queen: I need your help finding a song I heard on the radio a couple of weeks ago.
Me: Okay. Who’s it by?
The Queen: I don’t know.
Me: How does it go?
The Queen: I don’t remember. It was slow, with a lot of bass. I think it was sung by a black guy.”
Me: Lenny Kravitz?
The Queen: No.
Me: Can you give me anything else to work with?
The Queen: I took a picture.
[The Queen shows me a very blurry photo of our car stereo display which shows the radio station ID and, ironically, Puddle of Mudd – Blurry. Also, there is a word at the top that is either “ination” or “iration” or something like that.]
I pull up Puddle of Mudd – Blurry on iTunes for a sample.
The Queen: That’s not it.
Me: Are you sure? That’s what the radio is showing.
The Queen: I’m sure that’s not it.
Me: Okay. Let me see what else I can do.
At this point, I am forced to unleash my Google Fu. The first thing I come up with is the radio station’s play list. They only keep the list for the current day and the previous day up on their website, but I give it a look any way.
A song jumps off the list as being in heavy rotation, and I pull it up on iTunes for another sample.
The Queen: That’s it. What’s the name?
Me: Sail by Awolnation.
The Queen: How did you find that?
As near as I can tell, The Queen took her photo just as the station was moving to the next song. The radio moves the last song to a ticker tape at the top under the station ID, and she caught it just as Awolnation was marching across the screen. What I mistook for “ination” was “lnation” and that was what caught my eye on the play list. Sail is on heavy rotation (five to six times a day), and is the only band with “nation” in its name.
Score major bonus points for Daddy Hawk and his Google Fu.
First, The Queen has a horrible memory for movies and actors. Here is a fairly typical example:
The Setting - Imagine a husband busy at some task of daily living minding his own business when, from out of left field, this curve ball makes a u-turn and falls in his lap…
The Queen: Do you remember who that person was who was in the one a while back?
Me: Which person in one what when?
The Queen: I don’t remember.
Me: I need a hint here. Male/female? Animal, vegetable, mineral? Movie, TV, commercial? Anything? Bueller?
The Queen: She’s the one who plays a stupid woman all the time…
And so it goes until finally, I say “Aha! You mean Dustin Hoffman in ‘Tootsie’”
Nine times out of ten, I can guess the right answer in under twenty questions and five minutes. It is a stimulating exercise if you’ve never tried it.
But, my Queen is not content with that. She has now stepped up her game from Expert Thingie speaker to Grand Master Thingie Speaker. To wit, I submit the following example:
The Setting – settling into bed at midnight after a long day and needing to get up early the next day to get on the road.
The Queen: I need your help finding a song I heard on the radio a couple of weeks ago.
Me: Okay. Who’s it by?
The Queen: I don’t know.
Me: How does it go?
The Queen: I don’t remember. It was slow, with a lot of bass. I think it was sung by a black guy.”
Me: Lenny Kravitz?
The Queen: No.
Me: Can you give me anything else to work with?
The Queen: I took a picture.
[The Queen shows me a very blurry photo of our car stereo display which shows the radio station ID and, ironically, Puddle of Mudd – Blurry. Also, there is a word at the top that is either “ination” or “iration” or something like that.]
I pull up Puddle of Mudd – Blurry on iTunes for a sample.
The Queen: That’s not it.
Me: Are you sure? That’s what the radio is showing.
The Queen: I’m sure that’s not it.
Me: Okay. Let me see what else I can do.
At this point, I am forced to unleash my Google Fu. The first thing I come up with is the radio station’s play list. They only keep the list for the current day and the previous day up on their website, but I give it a look any way.
A song jumps off the list as being in heavy rotation, and I pull it up on iTunes for another sample.
The Queen: That’s it. What’s the name?
Me: Sail by Awolnation.
The Queen: How did you find that?
As near as I can tell, The Queen took her photo just as the station was moving to the next song. The radio moves the last song to a ticker tape at the top under the station ID, and she caught it just as Awolnation was marching across the screen. What I mistook for “ination” was “lnation” and that was what caught my eye on the play list. Sail is on heavy rotation (five to six times a day), and is the only band with “nation” in its name.
Score major bonus points for Daddy Hawk and his Google Fu.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Communication
So, The Queen and M&M have a play date today on the other side of the world from Castle Erickson. Daddy Hawk's office just happens to be on the way from point A to point B. Add to that the fact that The Queen and I are going to be playing volleyball (okay, The Queen is playing...I am doing my retarded labrador retriever imitation) with folks from work tonight, and it just made sense to carpool today.
Daddy Hawk and M&M have a pretty good morning routine going. I get up at 5:30ish (depending on how late I was stupid enough to got to bed) and go take care of immediate needs while trying to prevent certain bodily noises from waking up the entire house. After Daddy Hawk's morning inspection of the porcelain throne, M&M is usually stirring. So, after she gets a clean diaper, she and I head off to the kitchen for her morning cereal bottle (3 parts formula to 1 part rice cereal). After that, I head for the shower and M&M finishes her bottle following which she decides that the back of her eyelids are much more visually stimulating than the pre dawn darkness. Sometime between 7:00 and 8:00, I leave the house to brave traffic.
Adding The Queen to this routine.....changes things....a bit.
We did manage to leave the house (the first time) at around 7:00 this morning which is a pretty good accomplishment in and of itself given that The Queen is not a morning person. However, as The Queen's chariot was warming up we have the following conversation:
The Queen: It's cold [ed. it was 39 degrees with light wind gusts]. Would you go get my gloves?
Me: Where are they?
The Queen: In the closet.
Me: Where in the closet? [ed. it's a fairly large closet mostly stuffed with The Queen's attire]
The Queen: Left side as you walk in the door on the right side.
Me: Up, down, middle?
The Queen: Middle.
Me: Okay.
I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the master closet and locate a pair of black, women's gloves in the middle of the shelves on the right side of the left wall as you enter the closet. Turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
Me: Here you go sweetie.
The Queen: Those aren't the right gloves.
Me: Your kidding.
The Queen: No. I wanted the brown gloves. There were three pair sitting there.
Me: You didn't say anything about which pair you wanted? You asked for gloves. I brought you gloves. Me man...one pair gloves.
The Queen: I don't want those.
Me: So, you want me to go back and get you the brown pair, right?
The Queen: Yes, please.
I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the master closet and locate a pair of white mittens with some black design knitted into them and a pair of light tan gloves, not brown mind you...tan, in the middle of the shelves on the right side of the left wall as you enter the closet just under where I found the black gloves. I see no brown gloves. She asked for brown gloves. There's NO brown. I decide that she clearly does not want white with black for she said brown and grab the tan pair in the hopes that they are in fact the right pair (given that they are my only remaining option). Turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
Me: Are these the one's you want?
The Queen: No.
Me: [brow furrowing, dark clouds gathering]
The Queen: I'm just kidding. Yes, those are the ones.
Me: Those are not brown. Those are tan. Barely a shade darker than white.
The Queen: [pointing to a small...tiny really...tag sewn into the glove at the wrist] See, there's some brown.
Me: [putting tan gloves next to brown purse] This is brown...that is tan. You need to use a little more specificity in your communication [ed. there is some delicious irony in this statement...trust me.].
So, anygloves, the drama of the hand warmers is settled, and we merrily trundle off to Starbucks for our poisons of choice (iced tea for me {yes, I know I am weird for drinking iced tea when it is 39 degrees out. I blame my mother} and decaf coffee for her). I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, go into Starbucks, get our drinks, go back outside, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
The Queen: Where's M&M's coat?
Me: [holding up a pink winter coat] Right here.
The Queen: No, the red one with the pink stripe.
Me: Back at the house. Do we need to go get it?
The Queen: Will the pink one be warm enough?
Me: I think so.
The Queen: Well, I don't want to make you late for work.
Me: [suppressing a chuckle] It's okay.
Start the car, head in the general direction of home and work (Starbucks was a mile away from the direct path to work, but there is no Starbucks convenient to my commute until you get almost to the office).
Me: Did you remember to get the foccasia bread [ed. for the play date lunch]?
The Queen: Uhhh...no. I have mommy brain really bad.
We get back to the house. I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the kitchen, get the foccasia bread and the red coat with the pink stripe, turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
The Queen: Did you get M&M's sippy cup with juice?
Me: No. I thought you said the diaper bag was ready.
The Queen: It just dawned on me.
Me: Where is the sippy cup?
The Queen: In the dishwasher [ed. which happens to be dirty because it was not full and I didn't run it last night.].
Me: What kind of juice do you want for her?
The Queen: Apple juice.
Me: Should I warm it up?
The Queen: Yes, please.
[ed. bear in mind that we both have the giggles at this point with The Queen adding sheepishness to her voice and me adding my best droll, long suffering husband voice for effect.]
Me: Anything else?
The Queen: No.
Me: You sure?
The Queen: yes.
Me: [holding up the house keys] It's your turn.
The Queen: I don't want to.
Me: Uh uh. I'm going to sit here and relax and enjoy my tea.
The Queen: I hurt [ed. The Queen has not been feeling well of late dealing with a chronic infection that is resisting our efforts to kill it.].
Me: Okay.
I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the kitchen, warm up some apple juice, turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
Believe it or not, I made it to work more or less on time.
Daddy Hawk and M&M have a pretty good morning routine going. I get up at 5:30ish (depending on how late I was stupid enough to got to bed) and go take care of immediate needs while trying to prevent certain bodily noises from waking up the entire house. After Daddy Hawk's morning inspection of the porcelain throne, M&M is usually stirring. So, after she gets a clean diaper, she and I head off to the kitchen for her morning cereal bottle (3 parts formula to 1 part rice cereal). After that, I head for the shower and M&M finishes her bottle following which she decides that the back of her eyelids are much more visually stimulating than the pre dawn darkness. Sometime between 7:00 and 8:00, I leave the house to brave traffic.
Adding The Queen to this routine.....changes things....a bit.
We did manage to leave the house (the first time) at around 7:00 this morning which is a pretty good accomplishment in and of itself given that The Queen is not a morning person. However, as The Queen's chariot was warming up we have the following conversation:
The Queen: It's cold [ed. it was 39 degrees with light wind gusts]. Would you go get my gloves?
Me: Where are they?
The Queen: In the closet.
Me: Where in the closet? [ed. it's a fairly large closet mostly stuffed with The Queen's attire]
The Queen: Left side as you walk in the door on the right side.
Me: Up, down, middle?
The Queen: Middle.
Me: Okay.
I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the master closet and locate a pair of black, women's gloves in the middle of the shelves on the right side of the left wall as you enter the closet. Turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
Me: Here you go sweetie.
The Queen: Those aren't the right gloves.
Me: Your kidding.
The Queen: No. I wanted the brown gloves. There were three pair sitting there.
Me: You didn't say anything about which pair you wanted? You asked for gloves. I brought you gloves. Me man...one pair gloves.
The Queen: I don't want those.
Me: So, you want me to go back and get you the brown pair, right?
The Queen: Yes, please.
I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the master closet and locate a pair of white mittens with some black design knitted into them and a pair of light tan gloves, not brown mind you...tan, in the middle of the shelves on the right side of the left wall as you enter the closet just under where I found the black gloves. I see no brown gloves. She asked for brown gloves. There's NO brown. I decide that she clearly does not want white with black for she said brown and grab the tan pair in the hopes that they are in fact the right pair (given that they are my only remaining option). Turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
Me: Are these the one's you want?
The Queen: No.
Me: [brow furrowing, dark clouds gathering]
The Queen: I'm just kidding. Yes, those are the ones.
Me: Those are not brown. Those are tan. Barely a shade darker than white.
The Queen: [pointing to a small...tiny really...tag sewn into the glove at the wrist] See, there's some brown.
Me: [putting tan gloves next to brown purse] This is brown...that is tan. You need to use a little more specificity in your communication [ed. there is some delicious irony in this statement...trust me.].
So, anygloves, the drama of the hand warmers is settled, and we merrily trundle off to Starbucks for our poisons of choice (iced tea for me {yes, I know I am weird for drinking iced tea when it is 39 degrees out. I blame my mother} and decaf coffee for her). I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, go into Starbucks, get our drinks, go back outside, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
The Queen: Where's M&M's coat?
Me: [holding up a pink winter coat] Right here.
The Queen: No, the red one with the pink stripe.
Me: Back at the house. Do we need to go get it?
The Queen: Will the pink one be warm enough?
Me: I think so.
The Queen: Well, I don't want to make you late for work.
Me: [suppressing a chuckle] It's okay.
Start the car, head in the general direction of home and work (Starbucks was a mile away from the direct path to work, but there is no Starbucks convenient to my commute until you get almost to the office).
Me: Did you remember to get the foccasia bread [ed. for the play date lunch]?
The Queen: Uhhh...no. I have mommy brain really bad.
We get back to the house. I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the kitchen, get the foccasia bread and the red coat with the pink stripe, turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
The Queen: Did you get M&M's sippy cup with juice?
Me: No. I thought you said the diaper bag was ready.
The Queen: It just dawned on me.
Me: Where is the sippy cup?
The Queen: In the dishwasher [ed. which happens to be dirty because it was not full and I didn't run it last night.].
Me: What kind of juice do you want for her?
The Queen: Apple juice.
Me: Should I warm it up?
The Queen: Yes, please.
[ed. bear in mind that we both have the giggles at this point with The Queen adding sheepishness to her voice and me adding my best droll, long suffering husband voice for effect.]
Me: Anything else?
The Queen: No.
Me: You sure?
The Queen: yes.
Me: [holding up the house keys] It's your turn.
The Queen: I don't want to.
Me: Uh uh. I'm going to sit here and relax and enjoy my tea.
The Queen: I hurt [ed. The Queen has not been feeling well of late dealing with a chronic infection that is resisting our efforts to kill it.].
Me: Okay.
I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the kitchen, warm up some apple juice, turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
Believe it or not, I made it to work more or less on time.
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