There are some who call me...Tim

+ Latest Entry
+ Older Entries

Site Information
+ Profile
+ Host
+ Recommend Me

Contact Information
+ E-Mail
+ Diaryland Notes

My Band Links (New and Old)
+ Bad Directions
+ Lickin' Lolli
+ PsychoKnife

+ James Randi
+ Left Hand Brewery!

Must Read
+ Stepfordtart
+ GolfWidow
+ Kristin Tracy
+ Dusty Scott

+ annanotbob

+ Daniel

join my Notify List and get email when I update my site:
Powered by

Designed by Golf Widow

2005-06-27 — 10:26 a.m.

Entropy defines entropy, among a few other definitions, as: “The tendency for all matter and energy in the universe to evolve toward a state of inert uniformity.” A fascinating concept, don’t you think? It’s a natural tendency toward disorder from order; the journey from complex to simple; from an organized, structured system into goo. If you’re a teenager, entropy is the natural tendency to expect everything but give nothing. To occupy the couch or recliner in a gelatinous heap or half-assedly, sort of do chores at a glacial pace.

“Teentropy,” as I’m going to call it, also has an interesting, opposite effect. It can make parents and stepparents go from order to chaos! That is to say its effect causes us to travel very quickly from peace to rage. It’s harsh to my mellow. It pisses me off. In their minds, you may as well call it “get bentropy”. The abysmal depths of teen laziness could never be probed in our lifetime.

Now I’ve never claimed to be a patient man, but with my own child I certainly have more than I normally would. What that means is my short fuse is actually long enough to be visible, but it still burns lightning-quick. Simple things can do it, especially if you’re already in a mood.

Last night, one of the dumbest questions in the history of humanity was uttered by my 14-year old daughter. She opened the refrigerator, grabbed the half-gallon of milk, and asked me: “Is this milk good?” “Good” here is defined as ‘unspoiled’. Now, I should inform you that we get a milk delivery once/week, fresh from the farm. She knows this.

OK, let’s break down just how vapid this question actually was:

· She knows we get fresh milk from the dairy
· My fridge doesn’t look anything like a laboratory incubator where I would do my lactobacillus growth experiments
· I don’t have a cold spores, molds, and fungus collection
· We hadn’t been home for 2 days, so no one had recently sampled this 5-day old milk to definitively determine it lack of rottenness
· She didn’t open or smell it, just presented it for my perusal
· My contaminant-detection eyes are out of calibration currently
· Why would I keep rotten milk in the refrigerator?
· What kind of god damned stupid question is that anyway?
· What am I, a milk psychic?
· Surely I should have known that opened, 5-day old milk has the somewhat nefarious property of being the favorite spawning grounds for the wicked 3-headed centipedes from the planet Uugabloo.

When she asked me about the milk, all I could do stand there dumbly and mentally process all the myriad things that she could have done to determine the milk’s status on her own.

After what seemed a lifetime of bathing in a purplish fountain of absurdity (3 or 4 seconds), the best I could do is: “No, I keep all of my spoiled milk in the refrigerator,” or something equally lame. *sigh*

previous - next

Want to comment? Speak up! 0 Quips to Date

Last Five Entries

Goin' back to Cali - 2011-05-10
Healing - 2011-01-27
What if I hadn't done that? - 2010-11-10
Cousin Dave - 2010-09-13
Back to Spokane - 2010-08-25