Ode to Bill Cosby

Does anyone remember that Bill Cosby “Himself” show? I remember it as a kid, and laughing so hard I peed my pants. A few times. Now, watching it as a parent, there’s a whole new level of funny in there. Like the part where he feeds his kids chocolate cake for breakfast, reasoning that cake has basically the same ingredients as pancakes, and since his wife sent HIM downstairs to feed them breakfast, by golly, he’s going to feed them what he wants. Then the wife comes down, sees all of them eating chocolate cake for breakfast, and in a very loud voice orders Bill upstairs so she can repair the damage. Which, by the way, was exactly where Bill had wanted to be all along. As he says at the end of that little story…”We men are stupid, but we are not so stupid”, or something like that.

I lived that last night, almost. It was my sock knitting class night, which we won’t even go into right now all the problems associated with that, but if you’re on ravelry, you can look up my beef under the forum for Remnants, entitled Etiquette question for LYS owners. Sock knitting class night means that I have to fix dinner early, so it’s ready for them to eat once they get back home, then package up all 3 boys, go over to my WW to weigh in right at 5:30 when they start, so I have time to do all that and then hopefully hubby will show up close to 5:30 since it takes me about 20 to 25 minutes to get to the class, and it starts at 6. He was only running about 10 minutes late, so that’s pretty good for him. I was stupid and waited in the parking lot instead of going ahead inside, dragging all 3 boys with me and weighing in while waiting for him. He had previously asked if the boys had eaten yet. I answered no, but that supper was ready, if he wanted that. He had wanted to take them to this pizza place that has kids eat free on Tuesdays. I said, sure, supper can be re-heated, and I won’t have to fix anything that next night. Just make sure, I said, to be home early enough to allow son#1 about an hour to finish up a school project. I assumed that hubby would know that said hour needed to be completed by 8, as that’s the time to begin the “going to bed” procedure. Especially on nights when baths are needed, which I forgot to mention. So, I do take partial blame.

I walk in from knitting class at 8:45. Sons 2 and 3 are in pj, running around screaming and chasing each other. Hubby is in sweats and a PJ top, leading me to believe they’ve been there for a while. Son #2, the informant (Bill Cosby Himself reference again), let me know that they just got home.

Son #1’s hour has just begun.

At 8:45.


This is the boy who get over tired easily and pukes and sleeps for several hours, and then wakes up fine, but if he pukes I keep him home from school because what if the one time I go ahead and send him he actually has the flu or something? I cut him off at 9:30. Tonight…no puking.


This is why I never go anywhere. You see, he is stupid, but he is not so stupid.


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November 2007
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