Life was getting too simple, so I arranged for a bunch of weirdness to keep me on my toes.
I started teaching my Intro to Literature class last night. I have five students. In academic terms, that is known as a either a "seminar," or a "freakin' joke." Not much to report on that front, except that they immediately started asking if we had homework, and telling me that they usually don't. These are "college" students. I think I successfully telegraphed my expectations for them by popping on a DVD of "Dead Poets Society." My message: "Although I plan on phoning this class in, I want you to be inspired by Robin Williams to have great passion about literature, and I want you to love and idolize me the way his students love and idolize him."
My mother-in-law is staying with us for a couple of weeks. There's always a bit of an adjustment period when she comes here. At first, I resist her taking over some of my usual workload, just because I have become set in my ways and don't like it when other people stack the dishes differently, or stash unidentifiable bits of food, containers of liquid, and slightly used paper towels in unlikely nooks around the house. Then there is the language barrier. I don't mind it when it's just MIL, the babies, and me at home, because we all speak different languages and don't really try to have in-depth conversations. But when my wife and/or other in-laws are around, there is constant Vietnamese chatter in the air. This can be jarring. But after a while, it just turns into a melodic background noise.
While my MIL is here, I am going to try to paint the outside of the house. And teach a class. And get surgery. I have to have belly-button surgery on Friday. I contemplated posting footage of my umbilical hernia, but decided it would be way too weird. Then I was going to link to someone else's youtubeage of their umbilical hernia, but that was equally disturbing. Look it up if you must. Anyway, I should be all jacked up on sedatives and opiates on Friday afternoon, so I'll try to post some William S. Burroughs-esque rants when I get home.
I also still have elbow problems. After the boat tried to rip my arm out of its socket, I slowly recovered for the next week, and my arm was not completely useless. Then I was holding one baby in my right arm and going in for the swoop-n-snatch with the other baby, when there was a click in a different part of my elbow, graceless release of both babies onto the floor, and much howling and cursing by everyone. As soon as I began recovering from that incident, I had a replay as I steadied myself by hanging from an overhead bar with my bad arm as I prepared to go down the slide with Cobra on my lap. Advanced paternal age is not something to be taken lightly.