Wotan's Ass
This post is not at all ass-related except insofar as it self-relates. In an earlier post (which you did not appreciate sufficiently, you swine!) I commented on my usual manner of response to things which annoy me, which response, I must say, is not Gandhi-like or even Ed Grimley-like.
My child, my lovely daughter, is not to be measured by adult standards (although we measure her in adult measures such as centimetres or inches, kilos or pounds, and by her ability to dodge rapidly descending objects, which does seem to ask a bit much of one so fair) but it's a mad mad mad mad world, people and we are in training for the end-times over here. Speaking of which, this week parliament has reconvened, and our new (and much-improved, I have NO DOUBT- NONE!) government has stepped in, or slid in, leaving a slimy sluglike trial behind it (well, to be fair, there is no shortage of gastropods in our federal house, and it's not even that the current governing lot are that much worse than the prior group, who were incorrigible swine, it's just that this group will align us with other, bigger, meaner kids in an effort to take over the schoolyard, when what made us special [at least, mom said so] was our geeky but determined ability to say no to bullies, to be a little less aligned, not to be a rogue and feed the beast of anomie and blah blah blah middle class blah socialized health care blah blah Volvos blah) and I wish I had a salt shaker on hand the size of, I don't know, this egg, and the means to take it to Ottawa. While there, I would try to say hello to the delightful Mary P and skate on the canal.
So, back to the part of the post where I am not, ass-like, the subject. E learns, as children do, by observation. She's picked up words by repetition (Damnit!) that maybe we'd rather not have said so often... so, to our topic, THE VOICE OF COMMAND!
I tend to speak in a specific tone to our evil and disgusting cats when they do something which is foul and worthy of castigation (which is frequently). It is stern, firm, and a bit loud. It is the VOC! I say: Dexter, come here! or, Filip, don't do that! It does not work, mind you.
This has not deterred e from using the VOC! in her dealings with the cats. If they are engaged in one of their flat-eared cat-boxing matches and she is near: Guys, don't do that! Carpet scratching: Filip, don't do that! Don't do that! It's great, having this assistance in my never-ending cat management program. It takes two people. (And when the Nuthatch hatches [or APOLLO, thanks MD], it will take three people.)
Sadly, I cannot convey how e sounds when she uses the VOC! It involves her furrowing her brow, dropping her chin, raising her voice and speaking from the top of her throat and sinuses in a deeper voice than is usual. It's, um, hilarious! But the VOC! must be used appropriately, and largely on cats, and not on fathers. Witness the child as she seeks both parents to join her in her room: Daddy, COME HERE. DADDY, COME HERE! Someone to push her cart: Daddy, DO IT. DO IT, DADDY! AGAIN!
Of course, during those less formal moments, she will say: P-man (not my actual name) COME HERE! COME HERE, P-MAN!
What have I done?
My child, my lovely daughter, is not to be measured by adult standards (although we measure her in adult measures such as centimetres or inches, kilos or pounds, and by her ability to dodge rapidly descending objects, which does seem to ask a bit much of one so fair) but it's a mad mad mad mad world, people and we are in training for the end-times over here. Speaking of which, this week parliament has reconvened, and our new (and much-improved, I have NO DOUBT- NONE!) government has stepped in, or slid in, leaving a slimy sluglike trial behind it (well, to be fair, there is no shortage of gastropods in our federal house, and it's not even that the current governing lot are that much worse than the prior group, who were incorrigible swine, it's just that this group will align us with other, bigger, meaner kids in an effort to take over the schoolyard, when what made us special [at least, mom said so] was our geeky but determined ability to say no to bullies, to be a little less aligned, not to be a rogue and feed the beast of anomie and blah blah blah middle class blah socialized health care blah blah Volvos blah) and I wish I had a salt shaker on hand the size of, I don't know, this egg, and the means to take it to Ottawa. While there, I would try to say hello to the delightful Mary P and skate on the canal.
So, back to the part of the post where I am not, ass-like, the subject. E learns, as children do, by observation. She's picked up words by repetition (Damnit!) that maybe we'd rather not have said so often... so, to our topic, THE VOICE OF COMMAND!
I tend to speak in a specific tone to our evil and disgusting cats when they do something which is foul and worthy of castigation (which is frequently). It is stern, firm, and a bit loud. It is the VOC! I say: Dexter, come here! or, Filip, don't do that! It does not work, mind you.
This has not deterred e from using the VOC! in her dealings with the cats. If they are engaged in one of their flat-eared cat-boxing matches and she is near: Guys, don't do that! Carpet scratching: Filip, don't do that! Don't do that! It's great, having this assistance in my never-ending cat management program. It takes two people. (And when the Nuthatch hatches [or APOLLO, thanks MD], it will take three people.)
Sadly, I cannot convey how e sounds when she uses the VOC! It involves her furrowing her brow, dropping her chin, raising her voice and speaking from the top of her throat and sinuses in a deeper voice than is usual. It's, um, hilarious! But the VOC! must be used appropriately, and largely on cats, and not on fathers. Witness the child as she seeks both parents to join her in her room: Daddy, COME HERE. DADDY, COME HERE! Someone to push her cart: Daddy, DO IT. DO IT, DADDY! AGAIN!
Of course, during those less formal moments, she will say: P-man (not my actual name) COME HERE! COME HERE, P-MAN!
What have I done?
posted by p-man at 9:21 a.m.
1 Comments:
The voice of command is amazing. Simply for the existence of it I wish we were 'camcorder people' or whatever video technology portable to the interweb.
I sometimes consider its tone to be akin to Hal at disconnect time. Imagine an 18 month old brow furrowed speaking in the style.. Don't do that Dave but angrier!
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