Sometimes in your day, nothing goes right. Sweet Jesus, just nothing.
Say you wake up on a Monday and your wife is feeling sick because she is carrying a bowling ball in her stomach. You have to take the kid. It throws you off your routine ever so slightly.
Then say your day is spent getting your ass chewed by different individuals about anything and everything that doesn’t matter. Maybe you’re to blunt, maybe you think that some people are overly sensitive and should shut the fuck up.
Then say halfway through your day your home A/C goes out and you have to run home because you are the only one who can take the leave and meet the charming overcharging assholes there. Only to find out that they have to do something special to your A/C that isn’t covered by your warranty, because apparently nothing is. Then you just pay your money because you have to have A/C when it’s 105 out and you have a pregnant wife.
So you hustle back to work only to find that the assination of your Monday was continuing in your absence. You know you should just say fuck it, but instead you power through it although you are doubting the existence of anything pure and good in the world.
You have to stay late at work but at least you are thinking that Hey, maybe I can miss some traffic. Only to find out that the news story about the 14 year old running from police actually took place on your one and only freeway. So whatever traffic you were going to miss had the decency to actually wait for you, unlike anyone else that day.
You get home a hell of a lot later than you usually do to find that your daughter is in bed and you get a grand total of 5 minutes with her, which just makes you hate everyone else even more. Your wife is burned out from feeling sick and the heat but at least the A/C is finally working. But you missed dinner so it’s cold pizza for you chump as your wife mumbles something and heads off to bed. The only thing you understand is that your daughter threw a fit while you were gone because the box she loves to play in finally busted.
You look around and think, what the hell happened to me today? What the Sam Fuck Me T-Shirt was I wearing to get this way today? And what the hell am I going to do to at least end it on a good note?
If you are like me, then you build your daughter a Donkey Box.
Why?
Because somebody has to love you god dammit. Somebody has to believe that you are the all great hero and superdad. And if that means spending three hours putting back together a silly box that she destroyed, then dammit, someone is going to have a very cool morning when she wakes up and sees this monstrosity that I made.
First, grab a roll, a roll and a half, of duct tape. This the all purpose superdad supertool. We all know it. The duct tape is the key to the entire Donkey Box.
I put the box back together but then, like the six million dollar man—I made it faster, tougher, more boxier-er-er. You should see this thing. NASA called this morning and want it for their next space shuttle launch. You can put a good 100 pounds of rice in this thing and hide Charlie at the same time without breaking a sweat.
Each side is reinforced with two long strips of duct tape. I then covered this with, well, more duct tape. Because if two strips are good, then three are better.
But wait, there’s more. After the box is back in it’s original form, now you need to add some reinforcement to the corners. This is the week spot of any good box and if it is going to add up to the wear and tear of Little Hoss it’s going to need some extra hull plating there. It needs to repulse Romulan attacks. I put another two strips through all 4 corners. I practically used rivets. This thing would withstand the weight of a sumo-wrestler.
We’re not done. You have to think safety people, constant vigilance! Take the 4 flaps from the top of the box and fold them down. Add an additional weaving to the man tape to get them down. But remember that these open ends can produce mind numbing paper cuts—be prepared to suffer a few. Use the appropriate amount of tape, and by that I mean no less that 12 yards, and tape off these edges.
Then for good measure, wrap some more tape around the whole thing. Put it anywhere you want it, it’s designer’s choice.
But what makes this a Donkey box and not just a normal super reinforced death machine?
You add a tail.
The tail that I added is about 3 feet long, totally made out of duct tape. I went for the Eor look with the tail and added a triangle shape at the end. I figured that this would give her a good hand hold to grab onto and drag the Donkey box around for ultimate destruction purposes. Attach it to said box by liberal use of yet more duct tape making sure you reinforce any connection points.
And there you go, a box that looks like a Donkey. Except on the side it says Little Hoss Machine of Vengeance. Written in glitter, because that kicks ass.
It was the best 3 hours of my entire day. My wife woke up around 9 and came downstairs to see what all the commotion was about. I just screamed “Donkey Box!” and made the dogs chase her back upstairs. It was piece and quiet with the ultimate goal of at least pleasing one person in my craptacular day. 3 hours was worth it as I was drinking a beer and yes dammit, I took a dip for the first time in days.
It was pure euphoria. And I know that when I pick up my daughter this afternoon and take her home she is going to go apeshit over the new and improved Donkey Box. She thought it was destroyed, but superdad has rebuilt it to perfection. She will look at me and think “My Dad can Kick Your Dad’s Ass.”
Yes honey, yes I can.
"Little Hoss Machine of Vengeance. Written in glitter, because that kicks ass"
ReplyDeleteThis line made my day! You're right, glitter does in fact kick ass.
Thanks for the mid-week pick me up.
What about Donkey Ears made out of the souls of my enemies? Does that do anything for you?
ReplyDeleteBecause of things like a Donkey Box, with a kickass glittery slogan, and the fact that he is totally committed to, and totally in love with his wife, and despite the fact that he WILL NOT KEEP ME POSTED IN TIMES OF CRISIS, is why my son-in-law holds a very special place in my heart.
ReplyDelete