Boy, while eating ice cream: I had a revelation.
Me: About what?
Boy: Diminishing marginal utility.
Me: You finally get why someone would get tired of eating ice cream?
Boy: Because they put chocolate throughout the ice cream I have to keep eating… And they put big chunks of heath bar randomly so it’s like I’ve got to find them… And then it’s like UHHHMMM.
I’m moving into a studio and the boy is helping. He found a box of his Cheerios while we were unpacking. And proceeded to have two bowls around midnight.
“Oh my god these are so good. I forgot how good these are. Do you want some?”
Last night we watched The King of Kong — a documentary about middle-aged men who devote their lives to getting the top score on Donkey Kong. Which, from what I can tell, is a low-res 80’s video game that involves barrels rolling down platforms and hitting you. Each level seems basically a repeat of the last, although the documentary and the boy assure me that this is not the case.
So what is the boy doing tonight? Thanksgiving, 1 am? Playing Donkey Kong and drinking red bull.
The boy bought what he refers to as “boy toys” this weekend.
32″ tv: $300
Xbox kinect: $150
Dance game: $50
Watching the boy dance in his underwear to “Funky Town” and “Poker Face” on a rainy Sunday: priceless.
a recent gchat with the boy, in which I try to convince him that I need the fancy online carbonite backup service:
me: have you heard of carbonite? I just heard their ad on pandora and for the first time ever with an ad on pandora — I’m tempted to buy it
5$ a month to back up your files online
boy: $5 a month
60 a year
120 for 2 years
180 for 3 years
external hard drive with automatic backup. = 70 dollars or so
me: but then I’d have to pick something out & tote it about, no?
automatically backup at end of day
that’s a giant one for only 130 bucks
me: but what if THAT breaks, too!
boy: then i guess it never ends
harddrives all the way down
While downing the last of his nachos from the Treehouse:
Boy: “It would suck to be a cook and work behind a hot stove all day.”
Me: “Are you experiencing empathy?”
Boy: “Empathy hurts.”
And, after a few more nachos — “I bet they get paid pretty well though.”
The boy’s on day 3 of a nasty cold. Driving to Safeway for more orange juice:
“You know, I’m on board with physician-assisted suicide. Seriously, I could be talked into that right now.”