Friday, February 13, 2015

Happy Valentine's Day

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Christopher and Captain Imperfecto

February 13, 2015


This is a satire

It’s Saint Valentines Day, February 14th, for many people around the world who will be celebrating that little bastard…err cherub. Why is it only Christmas that has one miserable old man, Ebenezer Scrooge? For, Saint Valentine’s Day, has so many more miserable people, at all ages, who will just say the same thing that old geezer has been saying for a century on the Christmas holiday, “Bah! Humbug!”

Maybe you’re single, in a divorce, crappy relationship, or just not happy with who you are with. Being uninterested or uninteresting can make a lot of people feel unhappy. So we should all start by loving ourselves. That is right! You have tolerated yourself for years! When, maybe, others couldn’t tolerate you for decades. So why not celebrate all things you this Valentine’s Day?

Buy yourself some chocolate. Go eat some ice cream. Find some flower vender on the side of the road and shower the seller with money as you smother yourself in the sweet smell of flowers or roses. 

Be happy with you! Love yourself. After all you have your, real life, beating heart right there smack dab in the middle of your chest. Be good to yourself. Realize this Valentine’s Day that no matter how bad a relationship you have had, or have, that you have the best of the best, you have, YOU! And that ain’t bad. 

It’s worse when someone doesn’t value who you are as a person. And buying a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolate, only once a year, doesn’t demonstrate your value in the least. Their action throughout an entire year is what counts. Sorry ladies, Valentine’s Day is a sham. Men are being told to celebrate you once a year when you deserved to be celebrated all year round.

This blog isn’t about being bitter for anything or anyone who has found love. Because love is a bonding, loving, occurrence and when you decided to break off that love from your soul and give it to someone else who doesn’t care can be more than heartbreaking. The results of breaking away a piece of you can be devastating to your body to the point where you think you can’t breathe because someone rejected your love. 

Your love just wasn’t meant for that person. So you, we, all of us, press on and while we move on, we return to loving ourselves. We learn to grow back the part of our heart and soul that we gave the other person while watching that person take our love for granted and we make progress to healing.

As people we accept that heartache as a part of life. We live and learn. But we only learn long enough until someone else comes back in our life and we rip those stitches out of the chest, killing all that healing, and dissolving any head way we made of accepting the loss of the prior person we gave our heart to, before THIS person, who just waltzed in on Valentine’s Day, decided they wanted some heart action from you. So after wining and dining, on Valentine’s Day, you suspect that their intentions aren’t genuine and leaving you to think about their future disappointments that this NEW person may hand down to you. So, you just go back to loving youself because, loving yourself is what’s the best, for us, and then we heal our heart again. Well, you know what? “Bah! Humbug!” 

Copyright © Captain Imperfecto, LLC, All rights reserved. 


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Monday, February 9, 2015

The Competition

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Nico and Christopher
February 9, 2015


I hear a ruckus that startles me from my sleep. The pounding of feet on my wood floors can be heard throughout the house. I’m scared shitless. I’m afraid to move in the slightest, so much so, that I don’t even blink.  I know that hiding under my white covered down comforter isn’t going to save me however, it doesn’t stop me from trying to slowly cover my face with the very movement I’m trying to avoid. My thinking is if I can hide myself, maybe if I stay hidden, I won’t be found by anything or anyone. That whoever or whatever is just beyond my bedroom door, will just go away.

My heart races fast as it pounds in my chest as I begin to slide the cover over my face. I’m sure the beating of my heart can be heard a mile away making coving my face a moot point. Surely, my beating heart is going to give me away anyhow. The blood is coursing through my veins and I start to perspire as if I was running a marathon. Nothing worse than sweating in bed, that is of course, unless you’re having sex. And even for some women a mans sweat in bed is bad.

My eyes have adjusted to the night so I can see the shadows of my room as a slide my blanket over my head quickly blacking out my surroundings. Even though I can’t see I can hear tiny giggles are creeping from under my door.  The heavy comforter is failing to drown out the sound. My curiosity gets to me so I slowly peek out from my make shift protective covers while focusing on my door while I try to hear what is being said.

The whispers are so faint that the voices sound like swishing noises. But I know they are talking. They’re planning something. They want to charge in but the people behind my close door are deciding who’s going to be first. This anticipation is killing me. I wish they’d just do it already. Barge in, run towards me, do something. I can’t take it any longer!

They must have heard me because the door swings open wildly. The force of the swinging door is strong enough that it strikes the wall and begins to close again.  But the momentum isn’t strong enough to close all the way allowing the 2 rambunctious children to race into my bed. The competition begins as the two little silhouettes jockey for position. They start to pull and push each other as they trip over their feet.

CRASH!

They both go down to the ground. There is a tremendous thud as their bodies collide.  I see one little body get up and begin to move towards me but before the shadow figure can advance it’s pulled back by a little hand that is reaching up from the ground.

BOOM!

Down goes the only little body standing as the little soul is pushed down into my poor Labrador who is trying to sleep in his therapeutic mattress bed that’s made for dogs strategically placed along my side of the bes so he can sleep close to his master. 

CLANK!

The sides of the bed shake uncontrollably. It’s as if I’m caught in a bad thunderstorm.  Who will win this battle to get at me? Why am I just laying here, vulnerable, waiting to be mauled by these creatures? I just want to sleep but I don’t know what is going to happen next and the anticipation of the final results have me wide awake!

ARGH!

Finally a small little hand reaches me. It’s Christopher, my youngest son, and he begins to pull himself up to me. He pulls my safety covers back exposing a spot for him to lay his body down along my body. I contemplate helping him but I don’t want to choose sides. This has got to be winner takes all so, the winner must earn this. But even if I did help him there is nothing I could do to prevent the events that have began since this competition started a few months ago.

YIKES!

Nico, my oldest 6 year old, reaches up and pulls Christopher’s shirt back as Nico begins to climb over him. It’s a battle royal and the winner will have the right to sleep by my side while the loser has to sleep in the middle of the king sized bed. 

VICTORY!

Finally, Nico uses his bigger body and muscles his way in and settles in along my back. He divides Christopher and me like a mallet crushing a rock in two. They both made it nonetheless they achieved a spot in bed next to daddy with Nico finally winning the competition of laying next to me. 

I want to ask them how they feel after their grueling fight they fell asleep as quickly as they rushed in and now I’m wide awake. I’m left with only my own competition to fall a sleep, wedged between a short distance of time and a new dawn. 


Copyright © Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved.
- See more at: http://captainimperfecto.com/blog_details.php?blog_id=232#sthash.HHobjlRd.dpuf