9 March 2012 – 10:45 PM – Rhiannon and I surfing the Internet on our respective computers in my home office
Rhiannon: Daddy, why are you growling?
Me [snapping my neck around aggressively]: What?!
Rhiannon: You’ve been growling like an angry dog for the last 10 minutes.
Me: No I haven’t! Grrrrrrrrrrr…
Rhiannon: There, you just did it again!
Me: I don’t know what you’re talking about, you poor, foolish child. Grrrrrrrrrrr…
Rhiannon: You didn’t have a beard when you picked me up at the train station an hour ago…
Me [rubbing my face]: What the…? Oh no! Rhiannon, open the blinds a minute.
Rhiannon [frowning]: Um – okay…
Me [searching the night sky]: Oh, fuck. Full moon… Grrrrrrrrrrr…
Rhiannon: What’s your problem this time?
Me: Never mind… I… I better go shave now…
Rhiannon [rolling her eyes]: Yeah, you go do that.
Me [fleeing to the bathroom]: Goddamn it! Grrrrrrrrrrr…
Rhiannon [calling out 10 minutes later]: Daddy, where are you?!
Me [calling back]: Mlaaarrrhhhaagghhhh… Still shaving! Brraaahhhhgggggghhhh… back in a minute!
Rhiannon [calling back]: Are you okay?!
Me [sprinting to the front door and yelling]: Rhiannon, stay here! I’ll be right back!!!
Rhiannon: Where are you going?!!
Me: Just… Just… grrraaaaaghhhh… need to feed… terrible hunger… blaaaaaaaaaahhhhh! Back in a jiff!!
Rhiannon [downloading another episode of Wizards of Waverly Place on YouTube as the house shakes with the slamming of the front door and pounding down the door steps]: Man, he just gets weirder every time I come here.
10 March 2012 – 5:45 PM – back home after seeing the butterflies at the Montreal Botanical Gardens
Rhiannon: That was cool!
Me [shadow boxing in front of the bedroom mirror]: I float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.
Rhiannon: I like how they suck on the oranges.
Me [defiantly]: He got me down at MSG in 1970…
Rhiannon: Their wings are so papery…
Me: But I made vanilla in Manila!
Rhiannon: Isn’t it neat that they’re caterpillars first?
Me: The jungle doesn’t frighten me!
Rhiannon: Isn’t it strange how the butterflies are always having sex all the time, though?
Me [still in front of the bedroom mirror, shadow boxing]: Come on, bitches, I can take it!
Rhiannon: I like how they stick to the flowers…
Me: Bring it, MoFo…
Rhiannon: Were you saying something, Daddy?
Me: Um – no. Were you?
Rhiannon: Um – no.
Me: Thanks, God.
Rhiannon: Want to play some Ninja Wii?
Me: Oh, yeah!
12 March 2012 – 11:10 AM – Rhiannon and I surfing the Internet on our respective computers in my home office
Rhiannon: What is it with you and Asians?
Rhiannon: I’ve been looking at your Facebook all morning.
Me: Oh, dear God, no!
Me: You’re not supposed to look at my Facebook! Gaaaaaaa!
Rhiannon [with coy smirk]: So?
Me: Rhiannon, women come in many varieties and I would like to think I am non-prejudicial. It’s all good.
Rhiannon: What’s a transvestite?
Rhiannon: I’ve already told you that I’ve been looking at your Facebook all morning.
Me: It’s when men dress up as women or women dress up as men.
Rhiannon: Why are you a transvestite?
Rhiannon: Daddy – for the last time, I’ve been looking at your Facebook all morning.
Me [haughtily]: It just makes me happy – okay?
Me: Shut up, Rhiannon.
Rhiannon: What’s a motherfucker?
Rhiannon: I don’t think I need to tell you.
Me: Get in the shower and brush your teeth. This conversation is so over.
Rhiannon [trundling from the room]: Fine – you motherfucker.
Me: Hey! Take that back!
Rhiannon [calling from the bathroom]: No way!