Claw marks in the frozen peas

Whatever You Can Do, I Can Do Better

I’ve had this knack for walking through crowds with ease since my days working at Disneyland years ago. I can quickly weave through people of all shapes and sizes, and I can avoid the sea of strollers without much effort. When I’m stuck behind a disabled person or a slower moving person, I kind of hesitate to pass by, because I feel like I’m showing off. I’m thinking, “Oh, look at me. Look at what I can do with both of my legs.”

Yes, Hell has reservations for me in the hottest ring. Whatever, I heard they do Happy Hour every Tuesday and Wednesday. How bad can it be?

Marathons for Everyone

What if I wanted to participate in a marathon, or even a half marathon, but I don’t like to run? There are maybe only be a few times you’ll ever see me run. When my life is in danger, or if you formed a giant pyramid of pillows, I would want to get a running start to cannonball dive into the mound of comfortable goodness. We need to create marathons for those who don’t like to exert more physical effort than is necessary. Maybe napping contests, where everyone is a winner.

The Thing with Long Hair

When I wake up in the morning, I can’t really jet out to get breakfast without having to shower first. Baseball caps are an option, but why should I ruin this fabulous head of hair? I like to sleep on my side, so by the time I wake up in the morning my hair is all kinds of fro-y. I end up looking like Son Goku from Dragon Ball or at the very least, I look like a Hong Kong movie star.

Little Ones are Great… until they get pee on you.

My brother and his girlfriend lived at home when they had their first kid. Chase was and still is the greatest kid ever, and he never had a problem with being ugly. One evening, I went over to my parents room to play with Chase who was about two years old at the time. I remember I was down on the floor in front of my parents’ bed, and I was laying on top of a wet spot that I thought was water. (Kids tend to spill things easily.) I was laying on top of this wet spot for at least 45 minutes when Chase came over with sippy cup in hand, gave a slight smirk, and promptly kicked me in the throat. The devil. This kid is the devil, but not as evil as his sister. He started laughing and my mom started laughing too. I griped to my mom that she shouldn’t let him do things like that, but she didn’t care. I asked her about the wet spot, and she nonchalantly said, “Oh, that’s Chase’s pee.”

I’m No Obama

We moved to a different city when I was in the fifth grade, which meant an entirely new school. The kids at this new school dressed differently, talked differently and were into different things entirely. It was tough getting acclimated in such a strange environment, and I was only one city removed from where I used to live.

One kid in my class talked me into running for Vice President because “VP -4- VP” was catchy, or at least he convinced me it was. He even offered to write my campaign speech … in the form of a rap. Ridiculous? Yes, but it was 1990 and hip-hop was supreme. I obviously don’t remember the entire rap, but I’ll never forget the way it began. “Yo, I’m Vinh and I’m here to say! Vote for me and I’ll make your day!” With such mad flow, you would think I was a shoe-in for the Vice Presidency, but I lost by a landslide. I distinctly remember how nervous I was giving the speech because I had to give it in front of sixth graders. It wasn’t so much the rap as it was my fiscal policy that failed to earn me my seat in office.

Socks Conundrum

I never know what to do with my old socks, it doesn’t feel right throwing them in the trash, and I know of no proper way of recycling them. For the last few years, I’ve been including my socks along with other clothing items I donate to the peeps at Goodwill. I feel awkward donating old socks, so I usually put them at the bottom of the bag, and I’ll place regular items on top to hide my shame. The guy who works at the donation center sorts the items into different piles. I’m sure when he comes across my socks he turns to his imaginary friend Hobo Pete and exclaims, “Get a load of this guy who donated old socks. What are we supposed to do, use them as pot holders or something? He’s craaazy…”

I’m Not Going Bald.

We had hardwood floors put in a few years ago. The benefits include home value appreciation, low maintenance when compared to carpet, and it just looks good. What they don’t tell you about are the dust bunnies, and the bane of my existence, hair I’ve shed. Seeing all of the hair that accumulates on my bedroom floor makes me feel so sad. Oh, how I loathe it. I assure you though, I’m not going bald. In fact, my hair is so full and luscious that you should be jealous.