Peter 'Happy' Thomas (happypete) wrote,
Peter 'Happy' Thomas
happypete

What's good about it? [in which Happy is uncharateristically cranky]

Let's see, I scared Quinn so much last night that he informed his mother that "he wanted a new daddy that wouldn't scare him." I was playing Igor--the Mad Scientist's assistant--and part of my role was to select a victim from the crowd. Usually I picked out our pre-staged "audience member," but every now and again someone's "friend" would push forward their own choice of victim...if the poor designee was being a good sport, I'd ghoulishly chop their parts off as well.

Well, then prettypammie and Quinn came through...Quinn was looking like he was doing alright--not clinging in mommy's arms or anything. He had seen me in the room getting my makeup on, and had been excitedly talking about how "his daddy was scaring people." So, thinks I, I'll take Quinn as my victim. I grabbed him and started to haul him away, only to be stopped by his death-grip on the bars that separated our "waiting room" from our "laboratory." I put him down, informing my good doctor that "this one was too feisty," an went in search of my DV [designated victim].

Let's see, did I mention that this gig involved standing for four hours, in heavy cake makeup, in a hot room, in a yucky assistant wig, yelling and screaming my guts out...

After being on travel since Thursday for a very intense corporate leadership off-site. I got off the plane, hitched a ride home with a coworker, dropped my bags, bolted to pick up Quinn from the baby-sitter, started getting made up, handed Quinn off to Pam, and then it was show-time...We served the crowds from about 6:30 to nearly 10:30, non-stop.

All in a good cause, the Picatinny youth group. Apparently several thousand (I heard a figure of at least four) were raised to support their programs throughout the year. This morning I feel like bottled...pickled...death. Itchy, tired, sore, hoarse, stuffy...

Like I said: "What's good about it?"

p.s. After my heart-felt apology this morning and some snuggles, Quinn has forgiven me and no longer wants a new daddy.
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  • Farewell

    photognome died of heart failure yesterday. I don't have words right now.

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