The darkness within

Today Dadda and I went to his toot-or-ring job again in the morning. I've gotten used to this new place, but it seems that I am largely unsupervised, which works well for me. The other kid has someone who watches him, but I should be the one paying her, because she essentially gets him out of my hair so I can play by myself. It's not that I don't play well with others, it's just that if people don't play by my rules, then I sit on them or perform a series of highly complex professional wrestling (or wrassling as Goomba calls it) techniques until my playmates are subdued or otherwise more agreeable and acquiescent.

The house where me and Dadda go is bigger than ours, but that's mostly because there isn't much furniture in it. Still, there's plenty of places for me to explore. The first place I explored was the fireplace. I noticed that their fireplace did not have a large piece of cardboard blocking the entrance, nor did it have the magical chain mail curtain that alerts grown-ups that a baybee or toddler is playing near said fireplace. I mean, I may bear a resemblance to Dadda, but I'm not as dumb as I look. I know fire is Ha! and that I'm not supposed to touch. However a fireplace does not perpetually have fire anymore than a juice cup perpetually has juice, though I wish! (More on that later)

So naturally I took the opportunity to explore an area that was usually off-limits. The first thing about going into fireplaces is that even though it's dark, it's deceptively shallow. Believe me when I tell you I was disappointed when I realized that it was not an entrance to a tunnel where fire comes from, but rather a place reserved for fire. So for once the subtleties of language cast aside their mysteries and reveal a less than elegant truth: it was as the name implied a fire-place.  From here on out I will trust language as a source of accuracy. I look forward to meeting the man made of weather (weatherman) and perhaps one day I can work with fire, as I do enjoy firework(s). Then Mamma and Dadda can go eat a moonful of honey (honeymoon) and leave me under some stranger's butt (babysitter)!


The second thing about fireplaces is that they are not designed for exits, at least not unless you are in the form of smoke or Santa Clause. Now I know Dadda can turn into smoke, cause when ever I need a poopie diaper change and Mamma is around, he seems to be in some sort of invisible vaporous form or otherwise disappeared in a cloud of smoke. So when I tried to leave the fireplace, the metal wood cage held fast onto the hem of my pants. I quickly realized my options were limited and it was time to think fast. Once stuck I began wondering how does fire get into a fireplace? Where does fire come from? Would it turn on by itself or does some mystical being from the sky have to sneak it past his boss/father? Someone must've heard me thinking, it sounded like the panicked cries of a toddler, and Dadda came and rescued me.

Prometheus just before his time-out

 The last thing I learned about fireplaces is that the darkness spreads. Now I have a new theory and perhaps later an irrational fear about fireplaces. They are a source of darkness and we put fire in them in order to fight back the darkness. Oddly enough Dadda washed my hands, face and legs and changed my clothes which he later washed as well. Boy am I glad that he did not resort to fire in the first place in order to scare the dark off my pants. So, lesson learned. Tomorrow we will attempt to discover what, exactly is an andiron.

Today I learned things the hard way am a curious little monkey!