Yesterday morning, my dad decided weâ€™re “looking too white,” so he hauled us outside to supposedly take a walk in the yard and freshen up on our tan (what tan? I was born white. LOL) so we can look ethnic again. Haha. Now, “taking a walk in the yard” is a phrase that seriously fills us with fear, because we never end up just walking. You gotta understand, we have a half-acre lot, and our house is only a little part of it. The rest is occupied with a courtyard and a lawn and fruit trees and walkways and gardens and eucalyptus trees and things. It’s beautiful though, masha’Allah, but tons of work to maintain. When I was really little, I figured heaven must look kinda like our yard. lol. So anywayz, when my dad actually succeeds in getting us outside, he puts us to work in the yard. Yesterday, for example, i pulled weeds for ever. :-p Itâ€™s kinda like how Sana despises cleaning bathrooms: THATâ€™S how much I hate working in the yard. Last year, I went through this whole, hilarious phase where I absolutely LOVED pulling weeds. hehe. The way I figured it, if I had to do something outside, it might as well be pulling weeds, which is such a mindless, mind-numbing task. :-p And my dad sure does take the opportunity to remind me as often as he can about how much i “loooove pulling weeds, remember??” So yesterday, my job was to pull weeds in the front garden. And i did a mighty nice job, if i do say so myself. Actually, i don’t have to say it anywayz, cuz my dad stopped by when i was almost done and exclaimed, “Yasminay, you just made my day! That looks so beautiful, and you know how much i love beautiful things! I could just lay a bed out here now and sleep right in this garden!” LOL. My daddy is a silly man, what can i say. But it kinda sucks, cuz today my hands and wrists are aching, and i kept running into the thorny rose bushes yesterday while pulling weeds, so my hands are covered with nicks and cuts. Any action involving clenching and unclenching my hands makes them hurt, so it’s hard to grasp stuff; plus, my wrists hurt hecka bad too. Sheesh. My dad gave me a sympathetic look this morning when i kept wincing at the pain, but then remarked, “Maybe you should work outside more often; then your hands would be used to it.” Ehhhh, riiiiiiiight, Daddy. :-p
I had a hilarious conversation with a friend earlier about how no one ever says anything to his dad for NOT dressing up cuz they’re all afraid of him. haha. Sounds kinda like my dad right there. lol. All my little cousins love him, but the older ones are hecka intimidated. Not to mention the adults. It’s soooo funny! And then you see him at home, and he’s all wandering around alternately singing Beatles and Pukhto songs at the top of his lungs, and it’s just crazy…then I’m always wondering, People are scared of someone this silly?? lol. But my dad actually dresses up pretty often. Not too dressy, but still all stylin’. haha. He’s always wearing nice dress slacks and some shirt or other that Shereen and I always help him pick out, cuz if we didn’t, he’d be wearing white dress shirts all the damn time. And I’m like, no no no, white is BORING! lol. So I always make him go with something else. Like, blue. (ok yeah, blue has its moments. lol) There are times though, like the weekends especially, when he just looks like a BUM. Like, we’ll all have breakfast together, and after that he’ll take his cup of coffee and go outside to “take a walk in the yard and sing to all his little babies” (the flowers, not us. Usually he means the geraniums. My daddy-o has an OBSESSION with geraniums, I swear. It’s getting out of control! haha). So this’ll be like 10 o’clock in the morning or something, and he’ll be all wandering around outside in his pajamas with his cup of coffee, and then he ends up spending nearly the whole day out there (I’m serious!), planting flowers and doing all this pruning and all kinds of random stuff. All the while still wearing his pajamas. It’s hilarious. lol. And once in a while I’ll look outside, and he’ll be standing there in his freakin’ pajamas with his 4970934750th cup of coffee, talking to the neighbors, and I’m like, ohhh my God! lol. The funniest thing is, neither he nor the neighbors ever seem to care about the pajamas. It’s all normal, I guess. lol. So yeah, that’s my dad. Maybe that’s where I get the weirdness from. lol. Not that he would ever admit it. lol.
Anywayz, yesterday was fun cuz I woke up at noon. Had a yummyyyy lunch. Pulled lotsa weeds and made my Daddy’s day. lol. Nasser mowed the lawn, and it looks goooood. Three of Somayya’s brother came down (but she opted to stay at home, that freak of nature child. You suck!), and Daddy put 2 of them to work in the yard (muahahahaha!!) while the oldest one fiddled around with our computers. My dad now has Windows XP on his PC (i know, i know, we’re sooo behind the times), and the cousins are slowly convincing my dad to invest in DSL. Time to lose the dial-up connection, yo. Yeee-uuuhhh. :-D In the evening, Daddy waved Ummy out of the kitchen and set to work making chapli kabob (a weekly tradition with him), with the help of the same 2 assistants. LOL. Man, Shaker is a “burger-builder” extraordinaire. And Nazer is mighty handy with the spatula too. ;) Yaser just fixes computers and pretends he knows everything. And Zaker was at home, the silly boy. He always makes me laugh. Speaking of people who make me laugh, though, i’m having Somayya-withdrawals. My partner-in-crime is gone missing. hahahah. So anywayz, it was major fun. Shaker always wants to instigate a boxing match with me whenever i see him. And considering that this 14-year-old is about a foot taller than me and 50 pounds heavier, i’m like, ehhh stay away, yo! Actually, being the crazy child i am, i laugh and try to punch him back, but it’s like hitting a rock. haha. So that was my day. THE END.
p.s. Someone posted the link to a really interesting article on my tagboard earlier today. It’s called, “Iraq: Victims Without a Voice.” Go read. Oh, and i’ve been busy checking out more stuff on The Guardian website today. There’s some more speculation about the Iraqi blogger, Salam Pax. Read some of his blog entries as posted by The Guardian, or just go check out the blog itself.