The Time Peter Falk Sold Me a Puzzle and a Robot.

Look. The women are mad because the men are waving at the topless mermaids. So true. So so true.

First of all, it's perfectly rad that I stayed up until 1 am completing the 500 piece Where's Waldo Puzzle that I purchased at Chapters the other day in one of those, "OooOOh.... this could be a wonderful family activity" types of stupors. Then I imagined us all sitting around the dining table, laughing and chatting and nobody fighting over pieces or complaining because "HeeEEEee took MYYYyyy MERMAID piece." Well he did. That was MY area.

Plus the puzzle salesman was cute. Not cute in an attractive, "I'd like to sail away to Paris and marry up with him and have boudoir photos taken" way or plaster pictures of him shirtless all over the garage, I'd like to stress to Neil. Cute in a kindly-eccentric-older-gentleman-with-silver-Einstein-hair-and-reading-glasses-on-the-end-of-his-nose-and-a-grandfatherly-giggle-and-a-burgundy-sweater-vest type of way. Like if someone mixed up Ernest Borgnine with Peter Falk. Squeeee! Nevermind.

I'm just saying he'd have been perfectly happy if I cleaned out the storage room under the stairs and put lots of wood chips and fluff down for him to nest in. I'd have named him Ol' Boxcar Scrappy. What I'm saying is that he made me feel guilty for not buying something at the giant corporate book store. Ol' Scrappy needs to make a living. He needs his beans and bread and to be able to subscribe to his favourite shows like The Nature of Things with David Suzuki & Jeopardy. Poor Boxcar Scrappy. He even tried to give me a discount because I saved him from boxes falling on his head in a dramatic book store slide/catch move. Unfortunately, it was Chapters and his boss was apparently 15 and they have no protocol for 'discounts'. Anyway, I'm going back this afternoon to make a trail of froot loops to my car.

I think this moving youtube tribute to Ernest Borgnine truly captures his spirit. *bites fist* Pseudo-Spanish rap music is who Ernest Borgnine truly was (sure he's not dead, but it's okay to get a head start on the tributes) and is not hilariously inappropriate in any way.

Also, when I say Ernest Borgnine, it turns out that I actually mean Victor Borge. LOL. Eccentric old white guys.... they all look the same. So collectible.

Aww!

I got a little off topic. Where was I? Oh yeah- I bought a family-time puzzle and then stayed up half the night doing it myself. I get competitive sometimes is all. But do you know what happened, Readers? DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED? I was working away, in hard focus when Neil skipped along with his hands doing that zippy jazz hand thing and a glazed expression[1] on his face, he looked down and said, "OOoooOH Look!", picked up a puzzle piece out of the box and showed it to me:

OMFG. He found Waldo. UNBELIEVABLE.
(Neil's fingernail. He has nice nails.)

I was so sure it would be me who found Waldo. It's like when you participate in a farmer's market raffle, you have your ticket and you are going over in your mind how you will react when they call your ticket number. You clench it to your chest and think of scenarios. Should I go with a modest, "Thanks... thank you. Gee, I've never won ANYTHING. EVER" or should I just completely freak?

"MEE? OMG. OMG" *jumps onto table*
"HOLY. CRAP." *starts jumping into the crowd*
"I WON! ME!" *Does that lay-on-the-floor-and-walk-in-a-circle-dance*
"THAT LEMON PIE IS MIIIIIIIIIIIINE!!" *Grabs elderly lady by the shoulders and shakes her for a full minute*
*shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake *

"NOT YOURS!! ME! YOU HEAR ME, MRS LAMBERT?? *shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake*

"MINE! BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" *crashes into a table full of pickled carrots and hand sewn bibs because I was running and not looking forward*
"AHahaAHAHHAHAAhahahaHA!" *GASP.....clutches own shoulder and falls to knees*
"Something.... wrong..... so bright...... soooo.........blurry....... tell... Neil...to look...after.... 'Ol......Boxcar... Scrappy....." *Pretend to faint*.

And then after all that planning to win the raffle, Mrs Lambert wins the stupid pie and you smile and hiss at her while you half-heartedly clap. Or you could yell, "OH PULEEEEEEEASE!!... HER????!!!" There are a few ways to play this.

It's like that.

So I made Neil stay and help finish it if he's so clever. Well I said I wanted him to help, but I might have snatched pieces out from under his hand so I could be the impressive-ist. It's a good thing Neil knows to let me put in the last piece because Hoo Boy; I'd never sleep if I didn't get to put in the last piece.

Also, look what else I bought there:

Hehehehehe. It dances.

[1] He didn't REALLY do jazz hands. He just kind of walked over like a testosterone fueled sports gladiator and happened to see Waldo as his eye wandered over the puzzle for 3 nanoseconds while on his way to do something manly. Grrrrrr.