When The Going Gets Tough, Aaron Gets Whiny

Last night - after spending about an hour mopping up water from our leaking furnace and making small talk with the lanky, bird-faced repairman - I looked in the mirror and came to the realization that: man, I really am getting old. No joke. Maybe it was the light - but my dry, wrinkled face and collapsed cheeks and dead-eyed reflection brought to mind an aged Martin Landau, circa yesterday. Or, alternatively, the creepy old dude with the grody man-tits from Metallica's Unforgiven video.

I agree, 33 is a little young to be making these kinds of statements, but it was such a shocking image: me. Plus, between settling one child while trying to not wake or upset the other, and cleaning up, and preparing for the next day, and handling the daily aged house emergency, and shoveling out from the latest blizzard - it's hard to find time to do the things that make me feel young. Like watching hockey and drinking a beer and blogging (as I am now). Or reading about what all the cool kids are up to. Or eating animal crackers and colouring.

I guess what I'm trying to say is... I dunno. Whine.

EDIT: this post should not be interpreted as me complaining about my family, but rather, me complaining about everything else. Oh - what's that? You don't come here to read about my grody man-tits? You want cute baby pictures... okay.