Son starts homework later than promised on Sunday, watches TV, talks about how he might do something later, watches TV, plays computer games, watches TV.
GIRLFRIEND CALLS AT 1:30 P.M.
In a manner of speaking, of course.
After several invites for supper over to the palatial abode of Mr. and Mrs. Homely Escapeons in the past several months, I finally accepted Sunday out of fear of death...or worse.
I go every once in a while at Mrs. Escapeons' insistence, if only to get a chance to hug her closely and to get a kiss, and to be jumped on by resident off-spring Ridley, a holy terror.
And to laugh and joke, of course, with the father and den mother of the household, Homely Escapeons himself, who I see every week or every other week at my place.
Mrs. Escapeons, looking resplendent on a cool but otherwise fine spring day and with recently transformed red hair (she's hot whatever colour, but forget I said that), accepted my hug.
And then she gave me hell for not being at their place since January 1.
She was later proven wrong, because I WAS at their place for a get-together with fellow bloggers Brian the Mennonite, Joyce of the Chronicles of Blunderview and Rey in February.
Still, I had not visited nearly as soon or as often as I should have. I must have been full of gas or something.
And that is a suitable segue into what occurred there over at least part of my several hours there on Sunday.
Mr. and Mrs. Homely Escapeons have a lovely young son, Ridley, who I am very proud to say calls me Uncle Chris.
He is the apple of Mrs. Escapeons' eye, and he and I kid all the time. I would be tempted to say he spits in Mr. Escapeons' eye, but that would be a falsehood.
He's a beautiful child and Mr. Escapeons is a fantastic father, as much as Mrs. Escapeons is every child's dream as a mother.
This is THE poster for a beautiful family, sincerely. Two unbelievable parents nurturing a strong young boy, and three other lovely kids in the picture.
You can only imagine.
But back to Sunday.
When it comes to kids and kidding and young boys and old boys who can't get over it and love that they refuse to grow up, what could be more fun than this?
Note Ridley putting some character hero, found in the garden after a long winter, being the first of several inanimate objects to test out the new toy.
First, I need to say that it was Mrs. Escapeons, not Mr., who broke down and bought this product for Ridley at the local store after scores of shoppers laughed as he laughed playing with it.
(Allie Baby, this one's on you)
OK, that revelation is out there.
Having said that, I had to focus on this because Mr. Escapeons did not want me to report that he spent the entire day drilling millions of holes in his deck to relieve the moisture within.
Anyway, the grape salad, the cheeseburgers, the barbecued farmer's sausage -- they were all fantastic.
Of course the Escapeons' only had Coke, instead of Pepsi, for my rye, but I can take it.
Still, here's a glimpse at parts of the rest of the afternoon...and if you've never had fun with a Whoopee Cushion, then a pox on you and go out and buy one and inject some fun into your life.
Ridley, like any normal young boy who has heard his own fart and laughed hysterically, poses for a picture of him having the power of all powers: the ability to make a similar sound on his own!
Homo Escapeons, who is not nearly as much a fan of bodily function sounds as Ridley or I are, but with his stupid eye protection glasses still on from drilling millions of unnecessary holes in his deck that he refused to let me blog about, plays along...kind of.
Almost, that is, as Ridley forces him to sit on the cushion. Ridley and I laugh. HE ponders his wasted day and sore back, or something.
However, I thought it was a little unfair when Ally Baby brought out some chips, a gigantic rye and COKE, grabbed my point-and-shoot camera and photographed me with my mouth full of chips.
Then, being the best buds for life that we are, soul brothers and saviours of the world and all that, me and Mr. Escapeons exchanged our lifelong show of respect for each other before supper.
Patient who molested young girls at large
A schizophrenic mental-health patient being detained indefinitely for sexually molesting two young Toronto girls six years ago is on the loose after slipping away from his escorts at a Rogers Centre baseball game Tuesday night.
Police issued a public alert for 31-year-old Mylvaganam Vaasuhan, an illegal immigrant and diagnosed pedophile, and voiced concern that without his medication, which he does not have, the fugitive could pose a threat, particularly to children.
Officials at the Whitby Mental Health Centre, where Vaasuhan has been a patient for the past four years, issued a five-paragraph statement saying that Toronto police were alerted "within minutes" of Vaasuhan disappearing.
In 2002, Vaasuhan was found not guilty of sexual assault on grounds of diminished mental capacity and has been held at the centre since 2003, most recently in a minimum-security ward.
He vanished while on a day trip to the Rogers Centre, where the Toronto Blue Jays were playing the Boston Red Sox. Thirteen patients were under the supervision of five staff.
A citizen of Sri Lanka, Vaasuhan is held under authority of the Ontario Review Board, an independent tribunal that oversees all individuals in the province found unfit for trial or not criminally responsible for a crime.
Every person under its jurisdiction is assessed annually. In March of last year, the board concluded that Vaasuhan remains in denial about his past and poses "a significant threat to the safety of the public."
Vaasuhan came to Canada early in 2001 but has "no status" in this country, Immigration Canada told the review board.
His detention stems from an incident in May of that year when he accosted two girls, 8 and 5, at a Toronto playground. He took them both by the hand, hugged them, kissed the younger girl and tried to kiss the other.
He then told them he wanted them to visit what is described in the review board documents as "his dungeon." The older girl's father, however, intervened and chased Vaasuhan away.
Two days later, the children spotted him nearby and he was arrested and charged with sexual assault. In January, 2002, he was found not criminally responsible for his actions and was placed in the sprawling Whitby centre in March 2003.
With a staff of close to 1,000 and an annual budget of about $88-million, the centre dispenses a wide range of psychiatric expertise, and Vaasuhan's prognosis did not appear good.
"Upon admission he presented as aggressive, threatening and unpredictable, especially toward female staff," the board found.
"He is reported to have displayed sexually aggressive behaviours, including grabbing a female staff's breast and groin area. He masturbated openly in the presence of other patients almost every day during the initial two weeks."
There are joyous stories around...
In Winnipeg, an 89-year-old woman whose scooter overturned while she was crossing railway tracks was pulled from the path of an oncoming train by a female hero who was injured herself.
But otherwise, it's mostly been a day of UGH...
What started out as a joke is still a joke, but it's been a lot of work -- and I feel it's so self-centred because all I'm doing is posting pix of myself or of goofy celebrity lookalikes.
Yawn. It's all about me. I so hate that.
But I started it (or was it HE who really started it?) so I'm going to finish it.
And I do thank HE, Anna, Ziggi and Andrea, particularly, for actually emailing to me pix they enhanced in one way or another (I need all the enhancements I can get!!)
To be honest, I'm leaning towards HE's cut-and-paste pic of my head on his son's body in the bathtub. HE's sense of humor is unparallelled and I'm one of his fave targets.
But what I may very well end up doing is simply alternate avatars on a whim, every week.
Thanks for playing along, folks. Barring any late submissions, here are the final entries, including some originals I've used before...