For almost a month now, I've been driving around with this instead of a stereo:
|Sound quality: poor. |
Risk of electrocution: moderate to high.
Phillip can do anything around the house by looking up tutorials on YouTube, including removing a malfunctioning car stereo and then going out of town for several weeks on business.
He finally got around to replacing it, and I'm the proud new owner of this.
|My favorite feature: It works.|
We bought the stereo based strictly on price and not for looks, but there are like two dozen options for customizing the display on this thing. My favorite includes spastic lights flashing in every color of the rainbow — I call it "Seizure Mode":
They see me rollin', they hatin'. I totally have the coolest minivan when I go to pick up my kids at soccer practice.
The spring soccer season was supposed to start last week, but there was still snow on the fields from the Hundred-Year Winter (see Chronicles of Narnia for that reference.) We're finally on now.
After his first practice, my son told me that his team name is The Slime Green Evil Lasers, which tells me 3 things:
- His teammates are all boys.
- Each of them is 6 years old.
- The coach did her best to work in suggestions from everybody.
My friend Jessica invited me to hear her sing in concert in a beautiful old church. I mean, could you ask for better acoustics than this?
We had a rough drive home, though. It was a late night and a long drive. I can stay awake until 3 in the morning at home but I'll fall asleep instantly if you put me behind the wheel of a car after dusk. (How old do I need to be before "I don't drive at night" is an acceptable thing for me to say?)
As it was, I was literally slapping myself in the face to stay awake. Even setting the stereo to Seizure Mode, which is really quite disturbing in the dark, wasn't doing it for me.
A few days later, we listened to a handbell choir in another beautiful old church, which looked like this:
I hate it when I try to sound smart explaining something to my kids but realize halfway through that I don't know what I'm talking about.
One them asked me how bells make sound, and I used the phrase "the donger thing" to describe the little hammer inside. (I later Googled it: it's called a clapper. Now go impress your kids with how much you know about the anatomy of a bell.)
I guess some of the participants tricked out their bikes with crazy lights and music; I wasn't there, but I'm picturing it like a miniature Mardi Gras, only later at night and a little more odd.
After they finished, Phillip and his friends walked into a 24-hour diner to grab something to eat. Apparently they didn't look quite like the usual crowd of shift workers and people just getting done clubbing, because the guy at the counter took one look at them and said, "You guys haven't been awake at this hour for 10 years, have you?"
The answer was no. No, they hadn't.
I love that the dark-haired woman behind him is shaking she's trying so hard not to laugh.
Tried out a great time-saving life hack on Thursday night: if you slice up your finger making dinner but you don't want to sit in the emergency room for 3 hours waiting to get stitches, superglue it together and go on your merry way.
Seriously, I was personally advised by a physician to do this. (Just don't sue me if you end up with your finger cemented to your keyboard, which I was slightly nervous about since typing up this post was next on my to-do list after fixing my finger.)
FYI, a $3.29 bottle of Super Glue costs way less than an E.R. copay and we have plenty left over to repair all the things my kids break over the weekend! I'd say that's pretty much the definition of win-win.