Mother of Invention : #2

Just call me the anti-Edison, because I've once again been inventing:

The Rotatovirus: A genetically-modified variant of the rotavirus (Amateur Geneticist Jul sez: yeah, just slap an extra adenine and thymine on that sucker with a glue stick or somethin'!) which causes the sufferer's bodily waste to be excreted in cheery little curliques. This would add some much-needed levity to the usual crying/puking/shitting/receiving call from daycare ordering you to pick up your diseased vermin IMMEDIATELY/major 'tude from daycare director when informed that vermin will not be retrieved for an hour, despite the fact that vermin's mommy has a fifty-minute train ride home and will not exactly be making a pre-Suburbiaville pit stop for hookers and blow, despite the fact that they might help ease the pain of being chastised by an organization to whom we're funneling enough cash on a monthly basis to pay a team of rogue scientists to covertly stab each cast member of the perversely appealing "Nanny 911" in their broad, squishy asses and create a specially-engineered uber-nurturer FROM THE ADIPOSE TISSUE SAMPLES OBTAINED THEREFROM... wheeze!

The BRAG Diet: A recent Thumbscrews Research Labs innovation, this update on the classic diarrhea-management BRAT diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast) replaces the latter item (poked, slobbered on, screamed at, ground into crevices of high chair but ultimately not consumed by junior lab assistant J.Q. Thumbscrew) with graham crackers. While not as wholesomely neutral as toast, they're much more eagerly accepted, plus produce a pleasant yet disturbing side effect (WARNING: if any of you are considering becoming parents in the future, STOP READING NOW. Or keep reading, then decide, "You know, maybe in lieu of having kids, I'll join that commune in South Dakota devoted to celebrating the ethnobotanical spirit of the acorn squash"). After twenty-four hours on the BRAG regimen, J.Q. began producing diapers which smelled oddly... um, sweet... and... uh... meaty. Kind of - nay, EXACTLY- like a glazed ham. Each time J.Q.'s face flushed and his little brow furrowed, I could almost imagine him determinedly poking another clove into the damned thing.

Sub-Par House Painting: Mr. Thumbscrews and I have spent the past few weekends repainting our house. Unlike our ill-fated bathroom remodel (STILL not entirely complete, although we are once again whizzing indoors - and if that weren't fancy enough, behind a DOOR instead of a plastic tarp!), house-painting has been relatively pleasant. When the weather is nice, we haul J.Q.'s playpen outside and let him join in the fun (tossing toys on the lawn, eating stray leaves, shrieking like the demonic love child of Whitney Houston and an bandsaw while mommy is perched atop a 24-foot extension ladder). While slopping paint on the garage last weekend, we came up with a brilliant business idea: Good Enough Painters.

We reasoned that most people don't WANT a meticulously applied paint job which will look fabulous for years to come. They just want their house to look slightly less crappy for a few weeks so they can unload it on some poor idealistic newlyweds and move to their own 4,000 sq.-foot slice of Upwardly Mobile Meadows. Need a cheap, shoddy paint job? Good Enough Painters will not only serve your needs, we'll spill lacquer thinner on them, too! For a VERY reasonable fee (say, $250 cheaper than your local band of whiny college kids, plus unlimited free diet soda), we'll half-assedly apply a single coat of paint on your home... and your shrubs... and anything else within slopping range. If you're willing to sign a waiver promising not to sue us (or inquire too closely about mysterious lumpy areas and/or missing pet turtles), we're sure you'll agree: there's good, and then there's Good Enough!

Special Bonus Section: Why I Love Mr. Thumbscrews

1. We managed to paint our house together without killing each other (or getting in a heated trim-color dispute and painting "[SPOUSE'S NAME] SUX DIKK!!!" on the side of their car).

2. While painting, we had many interesting and humorous conversations.

3. One of those conversations consisted entirely of speculating what an "Ask Highlander" advice column would be like.

4. Neither one of us had ever seen a "Highlander" movie, and were aware only that they featured beheadings and time travel.

5. Some of our sample "Ask Highlander" questions:

Dear Highlander-

My neighbor and I each have young sons. While her son is a nice enough boy, he has a bad habit of "borrowing" my son's toys without permission! How can I resolve this in a neighborly way?

- Confused in Columbus

Dear Confused-

Cut off their head.

- Highlander

Dear Highlander-

My parents would like me to major in pre-law, but I really feel like my passion is pottery. How can I convince them to let me choose my own path in life?

- To Pot or Not?

Dear Pot-

I agree that it's important to have a passion. For instance, my passion is cutting off heads. However, it's also important to remember that everyone needs to start somewhere. For instance, I began by cutting off the heads of pottery majors.

- Highlander

Dear Highlander-

I am sore afeared of that phantasmagorical Headless Horseman!

- Ichabod Crane

Dear Ich-

Cut off the horse's head.

- Highlander

Dear Highlander-

Is there a Mrs. Highlander?

- Wondering

Dear Wondering -

Well, there USED to be...

- Highlander