Captain Crankypants

The one thing adult life has going for it so far is that at least Sunday night no longer means sitting at the computer, blank document on screen with loads more that need to be written, eyes glazed and affixed to the Sunday night football game that you don’t actually care about, and Monday marching ever closer. Now I’ll proofread that sentance.

See, it should say “one of the many” things instead of making it sound like there is just one thing. That’s what Sunday does to me now. Makes me cranky. Somehow a weekend where I did absolutely nothing feels as though I was absolutely sapped of all my energy. Michelle was a way this weekend and I can’t even properly welcome her home. It’s like an alter ego, this guy known as Captain Crankypants.

Instead of his usual robustly healthy self Captain Crankypants complains about his ears constantly. The fullish sensation packed in his skull making him feel a lttle naseous and a touch dizzy making his Cranky powers even stronger. Able to grump high buildings in a single gruff growl. Angrily Captain Crankypants will try to complete one of the chores he was going to do this weekend in the waning moments his time off. The dryer will be broken, however, and the Cranky will grow stronger still. He will let useless arguments about why the Pop Tarts were bought two packs strong drag on, as though a point can be made about the economics of commercial pastry purchasing. He will pout in the bed in he other room. Why is he cranky, you ask. He doesn’t know, and that makes him well, cranky.

He is a powerful super villain, and he needs to go to bed.