Pucks, Pads and Piss

The O-Dog had his debut as a goalkeeper for his team today -- a daunting task for a novice skater. The poor little bastard could barely stand up with the goalie pads strapped on. In a rush to get him dressed on time, I forgot to take the last trip to the facilities with him to empty the bladder.

Every three or four games I forget this bit of rink 'housekeeping'. The O-Dog usually skates off the ice, and I rush him to the john to undo the cumbersome equipment and let him take his leak. There was no such respite to be had today.

Short of leaving the goal crease empty, there was not much we could do.

Though it looks like he's giving the "icing" signal, he's actually trying to get his coach's attention. Unfortunately, he'd have to wait. I managed to capture the conversation between the O-Dog and his coach.

Needless to say, he solved his problem on his own before the end of the game, as the coach skates with him to center ice to shake hands with the other team:

"Well, at least he doesn't have to go anymore."

... and he won, 6-5.



Excuse me while I blow the dust off of this blog. This thing's been updated lately about as much as the billboards in Podunk, WV.

This isn't to say life's been uneventful in the Prego household... The O-Dog got into a scrap with one of his kindergarten classmates -- a little snot who's destined for "juvie" -- Mrs. P killed a rabbit, which means there'll soon be another Caeleigh or Kegger running amok on this doomed planet of ours.

... And when I wasn't busy propogating the species, I started a webite to house my editorial cartoons. I also took the liberty of creating this Teenage Jesus character, who'll hopefully make someone chuckle once in a while in one-panel shenanigans. I figure I'm going to hell anyway for any of another number of offenses.

Here's a taste, just in time for Easter:

If anybody cares, sorry for the hiatus. Enjoy your (as Rob of fuquad! likes to quip) Zombie Jesus weekend.