Captains log

Thursday, March 19th, 2020

The time is 10:07 p.m.

Today I have lost my shit 5 times so far, I mean 5 times in the last hour (lets be real). The hostage keeps asking me for snacks as if I am a 24/7 vending machine. Worst part of it all is once I feed said hostage such snack, it turns out she no longer wants that one, que the unleashing of the beast. Tears, snot and snacks are now everywhere. I am seriously considering jumping ship. On the bright side though, she was considerate enough to give the walls of this ship a new polka dot pop of color. I'm not quite sure what I was thinking buying those dot stickers. I have yet again lost another battle to my brutal enemy who has claimed the name of pinterest. It is day 4 of this quarantine, please someone answer my mayday call before the cops get called on me for screaming out the window of this ship.

I was nice today and allowed my hostage some time outside. She once again repaid me with her ever notorious artwork. I provided countless hours of entertainment on facebook asking what people thought it was. I realized upon reading all the answers that my mind is not okay. I mean I knew that a long time ago but really, I post a picture of what appears like a giant penis that my 4 year old drew on my driveway and I get answers like, "Elsa, mermaid, a princess". I get we are all slowly losing our damn minds but what the hell are you all watching to think Elsa looks like a giant penis. As a result of this behavior, the chalk has suddenly disappeared and I have now caught the attention of my neighbor a few doors down. Slow your roll there dude, I can assure you that is not what my mayday call is for.

My hostage is relentless today. I'm pretty convinced while I was sleeping last night she somehow managed to escape her room and find the hidden compartment, filled with every sweet of her dreams. She woke up running in circles and hasn't stopped since. I thought it would be a good idea to let her run in circles outside. Turns out I was yet again wrong. I had no idea my hostage was gifted with the power of tripping over thin air. In an exciting turn of events however I was able to catch that power of hers on video. Don't ask me how many times I have since watched and laughed hysterically at it. Extreme times call for dark humor.

The days are long and the nights are even longer. I've made enough peanut butter & jelly sandwiches this week for dinner that I am starting to have serious concerns that the hostage may turn into one. Each time upon leaving the table her face and hands are red and sticky. Take that back, my furniture is now showing the same signs. No one is safe in this ship.

In an effort to combat the ever present effects and stench of this lock down I decided to give her a bath today. Getting her into the tub counted as a weeks worth of exercise, my hostage may be the size of a elf but she has the strength of an elephant. I discovered my hostage does not like to listen in water, my bathroom floors ultimately paid the price. And I am pretty sure my entire block now knows that water is to stay in the tub at all times, you're welcome. No matter what that rubber ducky may say, and trust me when I say that sly beak of his is very persuasive, water and floors do not go together, I repeat they DO NOT go together.

To end this year, I mean day (has it really only been one day), I turned on the movie of choice for the 4th straight night in a row, the ever infamous Enchanted. I now cannot stop singing those songs, damn you catchy lyrics and enticing damn moves. Unfortunately they had the same effect on the hostage. 20 rounds of freeze dance, 10 rounds of hide & go seek, 5 VERY long games of Uno, 3 bedtime stories, 1 facetime and a partridge in a par tree later, I have finally tamed the hostage to her bed. Well that is of course until she has all the sudden become stricken with the ever dangerous feelings of thirst and hunger (this seems to be turning into a nightly ritual of her). A late night snack, 5 gallons of water later and she is asleep. Her excessive drinking of water may have sunk our boat as well. She hasn't quite learned the important skill of rationing during a voyage, our toilet paper stash can attest to this.

It is now 11:00 p.m, as if this day couldn't get any longer, the captain has been assigned to clean up duty. Yes that is right, straight to the mess instead of her bed. I am pretty sure a hurricane swept through the deck unknowingly at some point today. The couch is in diseray, I have stept on 10 legos and I'm confident there is a foreign object stuck somewhere in my hair. Right about now would be a good time to jump ship. But at lass the room is spotless and rest assured the thing in my hair was a troll fruit-snack, not a spider like I once feared (phew). The hostage must of been doing me a big one saving that one for me later. To bed this captain now goes for give or take 3 hours, until she is awoken once again not to the sweet sounds of birds, but to the non stop calling of her name from the other room, because clearly it is the only name said hostage knows how to say.

Better strap on your sails because tomorrow will be, HA, who am i kidding, tomorrow will be every man for himself. May the winds of strength blow your way tomorrow.

Thursday, March ?, whatever the hell day it is, Captains log complete.

Picture for reference of me and the hostage before she told me she liked her picture better then mine. Don't worry, I got her back by eating all the cookies...kidding (maybe).

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