I have been asked by Kim and Jason to take part in their Adultitis Escape Plan, a 40-day plan to become more childlike (not childish)
and to reduce stress and prevent dullness, depression and [insert
another word beginning with 'd' here]. Of course I’m gonna do it.

Dreary-ness, that begins with ‘D’.

---

The fortieth task: Congratulations on making it to the end. Your final test is to take tomorrow off. Spend today making any necessary adjustments. Do anything you want, but no work and no chores. Consider it a sick day or at least a “sick of it” day. (Remember, Adultitis is a serious affliction.)

I actually finished the forty days on (or about) the fortieth day – it’s just taken me a while to write them up. My ‘sick-of-it’ day was a Saturday, so I didn’t have any formal work to do anyway (which is good), but our lawn was about three feet high. I decided that I was sick of doing the lawn, and just didn’t do it (or the dishwasher, or washing, or any other chores). I tried to get Jen not to do these things either (they could wait a day).

The only real work-type stuff I did was nappy changing. It’s a bit of work, but hey, leave that for a day, and you’ll really be having problems (plus a screaming two-year-old is not great for relaxing).

I’m currently on holidays from work (due to baby #2 Jesse being born and Jen needing some help), and our lawn needs mowing again. Sick-of-it day take 2? I’m not sure. We’ll see whether I can avoid mowing for another day.

Thanks Kim and Jason for the forty days worth of ideas. I know some of them I’ll keep doing, and some I’ll plan for again. Maybe I’ll try and do the whole forty days again in a few years. We’ll see.

RodeoClown: sick of it (where it is unspecified, boring work).

I have been asked by Kim and Jason to take part in their Adultitis Escape Plan, a 40-day plan to become more childlike (not childish)
and to reduce stress and prevent dullness, depression and [insert
another word beginning with 'd' here]. Of course I’m gonna do it.

Dreary-ness, that begins with ‘D’.

---

The thirty-ninth task: Play a practical joke on someone.

I discovered a little trick about a while ago – if you click your fingers on both sides of someone’s head, the sound seems to come from inside their skull.

This isn’t a very amazing practical joke, but you can give people near-heart attacks with it if they don’t notice you coming. It’s even funnier if there is a bunch of people watching you creep up behind someone in mid-conversation.

I did this at work and nearly killed a guy (sorry Mark).

It has now become kind of my work trademark, and people see if they can catch me out with it too, they even mangage it occasionally.

In other kinda-related news: I once convinced my Nana I was a carpet steam-cleaning salesman and had her on the phone for fifteen minutes trying to convince me that she didn’t need her carpet cleaned. Sorry Nana.

RodeoClown: ha.

I have been asked by Kim and Jason to take part in their Adultitis Escape Plan, a 40-day plan to become more childlike (not childish)
and to reduce stress and prevent dullness, depression and [insert
another word beginning with 'd' here]. Of course I’m gonna do it.

Dreary-ness, that begins with ‘D’.

---

The thirty-eighth task: Make someone a homemade gift to show how much you care about him/her or to thank him/her for a job well done.

I won a competition on Kim and Jason’s podcast, but I didn’t tell Jen about it. Instead, when the prize (a K&J print) arrived, I bought a frame and framed it.

Doesn’t sound very hand-made, does it?

Jen and I have a ‘tradition’ of sticking things (photos, notes and the like) in the backs of frames. When we open the frame up, for whatever reason, a surprise is there waiting.

RodeoClown: will let you draw your own conclusion.

I have been asked by Kim and Jason to take part in their Adultitis Escape Plan, a 40-day plan to become more childlike (not childish)
and to reduce stress and prevent dullness, depression and [insert
another word beginning with 'd' here]. Of course I’m gonna do it.

Dreary-ness, that begins with ‘D’.

---

The thirty-seventh task: Eat or drink something today that brings back childhood memories.

I used to eat tuna noodles two or three times a week when I was still living with my parents, it was all my youngest sister and I cooked. It’s very yummy, and now Mat loves it too. Dinner tonight (and fairly frequently still) was this fantastic dish. Here is the recipe.

Tuna Noodles:

1. Start boiling some water (for the noodle part).

2. Turn on the heat under another saucepan, you want it to be about half-heat.
3. Whack a tablespoon or so of butter in the saucepan and let it melt a little.
4. While the butter is starting to melt, go find some flour and throw about a heaped tablespoon into the butter.
5. Mix these up.
6. Open a can of tuna in brine (NOT oil, springwater would probably work too, but it would taste terrible) – I normally use a 500g can. Toss the entire contents of this can into the mix (yes, with the brine).

7. If the water is boiling, chuck some noodles in there, if not, wait till it is and then do it. I like macaroni best, but this is good with most types of noodle.

8. Mix the sauce, adding milk till it’s runny, but not super wet (I normally just drop a half-cup or so of milk in at a time). If you have any cream or sour-cream in the fridge, throw it in now.
9. Grate some cheese – I normally grate about half a block of cheese, so about half a kilo worth. Chuck the cheese in too, leaving a small amount out to stick on top when it’s finished.
10. Keep adding milk so the sauce is a little runny (but still pretty thick), while the noodles cook.

11. When the noodles are ready, drain them.

12. Get a packet of french-onion soup mix, add some of that in (I find the no-name brands taste much better than the expensive ones for this, they make worse soup, but better condiments ).
13. Add some more cheese.
14. Serve the noodles with sauce, adding some grated cheese on top, along with a bit more soup mix.

14a. If you want to make this a bit more fancy, chuck it in a casserole dish and cover the top with cheese. Stick it under the grill until it goes golden-brown. Then eat it.

RodeoClown: eats this a lot.

I have been asked by Kim and Jason to take part in their Adultitis Escape Plan, a 40-day plan to become more childlike (not childish)
and to reduce stress and prevent dullness, depression and [insert
another word beginning with 'd' here]. Of course I’m gonna do it.

Dreary-ness, that begins with ‘D’.

---

The thirty-sixth task: Accessorize your wardrobe today with a touch of childhood.

My normal work attire consists of a t-shirt (or normal shirt) and pants. Not exactly standard business attire, and the exact type of clothes I wore as a kid. The clothes I wear are pretty much straight from my childhood as it is, so I wasn’t sure what I would do for this task.

Until I visited my parent’s house.

I found a handbag my mum had made, and saw that if I put it on my head, it looked like a cross between a chef’s hat, one of those russian hats, and a beefeater hat. Cool.

I marched around their house for a bit while wearing it, and managed to get everyone there to laugh out loud. Espescially Mat. He fell over laughing.

Kids can wear anything they want and as long as they feel like it’s cool, it’s cool.

I’m cool.

RodeoClown: probably wouldn’t wear this outside.

I have been asked by Kim and Jason to take part in their Adultitis Escape Plan, a 40-day plan to become more childlike (not childish)
and to reduce stress and prevent dullness, depression and [insert
another word beginning with 'd' here]. Of course I’m gonna do it.

Dreary-ness, that begins with ‘D’.

---

The thirty-fifth task: Do something to make the day of a child.

This task was pretty easy to complete. I make Mat’s day just by turning up. He waits for me at the front door when I’m due to get home and I can hear him from a few houses away shouting “Daddy!”. He’ll jump into my arms and proceed to tell me all about how he hurt his finger in the door (we get it Matty, it happened months ago and you are fine)!

Having someone love you this much and showing it in this way is more than I can explain. It’s completely different from the romantic crud thrust upon us around St Valentine’s day, different from the love of a spouse, different from the sex all around us, it is pure and comes from an absolute dependence upon someone else. There’s nothing like it in the world. It’s brought me to tears more than once.

RodeoClown: can’t wait to get home tonight.

I have been asked by Kim and Jason to take part in their Adultitis Escape Plan, a 40-day plan to become more childlike (not childish)
and to reduce stress and prevent dullness, depression and [insert
another word beginning with 'd' here]. Of course I’m gonna do it.

Dreary-ness, that begins with ‘D’.

---

The thirty-fourth task: Think about some of the things you liked to do as a child. Pick one and do it.

I’ve always loved the idea of superheroes, people with superhuman abilities fighting crime and all that sort of thing. The idea of being able to do things that mere mortals could not is an idea that I constantly think about. Which abilities would be the best fit for me, and what would my weaknesses be.

Telekinesis sounds pretty cool, but laser eyes and adamantium claws are also extremely awesome.

So, as you can probably guess, as a child I loved watching superhero cartoons, primarily X-men, which was just so well done. I can see flaws in it now that I’m older, but the fact they killed off (supposedly) one of the main characters, who was even in the opening credits, sealed the deal with me. This wasn’t a cartoon like the others I’ve seen. Also, they got the voices so perfectly right that even seeing live actors play the roles still sounds wrong in my head. Wolverine espescially, that guy just didn’t put a word wrong, bub.

The comics are cool too. I think my favourite (having only read the synopsis) story is this one in Ultimate X-Men (they started afresh without all the baggage from the hundreds of other comics). A child has recently manifested his mutant ability, the ability to kill all living things that come near to him. Wolverine finds him alone in a cave and talks to him, his mutant healing factor keeping him alive near this deadly kid. Ah, just reading that overview makes me feel tingly, it is so well written, and such a sad story. I nearly cried just reading it.

Anyway, after thinking about how cool those comics and cartoons were when I was a kid (an now), I watched a few episodes of X-men:Evolution, the latest cartoon incarnation of these superheroes. Not quite as great as the old cartoons, the new intro music isn’t anywhere near as memorable and the voices don’t quite fit, but still very well done, with some great stories.

RodeoClown: can kill you with his mind.

I have been asked by Kim and Jason to take part in their Adultitis Escape Plan, a 40-day plan to become more childlike (not childish)
and to reduce stress and prevent dullness, depression and [insert
another word beginning with 'd' here]. Of course I’m gonna do it.

Dreary-ness, that begins with ‘D’.

---

The thirty-third task: For no reason at all treat yourself to something out of the ordinary.

Jen met me at Penrith station, and we didn’t have the boy with us, so for no real reason at all I decided we needed to get something nice to drink. Like milkshakes.

Jen got a plain old chocolate milkshake, while I got a Peppermint-Choc-QuakeShake(tm), which is pretty much just a peppermint chocolate bar crushed up and dropped into a green, peppermint flavoured thickshake.

Tasty and filling

RodeoClown: hadn’t tried this before.

I have been asked by Kim and Jason to take part in their Adultitis Escape Plan, a 40-day plan to become more childlike (not childish)
and to reduce stress and prevent dullness, depression and [insert
another word beginning with 'd' here]. Of course I’m gonna do it.

Dreary-ness, that begins with ‘D’.

---

The thirty-second task: Do something that will get you to laugh out-loud (one that puts you in danger of peeing your pants a little bit).

On the train on the way home, I had a small boy (maybe 6) and his mother sit opposite me in a  4-seater.

The young boy was getting a bit bored, as I was doing a crossword and his mum was just sitting there. She didn’t look much older than me.

Anyway, I put my crossword away and just sat there pulling subtle faces at him. He decided that it was appropriate to do the ‘underarm fart’ trick. Repeatedly.

My response was probably the best (for him) and the worst (for his mum, trying to remain serious on a packed train) – I tried not to laugh. Of course this resulted in me cracking up and laughing long and loud along with him.

I thought about joining in myself, but I have never learnt the art of the underarm fart .

RodeoClown: is not convinced that flatulence is a virtue.