And we’re back like Phoebe’s triplets!
Strangely this is only their second of three appearances. You’d think they’d play a bigger part in the show. But this is FRIENDS™ not PARENTS™ so I suppose it’s to be expected.
Maybe it’s because the writers struggled to keep track of their age? By my reckoning they should be over a year old at this point, yet look about the same age as my five month old.
She’s similarly mobile, (my baby, not Phoebe) having developed a bizarre ability to crawl on her back using her head as an extra limb. Imagine a cross between a caterpillar and the girl from The Exorcist™.
It’s made it especially important to try and keep things clean, and simultaneously a lot harder to keep things clean. I can completely empathise with the state of Monica’s flat after Phoebe babysits the triplets.
It’s some measure of how the experience is changing me; that my first reaction upon seeing Chandler’s toy “Krog, Destroyer of Worlds” was to think “that things got way too many small parts to give to a baby” rather than “oh cool, I want that toy”.
And my parenting instincts are immediately vindicated! When Chandler swallows a piece.
With the business of taking care of the baby, it’s becoming harder to look after our bodies as well as the house.
I haven’t had a shower for the last few days, yet, worryingly, my wife just turned to me and told me I smell good. You might think that’s no cause for concern, but it’s worrying for two reasons. One: loss of sense of smell is a symptom of Covid, and two: the last time she thought I smelt good was when she was pregnant!! I’m not sure which I’d prefer…
We need some sort of test here, but which to choose?
“The One With the Tumble Dryer”
Whilst my wife’s off to get a pregnancy test, Joey’s pretending to own a Porsche™ to attract the ladies. It strikes me I could have done the same with the BMW parked outside our house the past year which has finally being towed. If I’d wanted to attract the sort of women who date drivers that are arseholes.
I suppose I could still try it even with the BMW gone. My wife is certainly getting enough cardboard boxes delivered from Amazon™.
Strangely this is only their second of three appearances. You’d think they’d play a bigger part in the show. But this is FRIENDS™ not PARENTS™ so I suppose it’s to be expected.
Maybe it’s because the writers struggled to keep track of their age? By my reckoning they should be over a year old at this point, yet look about the same age as my five month old.
She’s similarly mobile, (my baby, not Phoebe) having developed a bizarre ability to crawl on her back using her head as an extra limb. Imagine a cross between a caterpillar and the girl from The Exorcist™.
It’s made it especially important to try and keep things clean, and simultaneously a lot harder to keep things clean. I can completely empathise with the state of Monica’s flat after Phoebe babysits the triplets.
It’s some measure of how the experience is changing me; that my first reaction upon seeing Chandler’s toy “Krog, Destroyer of Worlds” was to think “that things got way too many small parts to give to a baby” rather than “oh cool, I want that toy”.
And my parenting instincts are immediately vindicated! When Chandler swallows a piece.
With the business of taking care of the baby, it’s becoming harder to look after our bodies as well as the house.
I haven’t had a shower for the last few days, yet, worryingly, my wife just turned to me and told me I smell good. You might think that’s no cause for concern, but it’s worrying for two reasons. One: loss of sense of smell is a symptom of Covid, and two: the last time she thought I smelt good was when she was pregnant!! I’m not sure which I’d prefer…
We need some sort of test here, but which to choose?
“The One With the Tumble Dryer”
Whilst my wife’s off to get a pregnancy test, Joey’s pretending to own a Porsche™ to attract the ladies. It strikes me I could have done the same with the BMW parked outside our house the past year which has finally being towed. If I’d wanted to attract the sort of women who date drivers that are arseholes.
I suppose I could still try it even with the BMW gone. My wife is certainly getting enough cardboard boxes delivered from Amazon™.
God I hope she’s not “nesting” again.
I really don’t get how Rachel and Ross are struggling to get their wedding annulled here. She finally gets some revenge on him by lying in the court papers, which results in the annulment being rejected. But surely they can still get it on the grounds of non-consummation?? Unless there was a super X-rated scene I’ve missed.
They decide to fulfil Ross’s destiny and opt for the full divorce. Ross’s third divorce is even worse when you consider he’s only on sexual partner number seven. Although I’m not sure if it’s worse he’s on three divorces or that sexual partner number seven was Janice.
I really don’t get how Rachel and Ross are struggling to get their wedding annulled here. She finally gets some revenge on him by lying in the court papers, which results in the annulment being rejected. But surely they can still get it on the grounds of non-consummation?? Unless there was a super X-rated scene I’ve missed.
They decide to fulfil Ross’s destiny and opt for the full divorce. Ross’s third divorce is even worse when you consider he’s only on sexual partner number seven. Although I’m not sure if it’s worse he’s on three divorces or that sexual partner number seven was Janice.
Anyway, the divorce leads to a nice scene where they ruminate over how things may have been different were it not for the winds of fate, both regretting the past, but accepting that they’ve come to where they are with a hug (and a divorce).
It’s a fitting, real, and grown up way for things to end between them, bringing years of on-again, off-again hijinks to a close. Oh boy, I sure hope we can finally move on from Rachel and Ross…
Real Live Sitcom Moment:
I’m not the only one going a bit “Ross” at the moment. My mum has become completely obsessed with getting us a tumble dryer to help with the baby.
Obviously we’re very grateful for the offer, but we measured the space in the kitchen, it was too small, so we told her this and that there wasn’t space anywhere else.
Still she insisted, so she came round, measured the space herself, suggesting we could make the cupboard under the sink smaller, somehow? Handily ignoring that that would mean getting a new sink. And also that we’d already refused her kind offer.
She told us she’d order one anyway. So I calmly explained again we weren’t able to take one as we don’t have space.
But, mother knows best, and she showed up this week with a brand new tumble dryer, insisting we take it.
I refused to entertain this madness, and what followed was my frantic, sixty something year old mother, hauling a (sizeable) tumble dryer out of her car, and carrying it to my front door with all the strength of one of those adrenaline fuelled mums who’s child’s been trapped under a tractor tyre.
Despite my protestations she immediately drove off. And, long story short, I now have a tumble dryer in the back of my car.
I really wasn’t lying about the space. I guess it’ll just have to stay there till we move? In about two years time.
It’s a fitting, real, and grown up way for things to end between them, bringing years of on-again, off-again hijinks to a close. Oh boy, I sure hope we can finally move on from Rachel and Ross…
Real Live Sitcom Moment:
I’m not the only one going a bit “Ross” at the moment. My mum has become completely obsessed with getting us a tumble dryer to help with the baby.
Obviously we’re very grateful for the offer, but we measured the space in the kitchen, it was too small, so we told her this and that there wasn’t space anywhere else.
Still she insisted, so she came round, measured the space herself, suggesting we could make the cupboard under the sink smaller, somehow? Handily ignoring that that would mean getting a new sink. And also that we’d already refused her kind offer.
She told us she’d order one anyway. So I calmly explained again we weren’t able to take one as we don’t have space.
But, mother knows best, and she showed up this week with a brand new tumble dryer, insisting we take it.
I refused to entertain this madness, and what followed was my frantic, sixty something year old mother, hauling a (sizeable) tumble dryer out of her car, and carrying it to my front door with all the strength of one of those adrenaline fuelled mums who’s child’s been trapped under a tractor tyre.
Despite my protestations she immediately drove off. And, long story short, I now have a tumble dryer in the back of my car.
I really wasn’t lying about the space. I guess it’ll just have to stay there till we move? In about two years time.
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