Captain's Log, Day Twelve

The ship keeps sailing but the lack of destination seems to wear on all occupants.

The natives might end up being jack-of-all-trades; they used colored writing instruments for sketching, tickled the ivories, and performed dish duty adequately. I taught the elder native how to determine the quality of scholarly essays. The younger native has been singing "One Day" from _Les Miserable_. We all cope in our own ways.

Capt C and Capt A are able to converse outside the ship consistently, but the natives clearly want to converse with literally anyone who is not related to them.

Capt A ventured to the Nourishment Leo in a rowboat while I captivated the natives by regaling them a tale of my favorite shabbily dressed, absolutely exhausted, and obviously lycanthrope professor.

Your captains will now explore a Crash Landing On You made from the wilds of Korea.

Captain’s Log, Day Eleven

My day started innocuously enough—conversing with other captains, solving puzzles, sailing proudly over calm seas.

Before our noontime fare, the natives and I went on what I’ve heard some tribes describe as a Walk-About. A jolly time was had and we were even gifted some flower bulbs. The natives rejoiced in relocating a Lumbricus terrarium to our forward terrestrial locale.

After the noontime fare was supped, I had many more meetings with captains. There was much to plan and share but some news was rather more disheartening.

In a fit of semi-despair, I chose physical exertion. I scrubbed the deck while the natives frolicked in the waterfall (and subsequent mud) below. When I concluded my labors, both natives required immersive baths. Capt A was instrumental in corralling the muddy scamps.

Your captains fed to and read with the natives. We may even have embarked on a journey to determine whether lycanthropy can survive take tales (spoiler: it can when Capt C is at the helm!).

After the natives deigned to drift off in their hammocks, your captains enjoyed a repast from Magnolia’s Tacos, delivered by an efficient rowboater.

Captain’s Log, Day Ten

The sun glittered in the sky, save for one short rain spell.

Capt C entertained the natives by having them stretch their bodies into various poses. While conversing with scholars and fellow ship captains, your captains forced the natives to explore a summer solstice adventure set in a desert featuring two young, and quite musical, paramours.

After some shenanigans kicking a round and patterned sphere, the natives were assigned to sweep the decks.

While Capt A created grub, the natives danced several jigs and then Capt C read aloud a story about an orphan child who meets an innocent criminal. Can we ever be truly innocent, though? The rats always discover the truth; or else the rats are the truth.

Capt C chose an indulgent bath for her evening entertainment. If you ask the female native, she’ll fabricate a story of hauling buckets of water up the stairs because Capt C is a taskmaster. I declare that it could be quite a fine idea!

Your captains finished their day by exploring how nothing brings a family together like murder. But there’s no need to investigate. I promise. The Captain of America (aka my other Capt A) was present.

Captain’s Log, Day Nine

Hurricane-force winds, in the shape of rascally natives, battered the ship today.

I felt under the weather today, and native-to-native kicking did not raise my energy levels. One native ripped my artwork to shreds when my vision of a rainbow did not match her own.

Capt A buffeted the winds, acted as galley chef, and deserves every huzzah under the sun.

Let’s hope tomorrow brings more sunshine, calmer waters, and friendly natives.

Captain's Log, Day Eight

Stationed in the middle of the sea, the crew saw this middle of the week as a middling day. Sensible.

While your noble captains toiled, the natives investigated how white female saviorism functions in a Nordic setting when said female savior (and her sister and a frozen stack of snowballs and reindeer and the sister's strapping mate) can sing exceedingly well. 

Sir Newton's Third Maw of Motion propelled the natives' lessons today as they experimented with balloons and varying levels of thrust. Sparring with balloons occurred later.

Capt C felt personally victimized by these natives today. The male native, while attempting to stand on his hands, requested that Capt C hold his legs. While she complied, he rudely broke wind. The female native held Capt C's head during a lengthy kiss goodnight and transferred a substantial amount of nose slime to Capt C's philtum.

The quaffing of wine will commence momentarily.

Captain's Log, Day Seven

Today Capt A began to resemble Capt Ahab...

I was locked in my cubicle most of the day discussing moving pictures with scattered scholars. So Capt A, who also had a very busy work schedule, dealt alone with the scallywagging natives for many hours.

In my cubical, I heard shrieks of laughter and running water (extraordinary ships these days!). When I ventured out to the galley, the natives chose to demonstrate their ability to fling themselves off furniture items. During rest time, the natives competed to see who could scream the loudest.

I supervised and enforced chores at the end of the day and one native thought a game of hide-and-seek would be brilliant. She neglected to tell me where she was so I had to lure her out with the promise of Oreos.

The natives did tickle the ivories well and cheerfully eat their grub. While Capt A took them on a walk, a neighboring ship called for the fire brigade! Our neighbor’s ship is sound (thank goodness!) and our natives were elated by the fleet of fire vessels sent.

Poor Capt A needs a nap. Capt C may not even make him put on his device to cease snoring! (Spoiler: She still will.)

Captain's Log, Day Six

Perhaps I’ll start writing these logs on weekend, but those holidays seem to be less tempestuous.

The seas were rough today. The Guv’ner of Our Commonwealth decreed all young natives would be tutored on board rather than rowed to and from shore each day. The captains of this ship expected the news but it still came as a blow to our future productivity. The natives mourned as well.

Capt C and Capt A tried loosening the onboard schedule today, but the loosened ropes only caught the captains ‘round their own necks.

When the natives danced jigs and puzzled, all was well, but anarchy ruled while the captains communicated with scattered scholars and far-flung sailors and landlubbers.

An early bunk time was enforced. How long until these natives become scallywags? Or are they already there?

Captain's Log, Day Five

Ten years ago, Capt A and Capt C embarked on a partnership on the high seas!

The natives volunteered to celebrate, for they erroneously assumed there would be sugarcane, but first we had to navigate a whole day.

Tossing eggs overboard amused the natives.

Playing “The Fishing Game,” though, resulted in the natives biting one another. Attempts to capture for posterity a dramatic puppet show met with failure. Catastrophic, tear-filled failure.

On my watch, communicating with other ships has the same allure as walking the plank. The ocean seems so peaceful, and other ships make me feel helpful and necessary.

Back fully on my ship, post-dinner, we played cheery games and then Capt C was tasked with clipping toenails. It’s a glamorous task, and Capt C womanfully resisted the urge to hack off the limb from the protesting native.

With the natives in their hammocks, Capt C and Capt A will shortly quaff wine, feast on salmon, and smile at each other over the candlelight.

Captain's Log, Day Four

One native awoke me early today to tell me that I looked peaceful in my sleep. Her torture skills are quite advanced.

Luckily, the other native did his chores (and the other native's chores), joyfully performed calculations and word problems, happily drew pictures, and mastered dribbling an orange ball.

Sailors throughout the world required Capt A's sailing knowledge; Capt C juggled natives and communication with a bevy of young scholars.

The natives stretched their bodies with yoga and stretched their minds by watching an Empire Striketh Back.

The sun shone forth and there was much rejoicing and even a wild rumpus in the afternoon, while Capt C scribbled suggestions on how to advance arguments to those young scholars.

Tonight, as I charted our progress by the starlight, the shore seemed so far away. But we have plenty of oranges, and I just hope everyone's ships can come safely to shore soon.

Captain's Log, Day Three

I should have sensed the impending storm. Today started off rather jolly. I slept in a bit later than normal and both natives joined me for snuggles and reading time in bed. In retrospect, I should have never gotten out of my bed.
The natives joined me in a noble quest to ascertain what makes ice melt the quickest. Elaborate charts and sets were created. Patience was taught. In my hubris, I believed the natives were better for having me in their lives.
The day began to unravel. Tasks, whether they be athletics, math, reading, art, or eating, only took 10 minutes apiece, leaving much more time for the natives to lodge complaints or duel with one another.
Schedules conflicted for Capt A and Capt C; at times, both captains were engaged in critical missions that distracted from the reality that the natives now had full control of the ship.
'Twas not all horrid, though. Commander Mo Willems masterfully distracted the natives for 30 minutes. Capt A, out of sheer determination, prepared a delicious feast. Gambling soothed the natives. And sighting familiar faces via technology restored faith and goodwill.
As the end of the day grew near, though, the ice melted. One native admitted to a theft, earlier in the day, of frozen sugar water sticks. Both natives had stored the frozen sticks in the hull, and, in a fantastic twist of logic, refused to account for melting. (Yes, even though our quest earlier in the day had focused on what maketh ice melt quickest!) Capt C, stymied by the natives’ audacity, scrubbed the hull as an exercise in anger management; the slightly calmer Capt A corralled the natives into their sleeping quarters.
All rations that have the slightest amount of sugarcane in them shall be hidden, forevermore, from the natives. Your captains are feasting on treats from the land of Samoa and PBPatty (formerly the Republic of TagALong).
My final thought: The days stretch on to infinity, and I fear the natives are only gaining strength.
#parentinginthetimeofcoronavirus

Captain’s Log, Day Two

I do not understand the natives’ sense of time. One native now claims to be “almost a teenager.” Yet both natives awaken at the dawning of the new day, which seems unlikely for a teen.
There was anarchy afoot early in the day. The natives resisted swabbing belowdecks. Capt C narrowly avoided a full mutiny, and the subsequent science lesson brought sunshine back into their lives. Recess, math, lunch, and mindfulness apparently tired them because both took a long hammock nap! (Score uninterrupted Captain work time!
Post-nap writing, reading, and piano led to a track training session. The natives were very chatty at dinner.
The day ended with a viewing of some creatures who “bounced here and there and everywhere.” Their energy inspired one native to resist the sweet call of her hammock. The captains fully deserved their Guinness and apple ale.
#parentinginthetimeofcoronavirus

Captain's Log, Day One

The natives seemed eerily composed. They mostly followed a schedule of chores, science time, snack, recess, creative time, mindfulness, and lunch. During rest time, though, rebellion was in the air. One native roosted under her brother’s bed, for unknown reasons.
Reading, writing, and yoga met mixed results.
After afternoon recess, while dinner was being fixed, the natives rejoiced in 15 minutes of screen time. Dinner, followed by some gambling, led by Capt A, gave a false sense of control. While readying for bed, a dress ended up in the toilet.
Despite setbacks, Capt C and Capt A managed 5 classes, 1 part time job, and 1 full time job while wrangling natives, so they enjoyed fermented grapes while doing laundry.
Until tomorrow...#parentinginthetimeofcoronavirus