I don’t know why, but I’ve started to get in the habit of talking like the crocodile hunter when gathering my kids for bath and bed. I’m actually not that bad at the impersonation either. I stand as if I’m about to go into a wrestling match, spreading out my feet stance, my hands and my eyes wide open. And you just say everything as if it’s the most important things you’ve even said, in the worst Austrian accent you can muster up."NOW WHAT YOU’VE GOT TO REMEMBER, IS THIS IS A DANGEROUS CREATURE WHO FEELS THREATEN BY OUR PRESENCE! I’M A HIGHLY TRAINED PROFESSIONAL SO DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME! I’M GOING TO SLOWLY MOVE AROUND THE LITTLE BUGGER AND – WHOA! CRANKY! HE DIDN’T LIKE THAT MUCH AT ALL! HE ALMOST GOT ME! YOU DON’T WANT TO GET NIPPED BY A LITTLE GUY LIKE THIS, IT JUST MIGHT BE THE LAST THING YOU EVER DO! IT JUST GOES TO SHOW YOU THAT EVEN I CAN’T LET MY GUARD DOWN AROUND THESE GUYS! I’M GOING TO TRY AGAIN TO GAIN CONTROL OF THE SITUATION! WHOA! UH! AH! UH! I’VE GOT HIM, I’VE GOT HIM! NO I’M NOT LETTING YOU GO! WHAO, BE STILL LAD, WE DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU! THERE! HE’S STILL NOW! AND THAT’S HOW YOU TAKE DOWN ONE OF MANS MOST DANGEROUS PREDATORS! WHOO! THAT WAS A HUM-DINGY WASN’T IT?
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