Tag: Dad

is Santa a Lady?

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is Santa a Lady?.

via is Santa a Lady?.

Is Santa a lady??? I have often pondered this very question! I mean the organizational skills alone are mind numbing!  There is not a man alive that can hold a candle to Santa when it comes to logistics.  Yet there are several ladies I know who could handle it quite well, all while still holding a second career, writing a thesis for their Masters degree and schooling their children on homework!  Could it possibly be the woman in red is standing behind the man running everything quietly, out of the spotlight, using the “its a mans world” theory to sell the notion of masculinity when it comes to delivering toys to all the good little girls and boys???  HHHMMMMM???

Anyways that is my question but please check out this blog (click on “is Santa a lady?”link above)  as I found it to be quite humorous.  Then ask yourself, could the man in red, really be the woman in red? Or is it a front?

DR. FRO-YO is in….

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As a parent my world revolves around our children. They bring to our lives purpose and a fulfillment that just can’t be achieved by denying their existence. No really you can deny they’re yours all you want but try leaving Chucky Cheese unnoticed when one of them yells; Hey dad where ya going? That damn family hand stamp you received when you arrived ties you right back to the little darlings! Anyways I only tried it once, no harm no foul right?

Yep those little ones fill our days with delight! From the moment their sweet little angelic eyes open in the morning, birds begin to sing! They’ll float down to breakfast as ifimages-13 Miss Mary Poppins herself was their nanny! Poise, confidence, smarts they are perfect and all yours. Every day is greeted with excitement because you’re able to cherish hundreds of precious moments with these wondrous gifts from god!

Often times in the morning I am heard across the neighborhood hollering out our back door as they skip off to school, backpacks in hand, looking sharp dressed in their finest knickers; Have a great day children and remember daddy loves yoouuuu!! They always stop, hold hands and in unison shout: We love you to daddy!!!! Sweet visualization huh?

Parenting is a calling, you don’t realize how important it is until it happens to you! Becoming a parent brings together all the unknowns about your existence, solidifying them in one complete, mind altering, unrelenting realization.

At some point you are going to need a drink!

Because after that Disney fantasy world of morning departure, as the door closes and you’re left all alone with nothing but your thoughts, life becomes very clear. You may need a drink! It starts out harmless enough; the house is yours so you figure knocking out a few chores such as laundry sounds like a good idea. I mean you are the maid right? So images-17you grab a cup of coffee, haul a few hampers, wash a few loads it all sounds so easy? But oh no my friend how wrong you are because it’s then and only then you see the light! For example, apparently all four of my children were performing on America’s got talent last night! How do I know? Because every single one of them went through at least three wardrobe changes yesterday leaving two of them scattered across the bathroom, bedroom and hallway floors! Only someone who performs on stage needs that many wardrobe changes to get through the day right? The laundry basket is filled with an equal amount of clothing exchanges from the previous three days as well and by the time it has been transferred to the basement it appears the bottom of the basket is filled with clothes I washed and folded on Friday of last week! Those clothes now smell awful because apparently the littlest one peed the bed and has thrown the urine soaked clothing on top of the aforementioned clean clothes! Feeling the need yet?

Did I mention the bathroom? Between cleaning up piss scattered about the base of the images-6toilet and poop that has made its way miraculously down the side of the bowl. (Serious skill or a disturbing problem) There is an endless river of shampoo and body gel making its way around every part of our bathroom except (judging by quantity only) onto the filthy bodies of my pristine little gems! Thirsty for a snort?

As I feel happiness slowly draining from my body like the last remaining droplets of coffee from the pot downstairs, I decide grabbing some chocolate will harden my resolve and strengthen my nerves.  One problem, it’s all gone!  I don’t know when or where but it’s gone all gone!  Hands shaking, teeth grinding, creating new curse words, the laundry is dragged to the basement and tossed into the machine, our bathrooms are cleaned to perfection,  the floor is swept, mopped and left to dry while I burn time folding clothes. I call it “burning” time because it’s not what I want to do it’s what I have to do so I prefer to burn it with my hatred!! After an hour I start missing my children again (I know freaking crazy huh?).  The bottle on the counter doesn’t seem quite as tempting anymore, yet Jack is always a gentlemen and he remains smooth as silk in his delivery.

The day trots’ on with more highs and lows; high when I find a bedroom closet cleaned, low when I find all my missing chocolate wrappers under a bed, high when finding a note left behind by one of them saying how much they love me, low when realizing all the words are spelled backwards, leaving me worrying about his education! High while realizing they are all taking fairly good care of their animals a very big responsibility, low when reaching into a box of Hot Pockets to find it has been placed back into the freezer empty!  AARRRGGGHHHHH! Getting thirsty again…

By the time our children are let out of school my emotions have traveled a gambit of expressions and yet even though exhaustion is ruling my body, and sleep would be a welcome sight even for just a few minutes, I pull my boot straps up, put on a smile and rush off to gather them for the return ride home.  A trip into town takes but 15 minutes, just enough time to sing a few songs on the radio, down a beer and let the Percocet take hold! Just kidding!!! Don’t get uptight now my belligerent story has almost concluded!

images-18While waiting in the hallways I take note of many other children, some are sweet as pie, others in need of a good old-fashioned ————-! (You fill in the blank! Really anything you want! Time out, walk in the park, smack on the tush, trophy for being the most obnoxious, whatever works for you! This is the kinder gentler, stranger society we occupy so live it up!)

My conclusion is this; our children will always be sweet little angels, the stuff Disney movies are made of, no matter what anyone else says!  They could do whatever they wanted and dad would stand behind them all the way! Ok except for getting arrested and maybe starting a fight, yeah that’s never good, also selling drugs would be a hard one to back all the way unless junior is gonna hook a father up with some sweet green!

I digress….  So my children walk up, hugs are given and no longer do I feel the stress of a long day!  Life is ok; all is right with the world.  We climb into the truck and before we leave the parking lot three of them are fighting in the back seat, one is crying two are punching each other all while words such as butthead and fart face are thrown about as frequently as a bug hitting the windshield!  So with the calmness of a school librarian Unknown-2(they still have those don’t they?)  the truck is turned north, our home is no longer an approved destination for I have determined they (our children)are feeling the very same stresses I feel  day after day.  Their stress revolves around working hard, strengthening the farthest reaches of their little brains during a long day of school! So it would make sense for them to release stress exactly the same way dad does, through spastic, angered verbal retaliation.  Of course mine is directed at no one because I am usually home alone. A feeling of daily stress that just can’t be contained from sitting in ones room for being grumpy.  Since children can’t drink (not legally anyways) it’s on to the next best thing! Pulling into the Frozen yogurt shop a hearty FRO-YO chant bellows comes from the back seat, sharing the very same exuberance a dock worker feels when his ride home at the end of a long day stops at the local pub for a pint… or two….

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Everyone pours out of the truck, piles into the store, flavors are picked, toppings are served and we take our little pint-sized treasures out to the tables in the shade.  Not a word is spoken, peace and harmony exists, the only sounds to be heard are that of; thanks dad and mmmmmmmmmm!  Ok except for my littlest who between spoonfuls is conducting an imaginary orchestra with his spoon! Holy cow people are staring at him….. Cooollll…… Climbing back into the truck all is right with the world.  They have de-stressed, genuine conversation is at the forefront of our ride home.  We are a communicating caring family once again!  All because of a little sweet FRO-YO.

At home they are playing joyfully in the backyard. Chores completed with smiles and homework finished. I pray they have the ability to stay in Disney/Happiest place in the world mode a little while longer; I’d like their mother to enjoy some of this FRO-YO high as well?

Now where did I put my old friend Jack?

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(this story is sarcasm based, no alcohol, children, parents or animals were harmed in the telling of this story)

Somewhere in the Halls of Justice…..

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A tub of chocolate chip cookie dough has been discovered open.  Now this is no giant revelation in the grand scheme of things around Betty’s house, but this time is a bit different. You see lately there has been a sudden rash of midnight food thefts.  Of course one might wonder if it’s the result of us starving our children to the point of  emaciation? After all they are always screaming about how they are starving, there is nothing to eat, they are dying! Hypochondriacs! Maybe it’s because our food stamps ran out this month after I traded them for cash to a local street entrepreneur so I could score some vodka and cigarettes? Don’t judge me a guys got to do what a guys got to do right?

But sadly no, Betty and spouse have stocked the home quite well with food for all.  Three squares a day and all the snacks one could handle. Not even the prison commissary has more crap than Betty’s Basement for snacking and munching.  But what makes this crime of chocolate chip passion so incredulous is the fact we have been mired in a swamp of lying lately.  Several attempts have been made through modern-day practices to arrive at the truth, trick questioning, good parent bad parent role play, single chair in the room hot spot light grilling, even a little military action has been used, but alas the waterboarding failed miserably. Thank God for AFLAC! Yet no matter what we tried the famed culprit “Mr. I don’t know” is usually to blame! What to do, what to do??

On this particular occasion while staring at the evidence a moment of brilliance overcame me! Sheer genius really as too many nights of late night crime TV took over, guiding me through a fair and just investigation.

Calmly calling the main accused subject to the front of the room I leaned down and gave the suspect every opportunity to answer me truthfully the first time.  Each time I asked, the suspect stood their ground claiming no knowledge of a crime committed.  Finally I held the subjects hand, slowly pulling the forefinger out straight.

Once the hand was firmly in my grasp over the bucket of sugary goodness with the forefinger pointed out straight I said; (Law and Order moment here) My dear, this bucket of chocolate chip cookie dough has been picked out by a single solitary finger.  The great thing about fingers is no two are the same.  Therefore if I place this finger inside this bucket will it match the marks made by the thief? She calmly stated no, stood her ground while beginning to look very confused.

Slowly lowering her hand I said; this is your last chance.  Her brow furrowed, her resolve was set. Down went the hand and behold the finger mark was a perfect fit!

Now one could point the opposed bony finger of justice at the accused and scream GUILTY! But that’s not how Betty rolls.  In a smooth almost sweet voice I asked the accused to step back, explained it was a perfect fit but in the interest of justice we would call in the other accused suspect to appear before our Kangaroo court.  The call was made and suspect number two was brought downstairs and placed in front of suspect number one.  Now suspect number two doesn’t have quite the moxy suspect number one carries.  So there was an instant look of guilt upon his reddening cheeks.  He tried his best poker face with a loud; whats up dad? (insert nervous laughter here)

The same investigative speech was provided for suspect number two and when he recognized the significance of important scientific data such as “no two fingers leaving the same mark in cookie dough” the confession spewed forth like that of man carrying heavy guilt for some time!  No splayed out finger, no hand-held over the tub, no look of shame needed! Just the fear of scientific data, fact, serious CSI shit, to break his silence and expose a true culprit.  The crime had been solved or so it seemed, but as with any criminal facing significant prison time this young lad was no different from any other! He started singing and he sang like a freaking canary, throwing suspect number one under the bus in the process.  Hearing the overwhelming load of evidence thrown her way she lowered her shoulders and confessed to it all.  The facts of the case had been revealed, two culprits one definitive finger match and all with a little knowledge learned from watching to many Law and Order episodes late at night.

The investigating officers report read as such:

On the night of 25 November 2012, One 8-year-old female suspect made her way into the family’s basement, avoiding detection from the parental units through stealth measures developed over an unspecified period of time.  The female suspect finding the Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough tub in the main downstairs refrigerator carefull removed a tool from the adjoining refrigerator intentionally piercing the cellophane cover, exposing the dough goodness held inside.  Using her fingers many samples were had/stolen until the sounds of people moving her direction stopped her from enjoying more of the holiday treat. She retreated through the shadows into her room retiring for the night.  Sometime later in the evening suspect number two seeing the lid had in fact been opened and fully knowing who the main culprit may have been felt as though the perfect crime would be committed by helping himself to the same sugary goodness then leave suspect number one taking the fall for the crime. A thorough investigation was held, both suspects were apprehended and suitable punishments were doled out through the use of plea bargaining. 

Case closed.

Now if only I can use this late night psychological shit to figure out who is stealing my underwear and socks….

Black Friday is just the Beginning…

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Black Friday is just the beginning!

Without so much as a decent burial to Thanksgiving the nations marketing firms have once again proceeded with a full frontal assault upon your financial statement or loss thereof.

Christmas past

As a child I would count down the days towards Thanksgiving (purely due to my mass enjoyment of gorging delicious holiday food), then the day after would begin another count down towards Christmas.  Lying in bed at night thinking 29 more days, then 28, then 27 and so on until Christmas Eve was upon me! During this period I looked forward to Christmas activities at school, Church, Christmas lights hung around the town square, cold wet weather, Christmas music, all the holiday specials (Rudolph, Frosty,  the Grinch and so on) and yes even a little Christmas shopping.  You see when I became a little older my mother would drop me off in town to spend some time Christmas shopping on my own.  It was fun, made me feel as though I was becoming an adult and there was always just enough money left over for a one pound bag of M&M’s that inevitably made it home to my sock drawer where I would gleefully shove handfuls into my face when no one was around! Christmas was fun, easy and all within the context of roughly 30 days.

The marketing guru’s of the time, while still looking to vie for every penny you held, hoping to help adjust their year-end statements; held to Christmas being a sacred, specified period of time.  Values were still present and accounted for; family was still a number one priority!

Christmas Present

Today my children can’t wait for Christmas! Which in today’s  high stress, high pressure environment astounds me! They chomp at the bit in anticipation of that glorious morning when their year-end performance reports come back.

Dad: Hey little Peter wont you step into my office? 

Peter: Sure

Dad: For this year end review which qualifies your interests (Santa’s wish list) to be forwarded upstairs, I am trying to get a feel for how you spend your day … so, if you would, would you walk me through a typical day, for you? 

Peter: Yeah. 

Dad: Great. 

Peter: Well, I generally wake up at least fifteen minutes late, ah, I use the side door – that way mom can’t see me, heh heh – and, uh, after that I just sorta space out for about an hour. 

Dad: Da-uh? Space out? 

Peter: Yeah, I just stare at the ground outside; but it looks like I’m working. I do that for probably another hour after lunch, too. I’d say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work

(In case you didn’t notice that was an obscure “Office Space” reference)

But those 15 minutes of actual work pay off as little Peters Santa’s list makes the grade and is pushed up the ladder to corporate! Santa will be placing little Peter on the nice list today. 

Today Christmas is filled with pressure! Pressure brought to you courtesy of the retail industry! It’s not enough to have a wonderful Christmas surrounded by family and friends. It’s not enough that you live on a fixed a budget and are doing the very best you can with what you have.  It’s not enough to be thankful for your health, a roof over your head, well adjusted children earning a great education. It is not enough; it’s not enough it’s just not enough! No! During Christmas you are supposed to stand in long lines, maxing out every credit card, singing Christmas carols, sucking a Starbucks while getting shoved to floor during a Black Friday event. Buy, Buy, and Buy! Who cares what the economy is doing! Just ask the car industry! Buy a Lexus! Who cares that you are on welfare! Purchase a 52 inch TV that you can never pay for! Who cares that your family is now down to one income! Its Christmas Damn it and for it to the very best Christmas ever you need to outspend, outlast, and overcome all financial obstacles for people to still love you!  Just ask the talking navigation system in the Jarrod commercials.

What exactly is the message most marketing agencies are passing along today? Holiday cheer? Uh no. Betterment of mankind? Uh no. Helping your fellow man? Uh no. Nope its nothing more than buy, buy, buy! My littlest reminded me yesterday that Black Friday is the only true savings day! It seems that it’s perfect for all parents to score really cool toys! Who are ad executives speaking to again?

Apparently Christmas is so all encompassing within our lives that it needs to be celebrated starting in October! Visited a Wal-Mart lately?  That’s right, over by the gardening section; nothing says chrysanthemum like a new set of Christmas lights and a blow up Santa! Scare the Halloween right out of Halloween by spending Christmas dollars now! Santa knows how to make Halloween its bitch!

(Actual picture taken at a Wal-Mart in October)

The phrase “holiday season” has been stretched to its useful limit when Target starts advertising the “holidays” during the World Series!  Snowflakes, Christmas Presents, couples hand in hand walking blissfully through the snow as a big white dog with a target on his eye (presumably an injury from the war) strolls down main street spreading Holiday cheer that can only be obtained after spending all of your hard earned money at Target! Also from watching this commercial, when you shop at Target in the snowy regions you don’t get wet or have a runny nose! Just an observation.

Back to Black Friday.  Marketing genius I tell you!  Not only have you stressed every shop-o-holic to the limit by announcing this day of spending infamy, but ad executives have created a self generating existence that will go generation after generation! No longer, on the day after Thanksgiving will the sound of father bellowing down the hallway; let’s all climb in the mini-van and go get the Christmas tree, be heard! Or the family tradition of pulling Christmas boxes from storage to decorate the house! Nope the marketing gods have ensured that over time, one mom will take her kids to Black Friday, a couple of moms friends will do the same, then their children will start participating in this yearly purchasing orgy, before long they will tell two friends, then they will tell two friends and so on and so on… Eventually they all will succumb to this newly created family tradition of unbridled consumerism on the day after Thanksgiving! Death to the old Christmas period, birth of a new! Maybe it shouldn’t be called Christmas anymore, I mean it is after all a religious undertone and we all know how well that flies these days.  Maybe we should call it 30 days of debt? National pay down the nation’s debt day? Giving day? Giftmas?

Yeah Giftmas! GIFTMAS, that’s the ticket!

Christmas Failure- ahem! I mean Future!

I can see it now, no longer does our country celebrate the birth of Christ, and no longer do we recognize three wise men bearing gifts for the newborn son. Our Nation, an enlightened nation now only recognizes Giftmas. A day that every faith, and culture and stand behind! Giftmas is 90 days of advertising, 14 days of Black Friday style shopping, 10 days of ridiculously low internet specials, 7 days of no credit report checked credit card offerings and two days of amnesty for people who are a little behind in their credit card payments but want to apply for more credit.

The new Giftmas will still be held on the same day as Christmas, Santa will remain as patron saint of gifting, he mastered this thing a couple a hundred years ago when as little old Saint Nic he left shoes outside the windows of those who had none! Talk about a long range growth plan! So let’s not mess with a good thing, all though I am pretty sure that once Giftmas has gone corporate the elves will unionize and then pension costs will drive up prices, but hey that’s in the future and if the present has taught us anything it’s that pension money left in the right hands is always the culprit of greed, dishonesty and theft. Which means it will be dealt with long after it’s too late.

No more Christmas trees in the household, there will instead be a Giftmas stand! That’s right a 6 foot, 8 foot or 12 foot stand with multiple levels and platforms to place your gifts upon or under.  The Giftmas stand will be lit from every angle with computerized lighting.  It will spin 360 degrees to show off every side, so even the smallest of presents look great!  And best of all its fire safe! No more worrying about a tree going up in the middle of the night!

Want to place lights on your house to celebrate the season! Great! Advertisers will do it for you! All vying for the chance to display through electronics their personal holiday message designed just for your neighborhood! Live in a gated neighborhood? Great! An electronic, flashing Mercedes Benz ad will now be running along your roof line   Live in the country? Tractor Supply will be dancing in holiday spirit as it advertises this week’s feed specials along your fence! Genius really, the same effect as Christmas lights but with a message!

The morning of Giftmas should remain relatively the same as Christmas used too.  Wake up; tear through presents then lay in a gift induced coma after eating breakfast and watching “A Christmas Story” to help you remember the good old days.  In a few hours the whole family arrives and more gifting carnage ensues! See it really isn’t all that different! No more silly religion to get in the way, no more thanking God for all that has been provided, no more needing to pray at dinner.  Just good old fashioned greedy consumerism to hold dear for generations!

Yes sir, Giftmas will ring true in the hearts and minds of every little boy and girl! Sleigh bells ring, are ya listening, it’s the UPS truck bringing your Amazon order! In the lane snow is glistening, that’s just low blood sugar! A beautiful sight, the shopping’s just right, walking through a Macy’s once again!

Happy Black Friday Shopping!!!

The Future is yours!

 

Skyrockets in flight, Thanksgiving delight?

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Skyrockets in flight, thanksgiving delight, ohhhh oh thanksgiving delight!

Gonna find me a turkey, gonna rub it right
gonna cook me some afternoon delight.
My motto’s always been; when its right, it’s right.
Not gonna wait until the middle of a cold dark night.
Everything’s a little clearer in the light of day.
Thanksgiving turkey late at night is gonna be dry anyways.

Sky rockets in flight; Thanksgiving delight. Ohhh oh Thanksgiving delight.

Thinking’ of it is workin’ up my appetite
looking forward to a little thanksgiving delight.
Rubbin’ sticks and stones together makes the sparks ingite
and the thought of smokin’ you just seems so right.

Sky rockets in flight. Thanksgiving delight. Ohhh oh Thanksgiving delight.

Started out this morning feeling so uptight
Mashed potatoes and gravy I cannot wait to bite
Drumsticks and thighs I will soon be nibbling
a little afternoon delight.

Sky rockets in flight. thanksgiving delight. Ohhh oh thanksgiving delight.

Please be waiting for me baby when I come around.

A tryptophan coma will not keep me down
More giblets and gravy before the sun goes down.

Sky rockets in flight. Thanksgiving delight. Ohhh oh thanksgiving delight.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE…..

Chocolate

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CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE 

Hello everyone: My name is Betty and I am a choco-holic!

Everyone: HELLO BETTY

Betty: Its been six long days since I have partaken in the sinful, uninhibited, mind altering ecstasy that is chocolate!

Everyone: (round of applause) good for you Betty, good for you!!!

Betty: as much as I enjoy and long for your love and admiration, I have failed you all…

Everyone: heavy sigh with muttered speech around the circle

Betty: (Shoulders slumped)

I awoke this morning from a restless night of tossing and turning, cold sweats ravaging my system.  I tried contacting my sponsor but she was unavailable( ok she was asleep right next to me)!  It was terrible, TERRIBLE I TELL YOU!!!! I can hear it (chocolate) calling my name in the middle of the night! The house is quiet, and yet there it is, taunting me, calling my name! BETTTYY, BEETTYYYY, COME EAT ME!  

The chocolate rustling from within a satchel, squirming, rubbing together so the cellophane makes a very distinct sound.  MMMMMM Chocolate! I just can’t stand it! I CANT STAND FREAKING STAND IT!!!!!

This is the way I picture a support group devoted to the insane addiction that is chocolate. Together as one we discuss the evil side effects associated with loving chocolate just a little too much!  guidance and help provided to get you through a day without finding yourself holed up in a downstairs closet, gorging on a fist full of dark, creamy sin, hoping no one from your family finds you in this degrading example of uncontrollable excess!

It’s truly a struggle for us chocoholics! Its our drug of choice! Having a bad day? Nothing a Dove bar can’t fix! Gotten in an argument with your significant other? Well that Reese’s peanut butter cup is just the ticket! Kids giving you a migraine? Stand back Mounds bar you are all mine and if you don’t like it, I’ll eat your little buddy Almond joy too!  It’s that simple! One lick, one sniff, just a little taste, you’re hooked and there is no coming back!!!!!

Making matters worse our society has screwed chocoholics to the wall by enveloping certain holidays with candy! Any holiday where candy is present is a holiday where chocolate rules the day!  So when Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and the ever so dreaded EASTER come around we sit, salivating at the mere prospect of having one day, just one where we can stuff our faces in public without scrutiny from the fitness police!

Hell at Christmas time what is the gift of choice for most business partners, acquaintances, distant family members and friends?  SEE’S CANDIES!!!! Yep that’s right they opened a store dedicated to nothing but CHOCOLATE!!! Its like finally getting my medical marijuana card then being told I can only shop for product once a year. One month and one month only the dispensary opens up allowing me to fulfil all mymarijuana needs!

So whats a guy like me to do? A man who can smell chocolate pulling into a parking lot at 300 feet! A man who over the last 2 years has lost close to 40 pounds by fighting, working out and struggling to eat healthy! A man who on Halloween night watched his children divvying up their candy treasure like a hawk eyes its future dinner from above, waiting for the right moment to strike! As the kids placed their treasure back into Halloween sacks for safe keeping, my mouth salivating at the thought of locating these sacks then prying them from there secure spots for future pillaging.  I know its wrong. I really do!!

Yet I can hear the chocolate calling, like a zombie only living off the urge to bite, I follow my snapping jaw towards fresh meat, it’s there and chomping into it will bring a frenzied relief to my suffering.  I struggle with this feeling on a daily basis.

A valiant effort was put forth last night, but before long as with all addicts I succumbed to the urge, finally giving in to my inner demons around midnight! Looking back on it now, it was sad really; There I sat on the floor in the kitchen, bags in hand sobbing uncontrollably as piece after piece made its way down my gullet.  Melted chocolate on my lips, chin and hands. I cried out of disgust for the 3200 calories I had just ingested, I cried for letting myself down, I cried for the hypocrisy of teaching my children not to steal from each other and yet here I sat red-handed (or chocolate-brown handed as it were) stealing piece after piece from someones secret stash!  Oh yes a pathetic shell of a man covered in milky way, caramel, peanut butter and dark chocolate.  But what made it the biggest failure of all?

It felt good! Sugar, chocolate, sweetness coursing through my veins, bringing relief to the cold sweaty pains of laying in bed knowing it was downstairs!

I was found in the morning surrounded by candy wrappers, in the same location on the kitchen floor.  I awoke from my chocolate coma, disoriented, blurry eyed surrounded by little people staring down at the lump of a father who laid before them.  I could have asked for forgiveness but they have heard it all before.  No tears, no anger, no hurtful words were spoken.  Just the woeful tired look glaring back from eyes of disappointment.   I sat up and tried to speak, but three heads looked to the ground as the oldest pointed upstairs, suggesting that I leave.

As I headed upstairs, feeling as low as a snakes belly I heard the littlest one mumble to my oldest; I found him first and kissed him to wake him up. He was sweaty and it tasted like a milky way.  That is weird right?  The oldest quietly answered back it was weird and together they decided it was time to hide what remained so I may never ever find it..

As I turned the corner at the top of the landing, my daughter was overheard mumbling; maybe we should just give the chocolate away so we never end up like dad..  They all agreed.  See maybe I am teaching them something after all…..

My name is Betty and I am a chocoholic…..

A fathers pledge….

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To my daughter,

I pledge as your father too;

Always do my very best at protecting your young eyes and impressionable mind from the cruelties this world has to offer you.

Prepare you for life as an adult by allowing you to fail with gentle guidance towards success.

Tell you no and mean it.

Dance with you for no reason at all..

Allow you to be a princess when you feel like it, while celebrating the moments your tomboy rules the roost.

Understand that crying isn’t just for girls but big dumb old dads as well.

Not punch the first boy who dumps you and makes you cry. Unless you want me too?

Take you fishing without your brothers.

Teach you to hunt.

Brag about you not only when you are not around but when you think I can’t see you.

Have tea with you, even if that includes your horse and the two goats.

Hold your hand.

Take you on ice cream dates once a month.

Embarrass you in public. It’s just good clean fun and lends you to developing an awesome sense of humor.

Teach you all the devilish, sneaky and sometimes cruel ways of the adolescent boy.

Teach you all the even harsher ways of the mind bending adolescent girl.

Remind you on a regular basis that before someone else can love you, you need to love you.

Remind you that I love you.

Always answer the phone when you call no matter what time it is.

Pick you and your friends up anytime day or night if you have partied a little to hard.

Always call you “my little girl”

Walk you down the aisle on your wedding day without crying in front of your future husband.

Support what ever career choice you make, it’s not for me to like or dislike your choices, only to gently give you my opinion as an elder man with many experiences under his belt.

Teach you no matter what some friend, boyfriend, or stranger may try to convince you, your father will always listen to what you have to say. I may not always have the answer but I will do my best to find one.

Let you see me fail.

Always tell you the truth.

Remind you there are evil men in this world, but none as ruthless as your father when it comes to someone threatening, hurting, or stealing his daughters innocence, self-worth or life. I will find them and I will make them pay.

Try my very hardest at being a good dad, I will let you down on occasion as you will I. We are human therefor mistakes will be made, but as long as you know in your heart I will always love you there is nothing we cannot conquer together.

Love dad….

 

 

An Army of one….

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Standing at the precipice a cool breeze blocks the warmth from my face.  Coffee in hand the heart rate raises unexpectedly, a trickle of sweat forms upon the rim of my brow; my face is flush and mottled red.  Fear; fear rises inside as an uneasy feeling erupts inside my gut.  I must travel these cold steps towards the gates of hell but my feet appear to have become frozen.  My knees tremble and knock as general weakness overtakes the ability to move.

I know I must go, I know I must make this journey into domestic bowels.  No person wishes for this, I never asked for it nor did I volunteer this assignment yet here I stand, chill down my spine, a tight feeling in my throat, and sweat trickling down my face and back, knees locked together like a Friday evening bankers vault.  Where are the troops?  Where is my back up, my support system comprised of willing individuals to help over take the monster that lay dormant in the dark cavern? Where are they? They are nowhere to be found, they have abandoned ship, left their posts for more enjoyable endeavors.  A Army of one, alone I stand, and a stand I will make. 

It’s not the journey mind you, I have made these travel many times in the past.  It’s like being hit by an electric fence. You know the fence is hot, you know it’s going to hurt, but you also know you have to get through the fence when no gate is present.  So with all that knowledge each time you get hit by the electricity it doesn’t hurt any less yet in some strange fashion it doesn’t seem quite so bad.

But this time it’s different.  I know it shouldn’t be yet it is.  The ball of fire in the sky has come and gone many times since last traversing this trail.  The wind coming from its belly has a particular smell that brings worry and fear to my soul.  It also brings a tear to my eye as it stings the senses. 

Again I stare downward, into its depths, a sip of coffee a deep breath, I exhale stand up straight and start my journey.  The breeze still present brings a more pungent sickly sweet scent to my senses, I continue forward.  A few more stairs and a silhouette of the creature is in the distance; its massive shadowy mound lying dormant for now.  It has not been awakened and that is a good thing for to wake this monster will bring nothing but heartache to all who challenge its existence.  Reaching the bottom of the stairs I find the temperature is cooler, moist almost sticky.  Ducking under a low lying beam the monster is suddenly before me! It’s large and I swear its moving, different colors, patterns and textures make up this abnormality of existence. 

I work my around it quietly, for on the other side stands the Machines of Justice. The mound guards the Machines of Justice ensuring no one can ever use them for what they are intended.  By growing in size when needed the mound can completely block ones path from reaching the Machines of Justice ensuring certain failure to all who try. If I reach the machines of justice successfully I can slowly terminate this life form without disturbing it from its slumber.  It’s a risky move for sure, but effective none the less.  I have had great success with this maneuver in the past and since there is no back up coming it’s all or nothing.  The smell is toxic and starts affecting my breathing, making it shallow and labored, at one point I begin to feel light headed.  I pace myself slowly picking pieces of armor from the monsters back.  The smelliest ones first then other pieces of color and texture are the next to meet their demise inside the Machine of Justice.

While focusing on the task at hand the monster moves! Hard to the left it rolls but I counter with a receptacle to the side! Hustling back to my left I grab a large section of the beast hurling it with great force into the Machine of Justice! Yes!! Success!! The monster, realizing it is out matched has laid down flat allowing me to finish it off by pulling it apart creating smaller piles for processing!  I have triumphed! I have slain the beast with little to no fight at all! The Machines of Justice hum a song exalting my superiority over this inferior adversary! I will rise up the Hero once again! I turn arms in air shouting towards the heavens above; YOU SHALL NEVER DEFEAT ME!!

Dad? 

I turn to see my 7 year old staring at me with a befuddled look upon his face holding another basket of laundry to add to the pile.

 

The monster lives again…..

“And that’s how you turn the simple act of doing laundry into a short story about a fatherly super hero who battles evil.”

My work here is done…..

A hunting we will go…..

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SSSSSHHHHHHHHHH! Be very, very quiet……. I’m hunting (you fill in the animal here)!

Pull up your boot straps, put on your best camouflage, sight in your rifle and fill up your camel back! We are going hunting boys! That’s right 2 days two nights of hiking, scouting, hiking, climbing, hiking, crawling through the brush quietly, hiking, doing a lot of praying, and last but not least did I mention all the hiking!

Its deer season and my son wants’ nothing more than to bag one of California’s finest mule deer! He’s read the reports, checked on the weather and sighted in his rifle.  He has painstakingly watched every episode of any and all deer hunting associated shows on television and believes he’s ready for a serious case of “buck fever”!

“Buck Fever” noun

Nervous excitement felt by a novice hunter at the sight of game.

Yep he wants to feel buck fever bad and as his father I can’t help but sit back and reflect upon my childhood.  All the wonderful memories flooding back like it was yesterday! Seeing the want to fulfill another step towards manhood in a Neanderthal, me man, I provide sort of way is so emotionally moving.  Holding a rifle, staring down the sight tube at your intended victim, knowing there will be food on the table tonight! You need to be man enough, steady enough, and calm enough to lay down that one shot, the only shot you’ll get before that buck runs for the hills!  Ah the pressure, the excitement, the anticipation!

One problem…

I have never hunted deer.  I have hunted pigs; I have spent more than my fair amount of time and a considerable amount of money fishing.  But my youth retains no memories of ever going out into the woods to hunt deer.  The memories I hold revolve around horses, sheep, 4-H and working on our ranch! I have never felt the longing for hiking endless hours in the woods hoping to find one deer, all alone just waiting for me to kill it!  In fact every time I think of hunting deer, it’s not the prospect of delicious venison that awaits me, or the thought of a giant rack hanging on my wall as some form of testosterone filled pride for all to see.  Quite the contrary! I go to a much darker place when thinking about hunting deer.  A place so dark and foreboding that even the strongest willed man would not survive there without shedding a tear or feeling his soul shake to the very core!

For you see when it comes to hunting deer the message is crystal clear and has been for every man, woman and child since; August 13, 1942!

DON’T GO INTO THE MEADOW!!!!

The movie Bambi has held a polarizing grip upon all of our heart strings for 70 freaking years! If you think for one second you can sit there professing how you didn’t cry when Bambi’s mom died at the hands of the hunter! Then I can sit here and call you a fat faced liar!!! Every person I know cried like a baby when Bambi’s mom was shot! The sound of a rifle firing, any rifle firing flashes me back to that very moment when it was assumed she had been killed.  Like a bad case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder the images are all too real! As full grown adults our stomachs get tied up in knots while watching Bambi with our children for the first time because we know! We know she is gonna die and we know that a very detailed explanation of life and death are going to proceed after the hysteria and Kleenex party is over! But what message did Bambi send us self centered human beings? What has Bambi’s legacy taught us all?

Bambi taught us all about respecting nature! Bambi also taught us that animals like humans have families who depend upon them for love and guidance.  Bambi allowed us all to glimpse into the life of a fledgling young buck.  From the joys of birth with birds singing all around to the struggles of a young lad making friends in a new somewhat rough neighborhood! Bambi taught us that it doesn’t matter what kind of animal you are, we can all be friends! It also taught us about the emotional toll taken on a young boy who has just lost his mom! But best of all (this one was a real shocker for yours truly) did you know all animals can speak English? It’s true! Oh they hide behind their wiggling noses, and teeth grinding grass burning jaws, but don’t let that blank stare fool you! They can communicate and will not hesitate to do so the minute your back is turned!  But even with all these revelations about the animal community, one thing remains true! Bambi gave us the lesson of a lifetime! You see; by going into the meadow you will die! Simple as that! Step one foot into the meadow, any meadow and meet your fate at the hands of a plaid wearing, gun toting fool who will kill anything on site!  Lesson well learned Mr. Disney, lesson well learned!

As humans we are supposed to love all creatures big and small no matter how tasty they may be smothered in mushrooms, onions-garlic and barbecue sauce!  No sir, we must all wake up, putting away our blood lust, welcoming all forms of vegetation for nourishment like the great Brontosaurus or Giraffe!  For you see a plant doesn’t hurt, a plant doesn’t feel, if you cut the plant does it cry? If you shoot the tree does it bleed? Plants don’t have families curled up sleeping with them out in the open or like the rabbit live in a fully furnished five bedroom hole in the ground complete with kitchen and dining room table! The message is clear, share the earth with all things great and small but don’t eat them.

So by following Disney’s obvious wisdom and not wanting to offend the spirit of the late great Walt Disney himself, how then do I support my son and his venture with a clear conscience? How do I let my son walk into the wild, hide in some trees, then kill some poor Buck, some deer’s husband, some little deer’s father who happened to wander out into the meadow? How? How I ask you?

I know, I’ll pretend we are a family of T-Rex’s. Problem solved! Even Walt Disney can’t look down from heaven and fault us for that!

 

P.S. No vegetarians were harmed in the writing of this post.  Being a vegetarian is a choice and as with all choices made in life to be respected.  Eggplant for everyone!!!!

Singing in the rain…

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0230 hours

Sleeping lightly wondering why I can’t trail off into a good old-fashioned deep sleep.  Tossing turning, hearing every creak, rattle, and moan from within our old farm-house.  Frustration setting in…

0245

The sound of Parker (our littlest one) stirring about has my radar on high alert. I wait, anticipate the inevitable, but there is nothing. So I attempt drifting off to sleep again…

0305

Dad? Dad? DAAAAAAAAAD!!!!! Huh what? Crap I finally fell asleep! Its Parker, he is holding his blankie while quietly mumbling into my ear. I wet the bed dad.  (heavy sigh here). Ok buddy; I tell him. Go get into the shower and please be quiet, others are still sleeping.  Parker looks straight into my eyes (acknowledgment) and whispers; ok.

Begrudgingly I start stripping the young lads bed. Thank heavens we still wrap his mattress in a plastic cover for just such an occasion.  A little Lysol disinfectant, some fresh sheets and this little sprinkler will be back into slumber land in no time. I can’t say the same for me as I know this will be the straw that broke slumbers back.

Moving with the gate of a zombie, my room service maid duties begin to flow when suddenly I notice a noise coming from the bathroom. Ok maybe a “noise” is being polite. Its more like an out of tune wail? Or maybe a cat has slipped into the shower? Either way its loud, and is certain to wake up one or more of the slumbering beauties residing under this roof! Blundering towards the bathroom, swinging open the door, young Parker crooning away some unknown collaboration as if he was Frank Sinatra pulling a little wind down after a successful night at the Sands! In my loudest whisper I remind him to please be quiet, for others are sleeping! He pulls the curtain aside and screams WHAT, I CANT HEAR YOU DAD!

Are you kidding me! Quiet down son others are sleeping! He says sorry, closes the curtain and resumes showering.  Before I can clear the hallway into his bedroom to resume my duties as head maid, he breaks into a full mantra of songs.  All original renditions mind you! But a mini concert none the less has unfolded within the confines of our upstairs bathroom.

I turn on my heels as if preparing for inspection from R. Lee Ermy himself! Fists clenched I start back down the hall with a snappy military gate! Little bodies begin rustling from the noise which only increases my blood pressure and helps grind my teeth tighter. Grabbing the door handle yet again I have full intentions of squelching someones musical creativity with the ferocity of a grumpy elderly next door neighbor banging on the door yelling  “keep it down or I’ll call the police”!

Now in Parkers defense, I am sure he believes his version of Ave Maria is concert worthy to the point Luciano Pavarotti would shower him in rose pedals and praise. But at three in the morning after being told to please keep it quiet, the critics are miffed and the local daily revue will not have nice things to print about his performance!

Opening the door I realize all noise has stopped, along with the shower.  I am greeted with a very hearty “good morning dad”! As a little giant marches past wrapped in his best robe, smile on his face its obvious the only thing he hears is the roar of his adoring fans! Following him down the hall into his room the prima donna promptly throws half his clothing from the dresser to the floor in an attempt to find the perfect outfit! A star of the bathroom opera must, after all look their best after a performance! Settling on a dapper pair of shorts and night-shirt he gazes my direction as if to say; you may go now and with the flick of a wrist flops into a freshly wrapped bed!  Head hitting the pillow the lad is asleep before I can clear the threshold.

0430

Still awake, can’t sleep, wondering whose child he really is and strangely wishing for another performance from the bathroom opera! Oh well maybe I’ll read a little bedtime story….