Category Archives: Life Lessons

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I’m going to have to re-learn my ABC’s

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I haven’t written about this or put it on paper, but for some reason I feel compelled to do it now.

Friday, May 13th 2011 was supposed to be a special day.  It was supposed to be a happy day.  It was the day I was going to meet my daughter for the first time.  It was supposed to be the day TheBoy was going to meet his little sister.  It was the day for our family to be complete – until…

I heard TheWife in the shower, but I decided to lay in bed a little longer knowing it wouldn’t be another 3 to 6 months until the next time I had a solid nights sleep.  I heard her finish blow-drying her hair and felt her presence as she walked towards me to wake me up.  Her soft hands touched me on the shoulder; the ends of her slightly damp hair brushed my face as she kissed me on the cheek.  I was awake, but I didn’t want to get up, we were going to have a baby.  I mean my wife was going to have a baby; I was only going to be a cheerleader.  Our family of three was going to be four.  We were prepared, don’t get me wrong, but once again we were embarking on unchartered waters.  I opened my eyes and looked at TheWife and said, “Lets go have a baby.”

I got out of the shower, dried myself off, put on my Speed Stick and was ready to get dressed.  I opened the door and put one foot on my master bedroom carpet and heard a pop in my right ear.  I started to feel drunk, dizzy, disoriented…not right.  I tried to move, I couldn’t.  I collapsed to the ground.  What was wrong with me?  Did I need something to eat?  Was I having an allergic reaction to the allergy medicine I had taken before my shower?  I was paralyzed for a few moments and called for TheWife.  I heard her slowly climbing the stairs – she was 40+ weeks pregnant.  As I’m lying on the carpet, naked – she waddles into the room and asked, “What the fuck are you doing?”  I tried to get up, I tried multiple times but I couldn’t.  TheWife was getting frustrated at my “antics” and was getting mad; she thought I was joking around.  There I was, naked, getting zero sympathy as she is throwing my pants, socks, and shirt at me.  I couldn’t blame her!  I would be upset too, but there was something wrong with me.   It was as if I drank an entire bottle of whiskey.  There was something wrong.

I mustered up enough strength and put on the clothes that were kindly thrown at me.  With all the strength that I had, I got up off the carpet and headed downstairs.  If you have kids – Imagine watching your kids attempting to walk down a flight of stairs for the first time.  That is how I looked…cautious, careful, and wobbly with every step.  My head was moving in circles, my eyes couldn’t focus – I was struggling to complete a task I had done thousands of times.

As I handed over the keys and told TheWife I was unable to drive, I received the “look of death” from her.  She had all the reasons to be mad.  This was supposed to be her.   This was supposed to be the day we met TheGirl.  As we were driving I couldn’t concentrate or focus my eyes.  I decided to look down at the floor and tried to comprehend what was going on.  Earlier that year I remember watching the news coverage of a reporter having a stroke on live T.V. during the Oscars.

I finally put two and two together, looked at my wife and told her I think I was having a stroke.  We were still about 5 to 10 minutes away from the hospital and she asked me to squeeze her finger.  With all my strength I squeezed.  She told me to squeeze harder.  The best way to describe my squeeze would be when a baby grabs your finger while they are feeding.  Needless to say, I was no Arnold Schwarzenegger.  For the first time, TheWife had a look of fear in her eyes and a determination to get me to the hospital.  Noticing the fear in her eyes I reassured her she would be able to re-teach me the ABC’s – I’m a good student.

When we got to the hospital TheWife wanted to park the car in the parking garage and push me in a wheel chair to the E.R.  Could you imagine a pregnant woman pushing her husband through a hospital on a wheelchair?  I would have found it humorous.

Up to this point, I still had the function of speech.  My speech immediately went away as I started to explain what had transpired in the last 30 minutes to the nurse on duty.  I thought I was speaking fine until the nurse stopped me in mid sentence, when she picked up the phone and called a code blue, red, green, yellow (I don’t remember what the color was).  I do remember being greeted by 4 nurses and 2 doctors.

The emergency staff of the hospital worked like a well-oiled machine.  I smiled for them when asked (something you have to do when you have a stroke), looked at and read 3rd grade level pictures and words.  All the while, my wife sat at my side and she explained to them we were scheduled to have our baby.  I probably had 10 to 15 (exaggeration, it was more like 3 or 4, but it felt like 10 to 15) CT scans in a 60-minute time frame.  I was administered TPA, IVs were put in, I was surrounded by nurses and doctors.

During my time of being hooked up to every beeping machine, monitor, and gadget in the hospital my parents showed up with TheBoy.  Seeing my son brought a smile to my face and calm to my surroundings.  My Dad brought my son in and he sat next to me and kissed my cheek.  He asked, “Do you have an ouchy?”  I reassured him I would be okay.  He hugged me and he left the room.

During all this time, my main concern was for TheWife.  This was her day, not mine.  The nurses monitored her and me at the same time and when she had a contraction and her blood pressure rose, they sent her to the maternity ward.  I wasn’t going to be able to see my daughter born?

As they wheeled her off, they wheeled me off to surgery to remove the clot that had formed in my brain.  As I laid on the operating room and counted 100, 99, 98, 97, 96, the lights went out.  I wouldn’t lie and say and didn’t see “things” or “flashes of light” but I did and it was truly amazing.  When I woke up from my sleep, ceiling lights were rushing pass, my head hurt, and I started to freak out.  I heard a doctor tell to calm down.  When I finally realized where I was and what was going on I had two important questions.  1. Where is my wife? 2.  Why the FUCK did you put in a catheter?  Needless to say, a few of nurses got a chuckle out of my second question.

My beautiful wife who decided she wasn’t going to have our baby without me greeted me in the ICU.  She is one of the strongest women I know and I love her to death.

I spent 4 days in the hospital and had tests, more tests, and even more tests.  I had one rough night but through it all my family and friends were always by my side.

On May 18th our daughter was born and she is my saving “Grace”.  If she decided to come early I highly doubt I would be writing this.  She is a stubborn little girl and I love her for saving Daddy’s life.  Through all the drama my wife didn’t shed one tear until the night before our second scheduled C-section.  As we lay in bed together for the first time she put her head on my shoulder and wept…she deserved it.  Thank you for saving me.

If you would like to read more about this story click here

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The Saga Ends: Part V of Road Trippin’ 2013

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Outside Washington’s Greenhouse

Once again, I would like to thank Mike and Kelly for opening their home to our family, feeding us, watching our kids so me and TheWife could go out (Maple Manhattans), advising us on what sites to see, and being great friends.  You are amazing friends with big hearts and our children love you as much as we do.  Thanks for everything – Houston 2015 Road Trippin’ is on the horizon!!

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When we made the decision to visit Washington D.C., Mount Vernon was one the tourist destinations I wanted/needed to visit.  Not only did I want to walk the halls of our First President’s home, but Mt. Vernon was also a 7th grade project I worked on with my grandfather.

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In 1997 my grandfather dedicated a weekend to help construct a scale model of Mt. Vernon as it overlooked the Potomac River.  I remember my grandfather being patient with with my every cut and paste.  It was an experience I still talk about today.  So, it was necessary for me to see the actual estate in person.  My only regret is, 5 years ago I threw out the model – it would have been cool to bring it on our trip and see if the museum would display it our something.

After the previous days stroller debacle, the first item out of the trunk was the stroller (no debates or looks of death today).  The sun was shining, the clouds painted the sky in a deceiving way to make one think it was a comfortable temperature.  Where were the kid’s jackets?  Yep, we remembered the stroller but not the jackets.  After a quick stop to the gift shop and $40.00 later, TheBoy and TheGirl had new Mt. Vernon sweat shirt.

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The Mt. Vernon Estate is huge and has a lot to offer: Tours of the home, green grass for kids to run in, flower and beautiful back drops to take pictures, farm animals, and overall a great family atmosphere.  TheKids rolled down the hills, ran in the grass, played tag with Kelly, pet the sheep, and were infatuated with the pigs.

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The overall experience was enjoyable and brought back wonderful memories of my grandfather.  It was also great seeing TheKids play and enjoy time with Mike and Kelly.  Mike and Kelly are wonderful friends and we appreciate them taking time out of their busy schedules to spend the afternoon with us and opening their home to us for the weekend.

Thanks for the DC memories!!!

THE END

Side note – We also went to visit Georgetown and the highlight was visiting the steps to the Exorcist.

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They fixed it after Megatron crashed into it: Part III of Road Trippin’ 2013

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With day one in the books, a plan planned out, we set out for a second day of adventure and culture.  We disembarked the Metro and headed to the White House.

Prior to us leaving Chicago we had friends let us borrow their stroller that was more compact than the running stroller that we have at home.  We appreciate them allowing us to borrow the stroller, but it turned out to be our Achilles heel.  For some reason it made pushing difficult no matter which kid was in the front or the back.  It had a starboard list (for you non-Navy types – it leaned towards the right), which made it difficult to maneuver.  Regardless, we appreciate our friends allowing us to use their stroller.

Our children were an awe of how “white” the White House was and they stared in awe at the enormity and beauty of our President’s home.  It was refreshing to see other families with smaller children “culturing” their children with the rich history of our Nation’s Capitol.  We stared at the White House for a long 2 minutes and made our way to the reflecting pool.

As a person who previously served his country, it was important for me to view all the War Memorials.  While we were at the Vietnam Memorial my son witnessed two veterans weeping as they were making a pencil rubbing of a fallen comrade.  It was a very moving moment and I was humbled by the experience.  TheBoy kept asking why they were crying – I couldn’t find the words to explain why they were crying.  I told him they were sad their friend was no longer with them.  TheBoy being TheBoy informed that their friend will always be in their heart.  Both of the children enjoyed looking at their reflections in the memorial and it brought a sense of calm to my heart to see the innocence, love, and fun they were having.

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As we maneuvered our way through the crowds to view the most beautiful structure I have ever seen, The Lincoln Memorial, I was moved by the size and beauty of the structure built for our Greatest President.  As mentioned before, the stroller was a pain and we were not able to climb the steps of the memorial and stand in the spot where Dr. Martin Luther King gave his “I Have a Dream Speech”.  We took an elevator (yes, there is an elevator) to see Lincoln sitting in his chair as he surveyed the beauty of the National Mall.  The initial reaction of my kids – jaws dropped.  Then TheBoy made the funniest comment of the trip.  If you like Transformers you’ll understand.  He looked up at Old Abe and said, “They must have fixed him after Megatron sat on him”.  Oh my boy, I can’t wait until I tell everyone about that one.  TheGirl thought she was an exception to the rule or being obstinate as she usually is tried to climb over the metal ropes to sit on President Lincoln’s lap.  Needless to say, security didn’t appreciate a two year old trying to sit on “Santa’s” lap.  We took a few pictures, thanked a few WWII Veterans who were visiting with the Honor Flight (click here to read more about Honor Flights) and made our way to the WWII Memorial – or so I thought.

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On our way to the WWII Memorial, TheGirl feel and scraped her knee and leg multiple times.  It was the end of the world!!  Did I mention my wife is a great planner?  Well, she failed to bring bandages, anti-septic, and a suture bag.  With blood streaming down TheGirls leg, we briskly walked through the WWII Memorial with a sobbing child.  It was not fun and decided to end our adventure.

Also, we were not smart travelers and walked 7 miles instead of using public transportation to make our lives easier.  Instead, we carried a crying kid and pushed another in a stroller that wouldn’t roll in a straight line.

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THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE HISTORY: Part II of Road Trippin’ 2013

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We stopped, thank goodness!  TheWife went into the hotel to get our room while I waited outside with the kids, who unfortunately woke up as soon as I turned off the engine.  I could tell the TheBoy was still tired and ready to go back to bed.  TheGirl on the other hand – was ready to party.

We settled into our room, kids were put in pajamas and went to bed, or so we thought.  TheBoy passed out immediately and TheGirl wanted to carry on a conversation, play with my hair, and rub my face.  That wasn’t bad; the pillows in the hotel were 12×12 shitty pillows, which made sleeping difficult.  I think both TheWife and I got a total of 4 hours of sleep.

“It’s just a lot of grass and rocks Daddy!”

Blasphemy son!!  This is history.  We are walking on hallowed grounds.  You could be standing in the same spot as Robert E. Lee or Ulysses S. Grant.  One of the greatest battles in our American history was fought here, isn’t that awesome?  Blood was shed here, lives were lost here, and this placed served as inspirations to one of the greatest speeches known to man.  How can you not think this is awesome?  This is HISTORY!!

“I just want to climb the tower?”

Gettysburg offers two different towers that you can climb to truly understand the enormity of the battlefield(s).  TheBoy who has no fear (unless it’s Ursula from Little Mermaid) climbed a 75ft. tower with ease.  TheWife on the other hand – I’ll leave that for another time.

I think, as parents we sometimes forget things we think are cool are not cool to our children.  If all my children remember of Gettysburg are cannons, towers, and the awful cow manure smell, I’m okay with it.  It was great family bonding experience at a historical sight I will never forget.  Observing the innocence of a child while walking the battlefields of Gettysburg makes one put things into perspective – in the end, it could be worse, we could be worse.

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WE MADE IT!!!  I hope Mike and Kelly are ready for us (click here to read their blog)?  Our friends live in the beautiful suburb of Arlington, VA and near a Metro station, which makes travel easier for those not brave enough to tackle D.C. traffic and roundabouts.  We unpacked our bags and headed out to our first adventure to the National Mall.

Our trip was planned around the blossoming of the historic Japanese cherry trees (yes, the cherry trees were given to the US as a gift in 1912 from Japan) which surround the Washington Monument and the tidal basin near the Jefferson Memorial…This is HISTORY!!

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Needless to say, it was very busy with lots of photography and celebrating going on.  I have a tendency to get a little nervous in big crowds; it’s very suffocating to me and difficult to deal with.  It also didn’t help it was 90 degrees out.  With the culmination of lots of people accidently rubbing their sweatiness on me freaked me out.  However, I was able to take some fantastic pictures.

Both TheBoy and TheGirl were amazed by the beauty and sweet color of…the pink lemonade we bought them.  They could have cared less if they were looking at a cherry tree or redwood.  They had little interest in the beauty, the white and pinkish tones of the blossoms, or the history…THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE HISTORY!!

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If my children didn’t truly absorb the beauty of the cherry trees or the significance of a battlefield – I’m okay with it.  They were able to absorb the sweet taste of pink cherry lemonade, climb a tower, and breath in the stench of cows – which will in turn remind them of their trip to the grassy field and the place with a white rod coming our of the ground with a sharp point at the end of it.

To be continued…

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Baseball has been very, very good to me…


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The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. – Terrance Mann, Field of Dreams

I don’t know if it’s the game of baseball I love, or the stories behind baseball that are more intriguing to me.  In the first week of the 2013 MLB season we were captured by an almost perfect game from Yu Darvish and witnesses to a 20-year-old phenom, Bryce Harper, have a multi-homerun game.  Stories like these are what get my baseball “blood” flowing.

As much as I love the stories, I love the memories I had growing up playing catch with my Dad and brothers.  Long toss in the yard, monkey in the middle, and the game of 500 were played on most summer evenings. Driving to games in a caravan of cars to arrive and leave as a team, the bonds that were shared amongst boys in a man’s game, the incredible catches, stolen bases, and a bases clearing double are what I remember and love of playing baseball.  They are fond memories; they are memories that will be embedded into my brain as much as the 2003 Chicago Cubs run at the World Series will.

As I embark on the “Baseball Dad” journey with my son a part of me wants to go back in time to relive the moments I had with my Dad while he showed me how to throw and catch a ball.  I never knew how difficult it would be to teach my 5-year-old son how to perform the basic fundamentals of the game.  We tend to pick up the ball off the ground more, than taking it out of the glove.  I have a vivid memory of playing catch with my dad for the first time and throwing the ball into the ground.  I can still hear my dad’s voice giving me pointers and tips on where to release the ball as my arm is coming forward.  The patience he displayed during the first few days of my training should be inducted into the, Dad Hall of Fame.  I wasn’t the best student; he was a great teacher who made me a better player.

As I play catch with my son, I try to remember the pointers and tips that were presented to me by my father.  We might pick up the ball off the grass more often than not, but it is the time spent with my son that is the most important part of the game.  How my son embraces the stories, the smells, and the love of the game will “mark the time” of our baseball journey.

LET’S GET SOME RUNS!!!

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Doing the Happy Dance!

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Funny Conversation…

 

Me – Cameron, Do you have to go to the bathroom?

Cameron – NO! I just like dancin’.

Me – So, you like doing the happy dance while playing on your leap pad?

Cameron – It’s not a happy dance…I’m not happy!

Me – Okay, then why are you dancing?


Cameron – I have to pee really bad and it hurts…

Let the good times roll…

The editor in chief recommended I change my format.  Let’s see if she is right?

Why do kids wait so long to use the bathroom?  Why is it kids wait until you passed the sign that reads, NEXT REST STOP 38 MILES?  I don’t get it and doubt I ever will, but who knows, when I’m 90 and wearing Depends he will probably ask me the same question.

I have now become “that” dad who asks every five minutes when we are on a long road trip, “do you have to go potty?”  I am sure he gets tired of the question as much as I get tired of asking the question.  It needs to be done though!  Cameron and I recently took a road-trip to northern Nebraska and we were on a hilly stretch of highway with nothing but farms, cows, and truck drivers around us.  Cameron was asleep and I was rocking out to some music.  I heard him rustling around and as he woke up, he informed me he wet himself.  I couldn’t get mad at him; it was my fault that I gave him water an hour before he fell asleep.  I should have known better and remembered his peanut sized bladder.  I told him he would have to wait a few minutes before we could stop.  A few minutes turned into to 10.  We were nowhere near a gas station, restaurant, or rest stop, so I decided to pull off to the side of the road.  There I was, on the side of the road with my naked son standing out in the cold helping him change into dry clothes as 10 semi-trucks roar past our car.  It was a sight to see.

What’s with the dancing?  If you have to go, then go.  Like most kids, Cameron waits until the last possible minute to use the bathroom.  Watching him run to the bathroom, and hearing the rocket of urine escape his body is something out of a bad comedy.  It’s even funnier when he tells me, “That was close.”

Both TheWife and I tell him he shouldn’t wait so long, but understand it’s hard to walk away from the epic dual between Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader that he has seen hundreds of times.

Regardless of the dancing, the accidents, and multiple stops on long car rides – it’s better than changing diapers or being peed on at the zoo (I’ll let you think about that one, I’m still traumatized by that experience).

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To Whom It May Concern: Volume VI

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To whom it may concern,


Thank you for giving me a daughter who throws her toys when the Elmo segment of Sesame Street is over. Thank you for giving me a daughter who finds it humorous to feed the dog her Cheerios then throws a fit when all the food she fed the dog is gone. Thanks for giving me a daughter who considers the toilet her personal playground. For giving me a daughter who when I turn my back for 2 seconds finds a way to climb on the dining room table and does the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse dance. Also, thanks for giving me daughter who when I ask, “where is your nose”, she pokes me in the eye…then laughs. Thanks for giving me the greatest daughter a father could ask for.

 Respectfully,

 B.

P.S. – I wonder if Elmo would be a good drinking buddy?

I can’t seem to get out this funk?  As I have written in previous posts, LIFE happened and has taken a real toll on me and I can’t seem to get out the rut.  I have leaned on many things the past few weeks but they keep turning into questions, rather than lights at the end of the tunnel.  I was blessed to have a person in my life that I could draw inspiration from and they are now gone.  I’m not feeling sorry for myself, or in a depressed state – I just can’t get everything out of my head.

I learned so many life lessons not only about myself, but also about the world from this person.  He touched my life in so many ways; words can’t describe the effect he had on me.  Deep down I know he knows how much he helped me throughout my life.  My only wish is he continues to guide me through the rest of my life.  More importantly, I hope the lessons I learned from this great man will have an impact on how I raise my children.  My children deserve the knowledge, love, inspiration, and the same impact I had.  I know they will because that was the last Life Lesson that he bestowed upon me.  No matter if I see the lights at the end of the tunnel, I will continue to carry the torch to find the way…

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Bingeing on some Vedder, not Vader…

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Funny Conversation…

Me – Who is this?


Cameron – Eddie Vedder


Me – No, it’s Dave Mathews Band


Cameron – Oh…

Me – Who is this?


Cameron – Eddie Vedder

Me – No, this is Radiohead


Cameron – Oh…


Me – Who is this?


Cameron – I’m not going to say Eddie Vedder. I got that right didn’t I?

Let the good times roll…

There was a time in my life when I was introduced to a band and lead singer who would change how I would view, listen, and embrace the world.  The band was Pearl Jam and the singer/songwriter was Eddie Vedder.  I am not one of those crazy fans who have posters, tattoos of their album covers or lyrics engraved on my arm.  But, I relate to his music and recently LIFE happened and I was reluctant to have his lyrics and music to escape to.  I don’t have anything in common with Mr. Vedder with exception of living in San Diego and Chicago like he did and I ended up marrying a girl from Seattle.

Was this fate?  Is Pearl Jam my version of The Who?  Is Eddie Vedder my Bob Dylan?  I am able to connect to his songs and lyrics more now then I did when I was younger.  Long Road, Oceans, Even Flow, Alive, Indifference, Black, and Yellow Ledbetter all speak to me in ways I can’t begin to describe.  The lyrics are profound and are deep in meaning.  How does this relate to my blog?  Well, as I have written in the past, both Cameron and Parker love music, which I am thankful for.  I hope one day when LIFE gets in the way for my children they kind find peace and comfort in music.  It doesn’t have to be Pearl Jam or Eddie Vedder, but in the mean time, I’ll let them soak up as much of my influence as possible.

Long Road – Pearl Jam

I wished for so long…I can not stay

All the precious moments…Can not stay

Its not like wings have fallen…I can not say

Still something is missing…I can not say

When Cameron and I are in the car we play, “who is this”, of music.  I have conditioned him to say Eddie Vedder to every song that he hears.  I know, I’m bad, but I find it amusing when he gets it correct.

It was a bright sunny day and Cameron and I were headed back home from a day at the zoo.  Windows were down, the wind was in our hair, the music was blasting and we were replaying the day’s events in our conversation.  I had my iPod in hand and shuffling through my songs and asked Cameron, “Who is this?”  Without hesitation, Cameron replied, “Eddie Vedder.”  After listening for a few seconds of Dave Matthews, Grace is Gone, I informed him that is was not Eddie Vedder.  After the song was over and shuffling through a few more songs, I asked Cameron, “Who is this?”  Once again, without hesitation he blurted out, “Eddie Vedder!”  Again, with regret, I had to inform him that it was in fact Radiohead, Karma Police.  I started to shuffle through the songs again and noticed the frustration build in Cameron’s face.  I stopped on a song and hit play, and before I could even get the question out of my mouth, Cameron responded, “I’m not going to say Eddie Vedder.  I got that right didn’t I?”  Feeling bad, I decided to hit the skip button, because in fact it was Eddie Vedder’s, Hard Sun.

I had to let him win at least once…

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Fishing with the Kings

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Funny Conversation…



Cameron – Daddy, I’m the fisher king!

Me – What makes you the fisher king?

Cameron – I caught 12 fish and a foot long fish!

Me – That makes you an ichthyologist (look it up)


Cameron – Yeah, I’m that and a fisher king!

Let the good time roll… 

How many years does it take for something to become a “rite of passage”?  When does something that has little meaning at the time, have such a huge impact later in life?  For the past few days these are the questions that I have been asking myself.  Am I teaching my children the things that my father taught me, and the things his father taught him?  Do I accurately and correctly re-tell a story that was told to me by my grandfathers?  Am I teaching them the proper way, the way I was taught to tie a hook to a fishing line?  What was the secret I was taught on how to properly put a worm on a hook?  Do I tell my children talking doesn’t scare fish away?  Or, do I tell them talking does scare fish away?  Will they be able to digest the sights and sounds of their surroundings?  Will they breath in the fresh air and value how their time is being spent?  Will they place their hand in the cool water and bask in the day’s sunlight?  Will they listen to the sloshing of water under the metal boat and stare in the sky and wonder where the birds are headed?  I know only time will tell, but I have a feeling all will be perfect in the end.  My children are blessed by two guiding lights, which will be there for them when the path gets dim, and the light of day dissipates into night.

I can remember fishing in the ponds of Oklahoma with my Grandpa and Great-Grandpa.  I can remember fishing in the ponds of Missouri with my Dad and Grandpa.  I can remember fishing in the lakes of Wisconsin with my Brothers.  Fishing brings us together and will be a part of our family for generations to come.  Recently, my Dad took Cameron to Missouri to go fishing with my Grandpa (Cameron’s Great-Grandpa).  There is no better time to spend fishing, than fishing with Grandpa’s.  Every night we would get an excited phone call from Cameron telling us about his afternoon of catching fish.  During one conversation Cameron blurted out, “Daddy, I’m the Fisher King!”  I can only imagine which grandpa fed him that line?  I was happy he thought he was the Fisher King, but jealous at the same time and asked, ”What makes you the Fisher King?”  I was picturing him struggling to reel in a small perch and be so excited that he caught one fish.  I wasn’t prepared for the response of, “Because, I caught 12 fish and a foot long fish”.   One thing you have to understand about my family, we are HIGHLY competitive.  I don’t care if you’re 4 years or 99 years old, if you tell me you caught 12 fish and have evidence of your catch; I’m going to be pissed!  I was proud of my son, but felt it necessary to bring him back down from cloud 9 and told him, “That makes you an ichthyologist.”  For a few seconds there was silence and thought I was getting the last laugh on my 4-year old son when he replied, “Yeah, that and a FISHER KING!”  To do this day, I have never caught 12 fish in one day, and as usual, Cameron gets the last laugh.

This post is dedicated to both of my Grandfathers, two men I have always looked up to and admire.

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Sir, you dropped your underwear…

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Funny Conversation…

Lady – SIR, SIR!!

Me :: I turn around ::

Lady – I saw these fall out of your pant leg

Me – Thanks :: Horrified I immediately grab my underwear out of her hand and put them in my pocket ::

Lady – You’re welcome

Let the good times roll…

Today was a preschool day for my son and we all woke up late…I mean real late, 8:45ish and his class starts at 9:10.  We are usually up and ready to go by 7:30, but for some reason the Father Gods were probably golfing and enjoying a good laugh at my expense.  After rolling over and looking at the clock, I felt my throat hit my feet as I jumped out of bad.  In the process of jumping out of bed, I yell for everyone to get up.  In doing so, I’m sure Cameron thought the Decepticons were about to attack our secret hideout.  I scrambled to each room to ensure each of my kids were alive and gave my marching orders.  As I am getting Parker dressed (I refuse to take her any where in her pajamas), Cameron walks in wearing an outfit that…that, I don’t know what it was, but he was dressed.  Before heading downstairs I have both children brush their teeth and while overseeing the haphazard attempt of teeth brushing, I’m calculating how much time we have for breakfast, and how long it will take to officially get out of the house.  I figured I would have at least have 3 minutes to get Cameron a well-balanced meal and another 5 seconds to get shoes on the correct feet and jackets on.  We head downstairs and I throw Cameron fruit snacks, a granola bar, and a diet coke and tell him to eat his breakfast.  For some reason he had a look of fear in his eyes!  I don’t understand why?  As I’m getting Parker ready, Cameron at what seemed to be a painstakingly slow pace dons his jacket and shoes.  As I’m about to head out the door, I realize I’m still wearing shorts and a t-shirt.  I run back up stairs and put on the previous day’s clothes and run back downstairs. I buckle Parker into her seat while Cameron jumps in his seat and we are off.  I’m driving through my neighborhood at 50mph, when it’s a 25mph speed zone…I didn’t care!  We pull in the parking lot and I jump out of the car to unpack the kids.  I then realized I failed to buckle Cameron into his seat – I’m sure I’m going to hell for that.  I finally get both kids out of the car and head towards the entrance.  I’m carrying Parker and Cameron is following in tow.  We are mid-way through the parking lot when I stepped in a pothole that was covered with snow and slush. My foot is immediately engulfed in ice-cold water – literally everything in my body shrank.  I attempt to regain my composure and I’m happy with the fact that I did not utter the word “FUCK” multiple times.  I look at my watch and it read 9:10, not bad!!  As we are sprinting towards the door I hear a lady yell from behind us, “SIR, SIR!” I turn around to see this lady running towards me.  My first thought was to ignore the lady and continue on my mission to get Cameron to school on time.  As she is running towards me, she is waving a pair of underwear over her head (picture Charlie finding the Wonka Golden Ticket).  The second thought came to my head was, this lady is going to glitter bomb me with someone’s underwear.  When she finally caught up with us she tells me, “I saw these fall out of your pant leg.” She handed me my skivvies and giggled while walking away.  The third thought to go through my head, are these my underwear and did she just hand them to me?  Thankfully, I have yet to encounter this lady again, but if I do, I plan on giving her a high five because I got Cameron to school on time and I’m not down a pair of underwear.