Swimming is Cool

Under the bus.

I had a short trip back to Philadelphia for business. I was flying in at night, two days of meetings and flying back out at night. I didn’t tell friends and too many family members because I was going to be working the entire time. However, I do work with the LawnWhisperer and I made arrangements to stay with him since we would be at all the same meetings. He of course mentions it to my brother Jim, who then had to tell my Mom that I was going to be in town (thrown under the bus #1) and that I was NOT going to be staying with her (under the bus # 2). My mom, of course, calls me to ask why I don’t love her.

While I was there, I stopped by my parent’s for a visit. They were not home. I called my dad’s cell phone to see where they might be. They were on their way to a birthday party. While I was on the phone with my dad, my mom sitting next to him, he says to me, “So where are you staying tonight?”

“I am staying with LawnWhisperer.”

Without missing a beat, junst to make my mom think I do not love her, he says “Oh you are staying at your in-laws. Tell them we said hello.” (under the bus #3).

I finally get back down to Florida to see that LawnWhisperer posts a story about my sleeping habits. (Under the bus #4.)

The wheels on the bus go round and round….

Security

My wife is very sharp. She is on the ball. She is witty, hot and smart. But sometimes she has her moments. Moments where her speech and brain do not interact. Like today, we were driving, running some errands and talking about an upcoming business trip of mine.

I was discussing how Orlando International Airport has a security program for frequent flyers, where one can register and have speedy access through security check points. A person would pay a fee and submit to a background check as well as agree to have their fingerprints on file and also submit to a retinal scan each time they are at the airport.

I told her Orlando is the only airport that offers this service at this time. She thought about it for a minute and said, "I guess that is the way it is going. You know security and all. With RECTAL scans and everything else."

She caught herself and what she said and then proceeded to nearly crash the car as she as laughing.

Insults

These were things that were said to me that may or may not have been insults.

While returning from a walk.

"Bill? What made you think to wear that shirt with those shorts?"

While getting ready to go outside.
"Bill. Pull your socks down! Please."


While waiting to get a haircut for Maxfield.
"Sir? Will you be needing a haircut as well?"

Easy Listening

During a Phone Conversation

Lauren: Mother’s day is May 14th.

Bill: Oh right. Thanks for reminding me. (Trying to be sarcastic and funny) I need to get MY mom something.

Lauren: (acting like my attempt at humor is not funny) Heh.

Bill: What? You’re not MY MOTHER.

Lauren: Yeah. You’re right. I am not YOUR mother. So start picking up your own socks off the floor.

Finish

Do you think it is weird and funny that when a person eats the last of something, they technically (at least in my mind) ate the entire thing?

For instance, say there is ice cream in the house and person X ate 90% of the ice cream but person Y eats the last 10%, person X can say with disbelief, shock and disappointment, “You finished the ice cream?”

Or in another example, person X eats all but four M&M’s and then hands the bag to person Y and say very generously and charitably and kindhearted, “No, go ahead, You can finish them.”

In your household, is it automatically assumed that if a person eats the last of something that technically that person ate the whole thing?

Oh to be a kid again

“Max was so funny this morning Bill. He was sitting in his chair and he farted. I started to laugh. He started to laugh. The he kept trying to squeeze them out and he was laughing. It was so funny.”

“How come it is funny when he does that but not when I do that?”

“Because he is two. You're not.”

Church Vs. Max Round 5

As we entered St. Pete’s on Easter Sunday I already had the over/under at 15 minutes set in my head as far as how long Max would last. I also picked the over because Lauren was with me and I figured we would last longer in church than usual because there were two of us.

I also figured since Easter Sunday, for a church, is like the night before Thanksgiving or St Patty’s day for a bar (All the amateurs come out and it is also the biggest money day) that there would be enough people and distractions that maybe Max would last a little while longer.

The place was packed. There were gazillions of people. It was so packed that it was standing room only, even in the lobby. So that is where we stood. In the back. (I started having the itch to listen to the gospel and take mental notes in case my mom asked what was it about, slip out to the 7-11 and get Slurpees and play the Track and Field Video game. But I am an adult now so I must set an example.) Max did okay for the first 10 minutes. Walking around looking at people. Acting cute and friendly one second, and then shy and embarrassed the next.

It was at the 10-minute mark that he discovered that we were standing about 5 feet away from a water fountain. A handicapped/children accessible water fountain. Within 30 seconds of the discovery he proceeded to hit the button put his hand over the spout and splash the gentleman standing next to the water fountain. The gentleman laughed and smiled at Max and me. This was the first of about 30 trips to the water fountain.

Eventually the nice gentleman moved and Lauren took his place against the wall in the splash range of the fountain. Max continued to play with the water fountain until I had had enough. I quickly made my exit and Lauren soon followed. We were there for about 30 minutes. I call this a tie.

Happy Easter

We had a nice Easter. We were invited to Lukas'(Max's friend) for an egg hunt. It was quite funny watching Max picking up eggs and throwing them across the yard. Sometimes at the other kids. Until he discovered that there was candy in the eggs, then it became another story.

For the Grandmothers

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Garbage Disposal Dilemma

Warning: Slight embellishment.

We have a small debate in our house the other night. What can and can’t go into the garbage disposal?

Side Note: Every time I use the garbage disposal I think of Lilly Tomlin in the Incredible Shrinking Woman being stuck in the disposal with egg yolk being poured on her head and it freaks me out.

I believe that only small items should go into the garbage disposal. Such as small scrapings from a dinner plate that may consist of a few pieces of Mac and Cheese, a few peas and half chewed pineapple chunk. I also think it is okay to put semi-liquidy stuff in there like yogurt and cottage cheese.

Lauren believes there are miniature men in the garbage disposal with a wood chipper and chainsaws and that anything that will fit down there, should go into it. Egg shells, banana peels, whole heads of Cauliflower and chicken bones.

Is there some kind of rule as to what should and shouldn’t go into the garbage disposal?

Dream

"Good morning Lauren. How did you sleep?"

"Awful. I am slightly mad at you."

"Why? Was I snoring?"

"No. But I had this most awful dream about you. You were so mean to me."

"You are mad at me for a dream? What did I do?"

"You were such a jerk. In my dream you were having an affair with some woman..."

"Was she hot?"

Sams

We do some shopping at Sam’s Club for bulk stuff such as diapers, dog and cat food, litter and other various items. One of the things that really bothers me about Sam’s is the whole post-checkout-checkout.

They usually have some person standing at the exit door checking your receipt against the items in your cart. What sucks, is that the line for the post-checkout-checkout, is usually 5 times longer than the register checkout lines. I just waited ten minutes to pay for my stuff and now I have to wait even longer just to leave the store. They already have my money for crying out loud.

The Sam’s PCC person (9 out of 10 times is a blue-hair) count the items in the cart, compare it against the receipt and they use a marker or pen to put a line through the receipt. And if you have a kid with you and the PCC person is being nice they will draw a “happy face” on the receipt. Wow! A happy face receipt. I am going to frame it and put over my mantle.

If Sam’s is so worried about theft that they require to have the PCC person double check receipts they should just design the store differently. Instead of having a huge open area, with people coming and going, where they require a person to inspect the purchases, they should just build a wall. I can draw my own happy faces.

Answers

“Bill, what do you think caused those burrowing lines in the sand there?”

“A mole.”

“Really? Do you think? Those lines look a little small for a mole.”

“Moles are pretty small.”

“Not that small. I have seen moles and they are bigger than that.”

“Why do you even bother to ask me questions? Because when I give you an answer, you don’t ever believe me?”

“Because you have a tendency to make stuff up. Especially if you don’t know the answer, just so you can sound smart.”

“Okay, you got me there.”

Art of the Con

I have been teaching Maxfield a useful game. It is our version of 3 Card Monty or the Shell Game.


Look closely, he is putting the ball under the Yellow Bowl.


But by using slight of hand the ball is not under the yellow bowl.



It is under the pink one. After a few more lessons I will be taking him out on the street to hustle some tourists.

What's in a date?

I may be not the best example of a religious person, but I try. I have my beliefs and I struggle like most other people with them on a regular basis. I usually do not share my beliefs with other people unless I know them, like them, and can trust them to offer me a good “give and take” when it comes to discussing such a topic.

Our well meaning but nosey gossipy and opinionated neighbors stopped by the other night to discuss the hawk incident. They are an older (late 60's) couple, who are heavily involved in their church and take every opportunity to tell us about how wonderful and know-it-all they are. We have experienced their “Holier than thou” advice and opinions on more than 6 occasions. They like to remind us of how the people who owned the house before us were such good Christians, and would help them with their yard work and other chores. And there have been numerous times of un-solicited advice on how to raise Maxfield. Like I said, they mean well but are opinionated.

After discussing the hawk, the conversation turned towards idle chitchat. We have not spoken to them in months and they were catching up on everything that was happening with us. They were asking about how Lauren was feeling with the pregnancy and all and the of course the question of due date came up. We explained that the actual due date is June 18th but there is a slight gray area and that it could be earlier than that give or take 10 days.

It was at this point that Mrs. Neighbor said, “Oh well, the baby could be born on my birthday which is June 6th.”

“June 6th? Really? That is also Bill’s birthday.” Lauren said.

Which I responded, “Yeah. How cool would that be? Oh-six, Oh-six, Oh-six. 666. Wouldn’t that be interesting?”

Now I have said some shocking things to people in my life, either as a joke, which this was, or in all seriousness but I have never seen someone get as visibly upset as this woman did. She became quite flustered and said, “Well, then, ah, maybe that would not be such a…umm, good date. Let’s hope, uhh, umm for another date.”

I kind of felt bad for saying it but it was my mom who pointed out the possibility of this birth date to me. My mom is a religious person. She taught Sunday school for many, many years. She was a Eucharistic Minister for her church and she has volunteered countless times for many church events. She brought this joke up to me several times. She is even from the same generation as my next-door neighbor. Does my neighbor really think that a kid having that birthdate will really turn out to be evil?

I expressed to Lauren that I kind of felt bad for making the woman uncomfortable. And Lauren said, “Some people just can’t take jokes. Besides do you really care what she thinks about us?”

“No. Not really.”

“Then she can go pound sand.”

Rabbit Season, Hawk Season

Lauren was out all day on Monday. I was at work all day. When I got home the neighbor across the street came to tell me that the police were at my house for a while, around noon. I assumed that another neighbor, probably someone complaining about noise and permits due to the crew installing our screen room, called the police.

I did not think too much about it until our next-door neighbor to the left, a well meaning but somewhat nosey and opinionated couple, came to our house to tell us about what transpired.
Apparently, someone on the street behind us shot a Red Tailed Hawk and it landed and died in our backyard. The crew working on our house called the police because they heard the gunshot and saw the bird fall. The police drove around the neighborhood and asked questions of some of the neighbors but did not find anything or anyone.

What the Fuck? Someone is shooting a gun in our neighborhood? Towards my house? Seriously what the fuck is wrong with people? When I talked to the foreman on the crew of workers he told me it sounded like a .22. I have to rely on his assessment because although I have had my fair share of gunfire, I cannot tell one from the next (which is hard to do when you are in the fetal position hiding under a bar misdialing 911). Plus I was not there.

When our well meaning but somewhat nosey and opinionated neighbors were telling us the story they asked, very seriously, somewhat accusingly, like I would know the answer, “Do you know who would own a gun in our neighborhood?”

I looked at them and said, “It’s the South. Everyone owns guns. It would be easier to ask who doesn’t own one.”

It's time for school

While growing up, my 7 brothers and I always played practical jokes on each other. One of our favorites was always played upon the LawnWhisperer (John).

John was always somewhat of an anxious kid. I have to assume it was due to the fact that he was smack dab in the middle of everyone. He is number 5 of 9 so he was always pulled in all directions as far his personality. He had to carry some serious weight in our house. My parents relied on him make sure that the hand-hand-hand-hand-me-downs Tough Skins we all wore were going to make it to the younger ones. Being in the middle usually caused him to ride the “hump” (the middle seat over the drive shaft) in the car on family outings. He was considered too young to do certain things, like go to a Phillies game with the older kids. And yet, at the same time, he was considered too old to go see Pete’s dragon with the younger kids.

Anyway, John was somewhat uptight when it came to his scheduled bathroom time in the morning. Since there was only one bathroom and 9 of us trying to get ready each morning, we all had to make best use of the few minutes we were scheduled. The trick we always like to pull on LawnWhisperer was to wake him up at 2:30 in the morning and tell him it was time to go to school. He would jump out of bed, head to the bathroom and shower, brush his teeth and comb his hair without ever looking at the clock. By the time he would go to his room to get dressed he would realize that it was only 2:40 in the morning. The rest of us would sit there and laugh. We must have done this to him at least a dozen times. I am chuckling, right now writing this, just thinking about him getting ready for school 5 hours early.

I don’t know if he ever complained to my parent’s about this. If he did it probably fell on deaf ears. My parent’s were probably like “John? We have a kid named John?”

Today is LawnWhisperer's Birthday. Go and wish him well.

Flux Capacitor

I had saved an entry as a “draft” on blogger, about daylight savings time. I went to work on it again last night and realized it actually posted. I deleted it and I started over. I saved it again as a draft and figured I would complete it this morning.

Again it posted itself although I was not finished with it. So I deleted it again.

The post was about daylight savings time. Although the rest of the world loses an hour I actually gained an hour. I tried to explain this in the missing posts using some algebra and time/space theories from Back to the Future but I cannot remember now what they were.

The basic gist was I gained an hour because with the changing of the clocks, Max was now “sleeping in”. If Maxfield usually wakes up at 5:30 am, and now 5:30 is 6:30 and I still wake up at 5:30 I gained an hour. You see what I mean. I was going to try and sell my hour on Ebay. But I also asked for suggestions on what I should do with my hour.

The post got all messed up and I apologize to anyone who commented on the earlier ones that I deleted. But now instead of having an actual free hour I used it to fix the screw-up that Blogger and myself caused. Damn. I need a DeLorean to get my hour back.