Dear Dad,
I decided to take advantage of my time in the great metropolis of St. Louis and invite my wife and children to join me at the zoo. Money is always an issue in my family and I felt that the zoo was the answer to my children’s complaints of never getting to do anything. The zoo is free after all. I called my wife from my hotel and made the arrangements. I would escort the five of them through the FREE wonderland that is the St. Louis Zoo!
I stayed in St. Louis that Sunday. While my wife was getting the children ready and preparing to endure the two and a half hour car ride with four sleep deprived yet excited children, I slept in. At the last possible moment I drove the ten minutes to the zoo. There I paid eighteen dollars to park in the parking lot as opposed to seven miles away for the free pre zoo marathon so many others were partaking in. I called my wife and prepared her for the eighteen dollar lot entry she too would have to fork over.
My wife got there (late of course) and after she chewed a bit of my butt off for looking so chipper, we gathered the children and like Dorothy and her fellows we skipped into Oz hand in hand. Colton my three year old son informed me that he JUST WANTED TO SEE AN ELEPHANT!
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Cinder Man 3, No More Leftovers!
Dear Dad,
When you have children nothing lasts for long, let alone forever. Sometimes it seems as if every time I turn around something else is broken. In the summertime, when sound carries the best my neighborhood is full of dog barks, child’s yells and Fathers shouts of ‘Hey what the hell happened in here!”
When I met my wife I already had one son from my first (practice) marriage. It was this prior experience that gave me the courage to mock my wife’s nervousness. I remember when she was about six months pregnant with her first child she brought me a bunch of white plastic trinkets and doo-dads. She said she wanted me to ‘Child Proof’ the house. I looked at that young sweet innocent face, and then I laughed. I laughed hard and long until her face didn’t look so sweet anymore. Sometimes when it is quiet outside in the dark of night and the wind picks up just a little you can still hear ‘The Man’ giggle a bit. I threw the plastic latches in the trash, drove down to the local national guard armory and purchased the things I knew we would need through a contact of mine. I reinforced all the studs in the walls with solid steel beams. I put auto firing turrets by all the breakables and reinforced deadbolts on the silverware drawers. This is what experience does for you.
When you have children nothing lasts for long, let alone forever. Sometimes it seems as if every time I turn around something else is broken. In the summertime, when sound carries the best my neighborhood is full of dog barks, child’s yells and Fathers shouts of ‘Hey what the hell happened in here!”
When I met my wife I already had one son from my first (practice) marriage. It was this prior experience that gave me the courage to mock my wife’s nervousness. I remember when she was about six months pregnant with her first child she brought me a bunch of white plastic trinkets and doo-dads. She said she wanted me to ‘Child Proof’ the house. I looked at that young sweet innocent face, and then I laughed. I laughed hard and long until her face didn’t look so sweet anymore. Sometimes when it is quiet outside in the dark of night and the wind picks up just a little you can still hear ‘The Man’ giggle a bit. I threw the plastic latches in the trash, drove down to the local national guard armory and purchased the things I knew we would need through a contact of mine. I reinforced all the studs in the walls with solid steel beams. I put auto firing turrets by all the breakables and reinforced deadbolts on the silverware drawers. This is what experience does for you.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Cinder Man and the Dishwasher
Dear Dad,
My lovely wife still doesn’t believe I am always right! After years of marriage and countless offerings of proof she still insists that I am wrong from time to time. I don’t know how to resolve this issue with finality so I just continue to provide proof of my infallibility. One such opportunity presented itself with the replacing of the dishwasher. The boss suggested that I have professionals come out and take care of it for me. However since I had never before removed a dishwasher or installed one and since I wasn’t sure how the machine worked, I decided that the missus was wrong. I informed her that hiring someone to do the job would be absurd. Of course I can do it. Yes dear, I know what I am doing. No dear, you don’t have to leave the house. Of course I am not going to burn anything down. I know that is what I said about the deck last year.
My argument went on for some minutes until she was thoroughly convinced I would screw up. I believe that fixing things that seem difficult to fix is one of the few arguments a man can win resolutely. All that is needed is some raw determination, a good hardware store and a thesaurus with an adult theme to help keep your swears original. (I find that the more original swears often make spouses believe a job is much harder than it actually is thereby increasing the reward factors exponentially!)
My lovely wife still doesn’t believe I am always right! After years of marriage and countless offerings of proof she still insists that I am wrong from time to time. I don’t know how to resolve this issue with finality so I just continue to provide proof of my infallibility. One such opportunity presented itself with the replacing of the dishwasher. The boss suggested that I have professionals come out and take care of it for me. However since I had never before removed a dishwasher or installed one and since I wasn’t sure how the machine worked, I decided that the missus was wrong. I informed her that hiring someone to do the job would be absurd. Of course I can do it. Yes dear, I know what I am doing. No dear, you don’t have to leave the house. Of course I am not going to burn anything down. I know that is what I said about the deck last year.
My argument went on for some minutes until she was thoroughly convinced I would screw up. I believe that fixing things that seem difficult to fix is one of the few arguments a man can win resolutely. All that is needed is some raw determination, a good hardware store and a thesaurus with an adult theme to help keep your swears original. (I find that the more original swears often make spouses believe a job is much harder than it actually is thereby increasing the reward factors exponentially!)
Monday, October 24, 2011
Cinder Man
Dear Dad,
The ‘Honey do’ list is a document that I refer to regularly. Early in my marriage this infamous list of chores was often times full of things I wanted to do. There were Items on the list like, ‘Teach wife how to shoot pool‘, ‘Buy wife bigger television‘, or ‘Date night with wife’ and even ‘GET WIFE PREGNANT!’
Somewhere along the way though the nature of the honey do’s dramatically changed. I didn’t notice it happening at the time. The slow graduation of tasks was artfully handled by a fiendish mastermind. Even my own masterful man skills couldn’t save me every weekend from the webs spun by the chore master. The fight wore on for some time but I am beginning to think I may have lost. My skin is pasty and white, my eyes are permanently adjusted to the grey air of the garage and tool shed. When did I become this thing you may ask. I suppose if I had to narrow it down it was probably around two children ago.
The ‘Honey do’ list is a document that I refer to regularly. Early in my marriage this infamous list of chores was often times full of things I wanted to do. There were Items on the list like, ‘Teach wife how to shoot pool‘, ‘Buy wife bigger television‘, or ‘Date night with wife’ and even ‘GET WIFE PREGNANT!’
Somewhere along the way though the nature of the honey do’s dramatically changed. I didn’t notice it happening at the time. The slow graduation of tasks was artfully handled by a fiendish mastermind. Even my own masterful man skills couldn’t save me every weekend from the webs spun by the chore master. The fight wore on for some time but I am beginning to think I may have lost. My skin is pasty and white, my eyes are permanently adjusted to the grey air of the garage and tool shed. When did I become this thing you may ask. I suppose if I had to narrow it down it was probably around two children ago.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
More Spaghettio's anyone?
Dear Dad,
Early spring nineteen eighty a beautiful woman gave birth to a relatively fat baby boy. Upon realizing the sex of the child as male, and associating that realization with the fact that the said child would never himself have to endure the pain of child birth, she did what all women in similar situations do. She cursed the child. She closed her eyes and prayed that some how, some way this infant male would be troubled by his own children in the future. Of course one silent wish alone isn’t a guarantee that a curse will stick. Mothers, in their infinite wisdom know this, so over the child’s next eighteen years the hex is reapplied with every minor indiscretion the boy commits.
As you know I have given you four grandchildren. What you don’t know is that I have succeeded where most men have failed. Apart from each child’s first few weeks home I have essentially avoided the dirtier parts of fatherdom. I am certain of this fact because my wife is very good at pointing it out to me.
After so much time spent avoiding the effects of such a powerful curse, it only stands to reason that even I, ‘The Man’ would falter.
Early spring nineteen eighty a beautiful woman gave birth to a relatively fat baby boy. Upon realizing the sex of the child as male, and associating that realization with the fact that the said child would never himself have to endure the pain of child birth, she did what all women in similar situations do. She cursed the child. She closed her eyes and prayed that some how, some way this infant male would be troubled by his own children in the future. Of course one silent wish alone isn’t a guarantee that a curse will stick. Mothers, in their infinite wisdom know this, so over the child’s next eighteen years the hex is reapplied with every minor indiscretion the boy commits.
As you know I have given you four grandchildren. What you don’t know is that I have succeeded where most men have failed. Apart from each child’s first few weeks home I have essentially avoided the dirtier parts of fatherdom. I am certain of this fact because my wife is very good at pointing it out to me.
After so much time spent avoiding the effects of such a powerful curse, it only stands to reason that even I, ‘The Man’ would falter.
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