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The things in my head go ’round and ’round

This is my life. You can’t have it.

Archive for the ‘kids’


The Things in My Head – Wednesday.

The things in my head today:

The youngest son telling me that on Thursday he is going to be jumping out of an airplane.

For the fun of it.

And paying $170 for the privilege.

What am I going to do with that boy?

Here is the company that he is paying to kick him out of a plane.

I have a well deserved week end off this coming Saturday, and Sunday. And of course rain is in the forecast. I am not digging on that at all. How can I nap in the hammock if it is raining?

The things in my head want this hammock

We are going to North Carolina this year for vacation. I am thinking of investing in a camping hammock so that I won’t go through hammock deprivation while we are down there. Hammocks, along with beer, are Gods way of telling us he loves us.

At least that is my story.

Where are you going on vacation this year? Or are the gas prices going to keep you closer to home?

Let us know.

The Perfect Car

Pierce, the youngest son, is always talking to me about cars. He has not had the best of luck with vehicles. His first was a Ford Ranger. That promptly broke down and cost him a bunch of cash. His next vehicle was a geo priszm. Also known in our family as “The Car That Won’t Die”. It is a 1992 or 1993 geo that has been in MLW’s family since that time. And it won’t die. The engine in it is as strong as the one in my Tacoma.

Now the boy owns a Tiberon. Loves it. But I called him the other day to tell him that I had found the perfect car for him.

A 1979 Checker Motors Company Marathon. Yeah, that’s right. An old Checker cab. It is perfect as the boy lives outside of Detroit. The car is built like a tank, runs off of a small block V-8, and has a huge back seat for all of the kids he is always hanging out with. He can also charge fares from all of his free-loading friends.

I like this idea.

Him? Not so much. Kids just don’t have the vision that their parents do.

Namaste.

Not acting my age

I am a piece of work.

By my own admission. Given the chance, I would have my hair down to my ass with a beard to match. Unfortunately work gets in the way. It is rather difficult running a cash register when you have to keep tossing your beard over your shoulder.

And not everyone is understanding when they come across a long hair in their freshly ground hamburger.

Which is another question. After 28 years in retail food, I still don’t know why they call ground beef “hamburger”, or “hamburg”. There is no pork in it. It is only beef.

Whatever.

Driving up to the school the other night to pick up The Princess from her last volleyball game, I whipped the truck into a parking place and sat back to watch the parents. You have the Mom’s with their cutesy cars who are always talking on their phones. You have the Mom’s with their vans who are always staring off into space. And you have the Dad’s with their humungoid vehicles that could be used for world dominiation.

And then you have my faded red 12 year old Toyota with a stereo that is worth more than the truck. Blasting out Linkin Park.

Not many of the parents talk to me.

I think that I like it like that.

Namaste.

I hate Candyland

Yes, you read that right.

I hate the game “Candyland” with a passion that I reserve for clowns. It is a game that had to have been torn, ripped from some sick individuals sick, sick, sick mind.

I talk of this demon game because of something I was reading this morning. I have a couple of writers that I read on a consistent basis, and Lindsay Ferrier of Suburban Turmoil is one of them. She wrote a piece on playing Candyland with her daughter. Brought back way too many bad memories of playing the same game with The Princess.

Candyland was the first game where The Princess learned how to cheat. I would like to think that the developers of the game didn’t have that as part of their plan, but I think that every kid has learned how to cheat playing this hideous game.

Enough of this. Just thinking about it is making my nervous.

Namaste.

The Deadliest Season

Not to be mistaken with “The Deadliest Catch” on Discovery.

This season is the Prom, and Graduation season for our kids, and us. According to folks who gather information out there, more kids are killed in automobile accidents in June, July, and August than any other time.

During this time our kids have the most time on their hands. They are traveling with their friends going to and from shopping, movies, amusement parks, work. And the more time they spend behind the wheel, the more danger they are in.

Scary words, and I am trying to scare you. Now is the time to be talking to your kids about drinking and driving. About not riding with someone who has been drinking, or taking drugs. Tell your kids to call you, tell them that they are more precious to you than a couple of hours of sleep. Tell them that you won’t make a big deal about it at the time. That can wait until later.

Tell them you love them, and you want them safe.

Make this vacation season a time they will never forget. Not one that you wish you could.

Namaste.