Until I BLOG again...picture this.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Swimmin pools, movie stars
Right about now (funk show brother) I'm blogging from here. No shit. Me and My Lovely Bride are on a short holiday while the Boy(s) are staying with Granny and Pops in Houston Town. It is a win win as they say. My Bride is actually down in the spa now, paying people to much money to cut her toe nails. I think they paint them too. Maybe massage her feet. I told her I'd do it for a six pack. She declined. So, here I sit, in my fancy room, drinking Sierra Nevada Pale Ale that (proving just how WT I truly am) I brown bagged into the Beverly Hills Hotel (swill beer is like $6 bucks a can from the mini-bar), and proving, yet again, you can take the Boy out of Oklahoma, but you can't take...well you know the rest.
Until I BLOG again...picture this.
Until I BLOG again...picture this.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
The universe will have its way
About a moon ago, my Lovely Bride was down with some nasty bug. Wanting to step up and try to help more than normal (not that I'm that much help normally) I decided to go grocery shopping for the Team. And not only was I going to go grocery shopping, I was going to take the Elder Boy with me. Damn. I rock, or so I thought. Stupid ego. Clouding the fact that my Lovely Bride rarely takes either Boy with her to shop, unless absolutely necessary. You'd think that I would remember one of the many stories she has told me about the Boy(s) at the grocery store. Nope. I'm an idiot.
So full of myself and my quest to do good, I didn't stop to think my decision through. I guess my Lovely Bride was to sick to warn me. She offered up nothing more than some guidelines on the shopping list and and with a sly grin wished me well on my shopping trip. I figured the grin was her way of showing gratitude for me taking Ethan and doing the grocery shopping which would let her have some peace and quiet in the casa (The Little Warrior was in golden slumbers, as it was his nap time.) Wrong. If anyone knows what an idiot I truly am, it is My Lovely Bride.
I should have known I was in trouble at the get go, as soon as I got our shopping cart out of the corral of carts. The Elder Boy ran to the front of said cart, and hopped onto it. Only he was on the outside of the cart, standing on the under carriage thingy and holding onto the basket, facing me. He looked sort of like a backasswards hood ornament. The whole thing was made even more precarious by the fact that he had some sort of gimme toy crap clutched in his right hand. So he was really riding on the front of the cart, outside of the basket, holding on with one hand. Not real safe. I was going to tell him to get down and come back and walk with me, when he busted out a toothy smile. He was ready, but was I? I couldn't let him ride on the front like that, could I? I thought about getting one one of those novelty shopping carts that are shaped like race cars and/or animals. He might dig that? But what about me? I'd feel like a complete tool pushing one of those things around. Plus, they're real big. I'd probably have trouble navigating the aisles. And, not only would I feel silly, and have trouble driving the cart, there wasn't a good place near the front for the list. That sealed the deal. Because I need a place for the list because I'm really, really into crossing things off of it. So, in the end, I decided to cave. Not fight the battle. Still, safety was, and is a concern so I said, "Boy, be sure and hang on tight, I don't want you falling off and hurting yourself." Father of the year. That's me.
Daggers. From the get go, five steps into the store, on my way to the dairy aisle, every female that saw me, gave me the most, evil, you dip shit man, why are you letting your child hang onto the front of the cart while you push it, look. It was cold. I was about to stop and get the Boy to dismount, and come around back with me, but damn, he was having so much fun. I said, screw it, and we rolled onto the dairy section to check some things of the list.
We were cooking for awhile too. I was thinking about how much I rocked, and how much fun me and the Elder Boy were having as we rolled into the cereal aisle. Sweet mother of all that is good. The Elder Boy was like an alcoholic in a liquor store. His lust for sugar was so great that he actually dismounted from the cart, as he gazed longingly at his favorite pimps of sugar. Tony the Tiger. That Crazy Rabbit. And that red headed bastard with the charms, Lucky. Before I could stop him, the Boy had grabbed three boxes of cereal and threw them in the cart. Looking at the list I knew I didn't need three boxes of cereal. Only one, and even worse (for me) it was a knock off Honey Cheerio brand of cereal, meaning no fun box with a free toy and that Bee. This wasn't going to be fun.
Let's just say it didn't go real good. After a lengthy and tense discussion, we left the cereal aisle (with Ethan back on his front of shopping cart perch) with what we came for, our proper box of knock-off Honey Cheerios. Sure, I felt somewhat shaken by the battle, and the fact that I had to promise the Boy a gum ball when we left the Kroger. Still, life is about compromises, right? AND, I was able to cross another item off the list.
Things went fairly well for the next few aisles. I let Ethan pick out a few items which he dug. It was after selecting Spider Man Macaroni and Cheese that we were stopped by our next mishap. As the Elder Boy was remounting his precarious perch on the front of the cart, he lost his grip on his gimme toy which fell onto the floor. Ethan, literally dove after it, deflecting it with his hand, which knocked it underneath one of the giant shelves that house all the food items. That's when the Elder Boy lost it. Bad. There he was, laying across the length of the aisle, wailing. He was also holding up traffic, sort of like a gigantic human speed bump. One of the evil (looking at me) women was trying to get by us, so there I was dragging the Boy by one arm, out of the way so she could get by, while she shot more mean looks my way. I wanted to smack her. But, I had other things to do, like get the Boy back on his front of the cart perch and myself down on the grocery store floor to try and find the gimme toy. Sweet Mother of all that is good, I found it, in the next aisle. So, me and the Boy made a made dash out of that aisle into the next and retrieved the gimme toy. Daddy saves the day. Happy days are here again. We're back on track. A few more checks off the list... That's when the Boy looked at me, and said, "Dad, I need to go the bathroom."
Sweet mother of all that is good. The bathroom? My first thought. He's messing with me. That this was some sort of leverage to get another gum ball, or candy, or something out of me. The bathroom? Does the grocery store even have a bathroom? I was stumped, which led to me doing what I often do when I'm confused on what to do, I repeated what was asked in the form of a question, "You need to go the bathroom?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
See, I am an idiot. That's what I was thinking, when I noticed that the Boy wasn't doing his Michael Jackson crotch hold which means he needs to pee. Oh no. Maybe he isn't grabbing his crotch because he has a gimme toy in his right hand, and is holding onto the cart with the left. That's it. Maybe. Please?
"Ethan, do you need to pee..."
"No, I need to poop."
"Shit!" I thought and actually said, in front of my Boy in a busy aisle of the grocery store. If I had been a bystander, watching the crazy Stu and Ethan show, I would have offered up a witty, "literally." But I got nothing from the ladies around us, well, except their cold hard mean looks of disapproval because of the un-safe manner the Elder Boy was riding in the cart.
"Can you hold it until we get home," I pleaded, "We're almost done." Which was a lie. "Wouldn't you rather poop at home in your own bathroom? If you just hold it..." That's when the Boy hopped down from his perch, in front of an oncoming shopping cart, and said, "Dad, I need to poop bad." If that wasn't bad enough, he decided to punctuate how bad, by doing a reverse Michael Jackson crotch grab. You know, grabbing his butt instead of his crotch, I guess, to hold in the poop? Shit.
As I raced through Kroger, trying to locate the bathroom (which is up front by the self check-out thingys) I got even more evil looks than I had earlier. I guess it was because I was pushing the cart so fast with the Elder Boy perched up front, holding on with one hand, and clutching his ass with the other? It did look sort of dangerous, I'll give you that, but I didn't have time to worry about that, I was more concerned with Ethan crapping in his pants at the grocery store. Not to mention what I was going to do about our cart which was full of stuff. A lot of the stuff was the kind that needed refrigeration and could melt or go bad.
I had no idea what to do. I figured I couldn't take the shopping cart into the bathroom. I also couldn't let the Elder Boy go into the bathroom by himself, as he needed my help. I decided to jettison the cart by the bathroom door, and hoped that the Kroger people would realize that the cart owner was in the shitter and not restock our stuff. To help my cause, I decided to leave my pen and the list in the cart. Figuring this would make the cart look more occupied, than simply abandoned.
Sweet mother of all that is good, how can a bathroom at a grocery store, a place that sells food, be so foul. I know I'm germ phobic and all, but really, to quote the The Little Warrior's new favorite phrase, "Yukky!"
So, there I knelt, on the grimy floor of a stall at the Kroger, helping Ethan balance on the big toilet so he wouldn't fall into the bowl. Ethan is great at using the bathroom by himself at home, with his kid seat and his special wipes. But, on a normal size toilet and with industrial size toilet paper, he needs some assistance. So there I was, pulling toilet paper off the gi-nourmous toilet paper roll to wipe his butt. Only one problem. That toilet paper they use sucks. It is shit, which is what I found on my fingers as I tried to wipe the Boy. If that wasn't bad enough, once I got him wiped, I had shit on my right hand so I couldn't properly help him get his pants up and buttoned. So there we were, E walking though the bathroom with his pants half down, and me, his goofy Dad, with shit all over his right hand.
Back at the cart, after multiple hand washings for both me and the Boy, I noted that our food was in pretty good shape. Nothing looked bad, or to melted. And, it was still there. That was a big plus. I figured I could salvage this shopping excursion, as I glanced at my watch notingthat we'd been gone for over an hour. That wasn't to bad. I figured we could knock the rest out pretty fast, if I hurried, which would have us out of the house for a couple hours. We'd be getting home right around the time the Little Warrior usually gets up from his nap. I should also still have time to get home and put everything up and cook dinner. I was feeling good. The Elder Boy was back on his perch. We were ready steady go...or so I thought.
That's when I noticed that the list was gone. Seriously. What the...? At first I thought it must have fallen on the floor, or in the basket. Wrong. Multiple searches left me listless. Are you kidding me? I guess someone walked by, saw the pen (which the list was attached) and decided to take it. Now, I'd normally find that funny, in a karma sort of way. You see, Dear Reader, I was bad about taking pens in my youth. I once even tried to cop a cool pen from the wedding guest book of one of my best friends. His Mother-In-Law busted me. Believe me, that story was told many a time. So, if anyone deserved to have a pen stolen, it was me. I was ok with that. What I wasn't ok with was that they took the list too?
So there I stood in front of Kroger. Cart full of stuff, that was melting. Elder Boy perched on the front of the cart. Mean ladies walking by and giving me evil looks for the way the Elder Boy is riding the cart. Listless. Sweet mother of all that is good. I was lost. I'm an idiot. Sensing my dejection, the Elder Boy reached out to me, "Dad," He said.
"Yes...son."
"Are you mad? What's wrong."
"Grrrrrrrrrrrr." That's my bear noise in lieu of cursing, feel free to fill in the blank with a curse word. "Yes, I'm mad. Someone took our pen, and it had our shopping list, and now, I'm not sure...Grrrrrrrrrrrrr." I couldn't finish, I was so bitter.
"It's OK Dad."
I was thinking how nice it was for the Elder Boy to realize I was mad, and having a hard time, and to reach out and try to help me through it. But, as you should remember from the get go of this BLOG entry, I'm an idiot. Because a second later the Boy said, "Dad,"
"Yes."
"Can I have that gumball now."
"Grrrrrrrrrrrr!"
I'm an idiot.
Until I BLOG again...to powerful to master.
So full of myself and my quest to do good, I didn't stop to think my decision through. I guess my Lovely Bride was to sick to warn me. She offered up nothing more than some guidelines on the shopping list and and with a sly grin wished me well on my shopping trip. I figured the grin was her way of showing gratitude for me taking Ethan and doing the grocery shopping which would let her have some peace and quiet in the casa (The Little Warrior was in golden slumbers, as it was his nap time.) Wrong. If anyone knows what an idiot I truly am, it is My Lovely Bride.
I should have known I was in trouble at the get go, as soon as I got our shopping cart out of the corral of carts. The Elder Boy ran to the front of said cart, and hopped onto it. Only he was on the outside of the cart, standing on the under carriage thingy and holding onto the basket, facing me. He looked sort of like a backasswards hood ornament. The whole thing was made even more precarious by the fact that he had some sort of gimme toy crap clutched in his right hand. So he was really riding on the front of the cart, outside of the basket, holding on with one hand. Not real safe. I was going to tell him to get down and come back and walk with me, when he busted out a toothy smile. He was ready, but was I? I couldn't let him ride on the front like that, could I? I thought about getting one one of those novelty shopping carts that are shaped like race cars and/or animals. He might dig that? But what about me? I'd feel like a complete tool pushing one of those things around. Plus, they're real big. I'd probably have trouble navigating the aisles. And, not only would I feel silly, and have trouble driving the cart, there wasn't a good place near the front for the list. That sealed the deal. Because I need a place for the list because I'm really, really into crossing things off of it. So, in the end, I decided to cave. Not fight the battle. Still, safety was, and is a concern so I said, "Boy, be sure and hang on tight, I don't want you falling off and hurting yourself." Father of the year. That's me.
Daggers. From the get go, five steps into the store, on my way to the dairy aisle, every female that saw me, gave me the most, evil, you dip shit man, why are you letting your child hang onto the front of the cart while you push it, look. It was cold. I was about to stop and get the Boy to dismount, and come around back with me, but damn, he was having so much fun. I said, screw it, and we rolled onto the dairy section to check some things of the list.
We were cooking for awhile too. I was thinking about how much I rocked, and how much fun me and the Elder Boy were having as we rolled into the cereal aisle. Sweet mother of all that is good. The Elder Boy was like an alcoholic in a liquor store. His lust for sugar was so great that he actually dismounted from the cart, as he gazed longingly at his favorite pimps of sugar. Tony the Tiger. That Crazy Rabbit. And that red headed bastard with the charms, Lucky. Before I could stop him, the Boy had grabbed three boxes of cereal and threw them in the cart. Looking at the list I knew I didn't need three boxes of cereal. Only one, and even worse (for me) it was a knock off Honey Cheerio brand of cereal, meaning no fun box with a free toy and that Bee. This wasn't going to be fun.
Let's just say it didn't go real good. After a lengthy and tense discussion, we left the cereal aisle (with Ethan back on his front of shopping cart perch) with what we came for, our proper box of knock-off Honey Cheerios. Sure, I felt somewhat shaken by the battle, and the fact that I had to promise the Boy a gum ball when we left the Kroger. Still, life is about compromises, right? AND, I was able to cross another item off the list.
Things went fairly well for the next few aisles. I let Ethan pick out a few items which he dug. It was after selecting Spider Man Macaroni and Cheese that we were stopped by our next mishap. As the Elder Boy was remounting his precarious perch on the front of the cart, he lost his grip on his gimme toy which fell onto the floor. Ethan, literally dove after it, deflecting it with his hand, which knocked it underneath one of the giant shelves that house all the food items. That's when the Elder Boy lost it. Bad. There he was, laying across the length of the aisle, wailing. He was also holding up traffic, sort of like a gigantic human speed bump. One of the evil (looking at me) women was trying to get by us, so there I was dragging the Boy by one arm, out of the way so she could get by, while she shot more mean looks my way. I wanted to smack her. But, I had other things to do, like get the Boy back on his front of the cart perch and myself down on the grocery store floor to try and find the gimme toy. Sweet Mother of all that is good, I found it, in the next aisle. So, me and the Boy made a made dash out of that aisle into the next and retrieved the gimme toy. Daddy saves the day. Happy days are here again. We're back on track. A few more checks off the list... That's when the Boy looked at me, and said, "Dad, I need to go the bathroom."
Sweet mother of all that is good. The bathroom? My first thought. He's messing with me. That this was some sort of leverage to get another gum ball, or candy, or something out of me. The bathroom? Does the grocery store even have a bathroom? I was stumped, which led to me doing what I often do when I'm confused on what to do, I repeated what was asked in the form of a question, "You need to go the bathroom?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
See, I am an idiot. That's what I was thinking, when I noticed that the Boy wasn't doing his Michael Jackson crotch hold which means he needs to pee. Oh no. Maybe he isn't grabbing his crotch because he has a gimme toy in his right hand, and is holding onto the cart with the left. That's it. Maybe. Please?
"Ethan, do you need to pee..."
"No, I need to poop."
"Shit!" I thought and actually said, in front of my Boy in a busy aisle of the grocery store. If I had been a bystander, watching the crazy Stu and Ethan show, I would have offered up a witty, "literally." But I got nothing from the ladies around us, well, except their cold hard mean looks of disapproval because of the un-safe manner the Elder Boy was riding in the cart.
"Can you hold it until we get home," I pleaded, "We're almost done." Which was a lie. "Wouldn't you rather poop at home in your own bathroom? If you just hold it..." That's when the Boy hopped down from his perch, in front of an oncoming shopping cart, and said, "Dad, I need to poop bad." If that wasn't bad enough, he decided to punctuate how bad, by doing a reverse Michael Jackson crotch grab. You know, grabbing his butt instead of his crotch, I guess, to hold in the poop? Shit.
As I raced through Kroger, trying to locate the bathroom (which is up front by the self check-out thingys) I got even more evil looks than I had earlier. I guess it was because I was pushing the cart so fast with the Elder Boy perched up front, holding on with one hand, and clutching his ass with the other? It did look sort of dangerous, I'll give you that, but I didn't have time to worry about that, I was more concerned with Ethan crapping in his pants at the grocery store. Not to mention what I was going to do about our cart which was full of stuff. A lot of the stuff was the kind that needed refrigeration and could melt or go bad.
I had no idea what to do. I figured I couldn't take the shopping cart into the bathroom. I also couldn't let the Elder Boy go into the bathroom by himself, as he needed my help. I decided to jettison the cart by the bathroom door, and hoped that the Kroger people would realize that the cart owner was in the shitter and not restock our stuff. To help my cause, I decided to leave my pen and the list in the cart. Figuring this would make the cart look more occupied, than simply abandoned.
Sweet mother of all that is good, how can a bathroom at a grocery store, a place that sells food, be so foul. I know I'm germ phobic and all, but really, to quote the The Little Warrior's new favorite phrase, "Yukky!"
So, there I knelt, on the grimy floor of a stall at the Kroger, helping Ethan balance on the big toilet so he wouldn't fall into the bowl. Ethan is great at using the bathroom by himself at home, with his kid seat and his special wipes. But, on a normal size toilet and with industrial size toilet paper, he needs some assistance. So there I was, pulling toilet paper off the gi-nourmous toilet paper roll to wipe his butt. Only one problem. That toilet paper they use sucks. It is shit, which is what I found on my fingers as I tried to wipe the Boy. If that wasn't bad enough, once I got him wiped, I had shit on my right hand so I couldn't properly help him get his pants up and buttoned. So there we were, E walking though the bathroom with his pants half down, and me, his goofy Dad, with shit all over his right hand.
Back at the cart, after multiple hand washings for both me and the Boy, I noted that our food was in pretty good shape. Nothing looked bad, or to melted. And, it was still there. That was a big plus. I figured I could salvage this shopping excursion, as I glanced at my watch notingthat we'd been gone for over an hour. That wasn't to bad. I figured we could knock the rest out pretty fast, if I hurried, which would have us out of the house for a couple hours. We'd be getting home right around the time the Little Warrior usually gets up from his nap. I should also still have time to get home and put everything up and cook dinner. I was feeling good. The Elder Boy was back on his perch. We were ready steady go...or so I thought.
That's when I noticed that the list was gone. Seriously. What the...? At first I thought it must have fallen on the floor, or in the basket. Wrong. Multiple searches left me listless. Are you kidding me? I guess someone walked by, saw the pen (which the list was attached) and decided to take it. Now, I'd normally find that funny, in a karma sort of way. You see, Dear Reader, I was bad about taking pens in my youth. I once even tried to cop a cool pen from the wedding guest book of one of my best friends. His Mother-In-Law busted me. Believe me, that story was told many a time. So, if anyone deserved to have a pen stolen, it was me. I was ok with that. What I wasn't ok with was that they took the list too?
So there I stood in front of Kroger. Cart full of stuff, that was melting. Elder Boy perched on the front of the cart. Mean ladies walking by and giving me evil looks for the way the Elder Boy is riding the cart. Listless. Sweet mother of all that is good. I was lost. I'm an idiot. Sensing my dejection, the Elder Boy reached out to me, "Dad," He said.
"Yes...son."
"Are you mad? What's wrong."
"Grrrrrrrrrrrr." That's my bear noise in lieu of cursing, feel free to fill in the blank with a curse word. "Yes, I'm mad. Someone took our pen, and it had our shopping list, and now, I'm not sure...Grrrrrrrrrrrrr." I couldn't finish, I was so bitter.
"It's OK Dad."
I was thinking how nice it was for the Elder Boy to realize I was mad, and having a hard time, and to reach out and try to help me through it. But, as you should remember from the get go of this BLOG entry, I'm an idiot. Because a second later the Boy said, "Dad,"
"Yes."
"Can I have that gumball now."
"Grrrrrrrrrrrr!"
I'm an idiot.
Until I BLOG again...to powerful to master.
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