(Feet Don’t Fail Me Now…)
The most powerful people in the world are nothing more than spoiled, rotten, and little bratty children. So Sad.
Ice cream, eaten late at night, without anyone knowing, tastes the best. It’s a scientific fact. Look it up.
Today is the 81st Anniversary of D-Day.
(We’re all excited, but we don’t know why…)
I love my dog. I always thought of myself as a cat person, but once we got the dog… well, I’m still a cat guy, but I do want to have a dog from here on out. And loving my dog, means loving all of her, including the bad stuff that she does. Which is very little, I might add. What the dog does that drives us nuts, and we haven’t been able to get her to stop, is that the dog goes ape-shit anytime she sees another dog. Like growling, and barking, and trying to break free from the leash so she can go and kill that other dog. It can make taking her for a walk a very challenging endeavor. Anyway, so when we take the dog to the groomers, the dog does her normal stuff when she sees the other dogs getting groomed, she goes bananas. So, we leave her, and when we come back to the groomers, they tell us how great of a dog she was; so kind, nice, and friendly. And we’ll ask if our dog was this nice version, even when other dogs were around, and the groomers tells us yes; that our dog was even friendly to the other dogs. This has happened enough times over the past five years, that I have come down to one of two conclusions; the groomers are telling us lies because no one wants to hear that their dog is an asshole, or our dog puts on this tough act in front of other dogs only when we’re around.
My mother was a very proper woman. You had to really make her mad to swear, and she did embarrass easy. Yet, she raised three boys, and there was a lot of farting. BUT, my mother never said the word fart. No, that would be most improper. As she was raised in a French-American home, she did bring one, and only one, French term into our lives; péter. (That’s French for fart.) For the first several years of my life, I thought everyone also used the word péter. When I got to school, I learned quickly that no one used this word. Yet, the tern stuck with me, and in honor of my French heritage, I have made sure that my daughter knows that péter means fart in French.
And, I want ice cream for dinner.
(The past wasn’t that good, and the future isn’t that bad…)
Though I hate to admit this, I think it is time to say out loud that Tottenham will not make it to the Champions League next season. Ange Postecoglou has done a very good job with turning the team around and stopping the slide to a middle of the table team. And this was going to be a hard season, as it was the first without Harry Kane. But with 7 points behind Aston Villa, and matches against Liverpool and Man City yet to come, the odds are severely stacked against the team. No Champions League for next season, but there will be a birth in the Europa League. But hey, this was a better year, and next year will have extra competition, and more chances for trophies.
Not on purpose, but I roundabout took the month of April off when it came to submitting stories. But I am coming back for the month of May. I’ve sent out four submissions thus far, and in the back of my head, I have a good feeling that I accidently messed up on somebody’s submission guidelines. Like, I didn’t put the page number in the correct corner. One time, I sent out a story and misspelled the editor’s name in the cover letter. Yeah, there’s no coming back from that.
And it is true, ice cream does make everything better. Are you having an awful day? Have some ice cream. It won’t solve any problems, but it does make you feel better. And out of all the wonderful joys and experiences I have had with becoming a father, getting ice cream with my daughter is damn near one of the best.
(It’s miles away…)
The kid went to the dentist yesterday. Luckily, she enjoys going, so we never had to deal with any anxiety with people poking her teeth. And we’ve been seeing this dentist for three years now, so we know each other and they have a solid file on the kid. In fact, at some point, the kid told them that she wanted to be a dentist, which they added to her file, and was brought up immediately as soon as she sat in the chair. I’m not sure if that is still a goal of hers, but everyone there thought it was awesome that there was a kid that wanted to be one of them. Or maybe they’re all really nice to all the kids…
I bought an air conditioner from a big box retailer who I’m not naming as of yet. It is a super nice and fancy window unit that we had to budget for, but we were due for an upgrade. Anyway, it was promised to be delivered today, but when I check their website, my delivery status has not advanced beyond “order received.” It is a bit troubling as we still have to get through the “shipped” and “out for delivery” stage with only 11 1/2 hours until estimated received time expires. This is going to be in the back of my mind all day today… (UPDATE: I received an email and a text message from the retailer saying that the delivery date has changed. The text said the a/c is coming on Monday, while the email says today…)
Serving Suggestion: Vanilla ice cream in a bowl, topped with Reese’s Magic Shell, then topped on that with crushed up Reese’s Cereal. Enjoy!
(Our Brand means Quality…)
I’m in my mid-forties, and I have never been a stylish person. In fact, my “style” has barely evolved beyond what I wore in high school: jeans, tee-shirt, over shirt, All-Stars. When I was working in an office, I held on to a sort of American/Ivy style of khakis, button-down, plaid tie, sports coat, and (depending on my mood) All-Stars. Since my move to stay-at-home-dad I have cannibalized my clothing a put on a mismatch of casual and casual work clothing. What that means is one day could be a tee-shirt, while the next is a button-down, and on another I might put on a sports coat. But I noticed something today, and it’s that I have started putting on running shoes as my go-to footwear now. Also, I have started lounging around the apartment in workout clothes – you know, with elastic waist bands. I think I might be slowly de-evolving into comfy clothes most of the time.
Halloween is coming and we are all looking to figure out what our costume will be this year. My daughter has a very specific idea that she is looking to execute, and I will not be the one to ruin her surprise. That leaves the wife, me and the dog. We really wanted to do a family theme. A long time ago, the kid went as Dee Snider from Twisted Sister, and we were her roadies. We all loved it, but we haven’t worked together on a united costume since. Last year, I pushed very hard for us to be the Beastie Boys from the “Intergalactic” video, but I got no takers. This year, I think we should go as Willie Nelson, but in different periods of his career. Like, the wife would do young Willie, and I would be old Willie, and the dog would be middle of the career Willie. I don’t know if you know this, but having grown up in Texas, we are required to dress up as Willie for at least one Halloween.
Ice Cream solves all problems. Seriously, try it.
