Shelf the Elf
One of the guiding principles for writers is the “rule of three.” Basically, using three examples for something tends to work better, especially in comedy. But as Mike, my oldest…
Looking for a Small Victory
As with many things I do, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
On a grocery store trip a long time ago, my wife brought home an apple-flavored trail mix, granola sort of thing from the bulk food aisle. Since I always think I have the discipline to improve myself, I took a liking to the mixture.
I never completely got hooked, however, so only had the mix periodically. From time to time, I would buy a bag of it for my snack drawer at work, only to get disappointed when I ran out.
When I remembered to get some of this treat sometime last spring, I made sure I wouldn’t run out too soon and bought a large amount. When I got home, I chose a container which could keep all of it so I could simply get small amounts to take to work in order to better ration my supply.
This is probably where I should mention that I don’t always do well with the follow through on things, especially when I don’t have a constant reminder. Since I bought a large bag of the snack on my own and put it in a container that usually sat inside a cupboard, I should have known things would end badly.
That did happen, but I found a silver lining in messing this up. I got a chance to make my wife to ever-so-briefly see my side of things on another issue.
Parking Lot Problems
I had to travel for work recently. I don’t have to do this often so it still has some novelty involved.
I have a few traditions for these trips. I try to sample as many local beers as I can. I have at least one room service dinner. And I always take good notes on where I parked my car at the airport.
I have good reason to worry about this issue. For this, like most things, I blame my brothers.
Jell-O Confession
When I made my confession, I figured I would end up as the bad guy in the scenario. It turns out that I had completely misjudged the situation.
My daughter made a special request for one of my wife’s recent trips to the grocery store. Bridget wanted Jell-O, like any good American kid does. So a four-pack of Jell-O cups ended up in our refrigerator.
As things sometimes happen, they sat there for a few days. She asked for them and got them, but had moved on to other snacks in the house. I totally get it. My brain works that way sometimes too.
When I needed a snack for my lunch at work one day, I spied the fruity treat and decided to open the pack. I knew I might suffer the wrath of an angry teenager, but figured I stood on solid ground here. She had her chance for the first crack at them and passed. Besides, she could easily claim the other three once I had my fix.
Who Am I?
Sometimes I wonder what I have become. I still think I have my usual fun outlook on life most of the time, but come across moments where I don’t recognize myself.
That happened recently when I had one of those special opportunities I get a few times each year. My wife and daughter went away for a few days, and I had the house to myself.
I miss them terribly when this happens, but I also enjoy playing “single guy” in the house for 48 hours or so.
They left to visit friends on Monday morning, and the entire work day consisted of me looking at the clock and wondering what kind of fun I would create when I got home.
But when I got there, nothing happened.
Well, not nothing, but nothing of consequence. I exercised, had a nice dinner and then pretty much just chilled out before going to bed at a decent hour. I even resisted one of the siren songs of being home alone and slept without the TV on all night.
I seriously don’t know what’s wrong with me.
Bingo!
I had an idea several years ago. I wanted to go to every local carnival and make up a t-shirt with the information about each one like a rock tour shirt.
That plan fell apart for two reasons – my daughter and I saw our carnival attendance diminish, and I’m lazy.
We just had too much going on to get to many carnivals anymore. When she was little, those trips filled the gaps on Saturday nights when my wife worked.
With fewer free weekends (and fewer carnivals- another bummer), my genius t-shirt idea faded away.
I thought of all this recently as we headed to the Delone carnival. Bridget wanted to go with a friend, so Maria and I went along for the ride.
When we arrived, I realized we had entered a new era of carnival attendance. No longer would we walk around and watch from outside the kiddie rides. We needed to entertain ourselves while the girls walked around.
Getting something to eat only killed so much time. We had no intention of going on any rides, especially since it was drizzling. We had to come up with something.
Bingo.
Look at the Brightside
At some point, I will get used to the scene. I hope I don’t, however.
This thought ran through my head late on a Saturday night as I jumped up and down and sang “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers at the top of my lungs. I also attempted to catch the moment on video at the same time.
I haven’t turned over a new leaf and started to attend dance clubs. I merely went to a family wedding, an event where we celebrate the union of a wonderful couple by dancing and singing a song about jealousy and paranoia to close out the night.
Street Kayaking
When I woke up last Friday, I knew we had a problem on our hands. The morning of our last full day at the beach brought a whole lot of rain.
We had already weathered the storm – literally. The rain came the day before as well, but we filled the time with crafts, Bingo and a group viewing of “Sharknado.”
I didn’t know what another rainy day would bring, however. We got very lucky with some incredible weather to start the week, and, in reality, we have had great weather for a number of years straight.
But what’s a group of close to 50 family members to do when the weather turns sour – really sour – on vacation?
Kayak in the street, that’s what.
Popcorn Time Machine
The topic of older technology comes up in our house once in a while. That usually leads to my daughter laughing.
But one thing from a bygone era which does not result in chuckling is the many ways you can make popcorn.
One of our family traditions revolves around making popcorn when we settle in to watch a movie. These nights have increased in frequency lately as we have decided to introduce our tween to some classic films from the 1980s.
Usually, the snack preparation for movie night involved my daughter tossing a bag of popcorn into the microwave, filling up a few baskets, and then taking the one with the most popcorn for herself.
Things changed one night recently when I had other plans on movie night. For some reason, they decided to eschew modern popping technology and make popcorn on the stove. I guess the possibility of tastier popcorn overrode the desire to mock the past.
That led to a discussion about making popcorn when my wife and I were growing up. I said I didn’t really remember stovetop popcorn that much, but I did remember the magic of the air popper. Before I knew it, my wife went down to the basement and brought up the air popper she took to college.
Hidden Presents
On Christmas morning, I tried to keep everything as normal as possible.
We get up, open presents and enjoy our annual treat of mini powdered donuts. But, at some point, I may have wanted to sneak off to each room in the house to see if I missed a special present.
My wife would never keep a present from me. But, as she knows all too well, I carry many scars from my younger days. One Christmas, my family tried to hide an awesome present from me.