So I’m observing my older sons soccer practice, and everyone there is mellow, but over on another field is a baseball game of little kids.
Here’s what I learned (based on parental reactions):
1. Jonny didn’t get enough field time “you prick” – said one parent to the coach.
2. Joshua sucks as catcher.
3. Cindy, the one girl on the team, needed to keep running to third “for Chrissake!”
4. The twins, Caleb and Isaac, aren’t going to get pizza after the game because they “didn’t give it their all, and I’m very disappointed in you….is that what we talked about in the car? Huh? Quitters?”
5. Bad call by the ref. I could do better than that…. – said every parent.
6. That one kid is too old to be on the team…”He’s too big…since when did they let sixteen year old’s play on the twelve year old team….that’s bullshit!”
7. Gaylen ducked when the ball came flying at him, preventing a concussion, but “could’ve got that one, bud!”
8. People swear ALOT. Even the guy with the ponytail and the tie dyed “Peace” tee shirt.
9. Tim’s dad missed a good play by his son because he was looking at something on his cellphone.
So we are all at a pretty expensive Indian restaurant waiting for our basmati rice, chicken curry, and all the other spicy stuff my kids won’t eat (they didn’t have mac n cheese or chicken tenders…I know, why did we bring them, right? Well, because, one, our babysitter cancelled at the last minute; two, sometimes they can handle it; and three, I didn’t feel like cancelling the hard won reservation just to go to Chuck-E-Cheese and watch a giant rat greet all my kids before they go spend tokens on stupid games for prizes like a pencil that has ‘Eat Chuck E Cheese’ printed on it).
When the naan was brought out, my oldest son wanted to know where the “normal” bread was, and when I said it was at home and that this was normal for this restaurant, he got all “pre-teen attitude” on me, the little snot.
Meanwhile, my youngest one said he’s eat the naan, because he likes bread that somebody stepped on……
So my four year old, who doesn’t have a contract and doesn’t receive a paycheck, had to play his scheduled tee ball game where everybody wins and no one gets out – last Saturday- in the rain….with a muddy wet field.
The “league” wouldn’t cancel it since it wasn’t a dangerous thunderstorm….
Cuz they care, I s’pose…..
My son already knows that as a competitive game, it’s bogus. He asks me why he can’t run to second base after a big hit where the fielder, another four year old on the opposite team, is caught facing away from the plate and watching a plane fly overhead. …they fly low cuz we have a field next to our international airport…MSP…hey…even I looked up to watch it!
So I am temporarily a stay at home dad (ie unemployed) and my wife is working in her successful career (she’s like that one song from the 1970’s “I am woman, hear me roar!”)
Anyway, she was roaring at me the other night to do the dishes, since I had been slacking.
So I went to do the dishes when my son came into the kitchen to ask me when I would be picking him up from school the next day.
Except I didn’t hear him properly.
He said: How close to three will you be tomorrow?
I heard: How close to Free Willy will you be tomorrow?
So I answered him.
I said: Well, Jack, I don’t plan on ever being close to Free Willy since one, he’s a whale, and two, he’s free and I doubt he would come to Minnesota as we live in a landlocked state, not including the Mississippi River…..however, I don’t think he’d even try to swim up that for obvious reasons not including salt water and not forgetting…well…I mean…do you realize he’d have to cross through the Panama Canal to get to the mouth of the Mississippi unless he took the long way, which I doubt he’d try and, of course, there is the Suez Canal….so…why did you want to know the answer to that question….isn’t it obvious?
So of course, Dylan, age 4+, after watching a Transformers movie, wanted to get the Decepticon “Frenzy” and we looked it up and bought it online for him.
He was pumped, seeing the picture of the toy in action (it showed Frenzy jamming into Air Force One’s computers and thus jamming into the classified files of the Pentagon)…
He wanted to stay home from pre-school the day the toy was scheduled to arrive in the mail.
He was gonna use the ‘bad guy’ to get into my laptop and wreck it. A novel way, I suppose, having smeared chocolate all over the keyboards and stomped on it already.
So the toy comes in a little box, addressed to Dylan. We saw it sitting on the porch, hand delivered by the mailman. That only added to its mystique, cuz he knows normal mail gets put into the mailbox of our home.
He rips open the box in a frenzy (!!) of activity, and tears off the bubble wrap. For a moment, he started having fun popping all the bubble wrap and forgot about the prize still in the box.
So I pulled it out of the box…the little Frenzy toy….and handed it to him. When he grabbed it, one of the Frenzy robotic arms fell off.
Then, as he attempted to make it turn into a boombox…which is what Frenzy does to hide from Earthlings…one of the robotic legs fell off.
He dropped it onto the porch and cried…then walked back into the house
I picked it up and brought it into the house. I threw it into one of the toy bins he has.
He was already back on his nook, playing the Basketball Stickman game he had bought (!?!) and downloaded from the Google Play store.
Note to self: Change the Google password so he can’t buy games anymore.
So Reille Hunter is quoted as saying she wants her privacy back.
Which is why she wrote the Memoir entitled:
“What Really Happened: Jon Edwards, Our Daughter, and Me”
Sources who were inside the Hunter camp when she typed out the original manuscript on her iPhone have said the original title was:
“Confessions Of A Fame Whore: Mean Elizabeth Could’ve Lived And I’d Still Have My Hottie Jon-Jon Cuz She Made Him Feel Bad About Himself And I Played Into His Vanity – Did I Mention He Is A Hottie?”
but the publisher decided that would be too provocative. And too long for the attention span of the average American reader.
What was I talking about again?
So, anyway, she was being interviewed AGAINST HER WILL – OF COURSE on some show like Dateline or TMZ or something, and my 2 boys, ages 9 and 2, were in the livingroom with me while I was watching it.
I was laughing and my 9 year old, Jackson, asked why.
Me: Because she’s an idiot.
Me: I don’t know why. She was born that way maybe. But I think you mean why do I think she is an idiot, in that , you mean to ask what is it that she is doing that makes her an idiot, correct?
Jackson: Yeah. Something like that.
(bloggers note: My other son, 2 year old Dylan, is kicking a soccer ball all over the livingroom, knocking over a lamp and then pulling all the clean yet unfolded clothes out of the laundry basket that I haven’t put away and throwing them all over the house. He is rowdy, and I am too tired as a midwest older parent guy to do anything about it.)
Me: She says she doesn’t want any attention on her, but then writes a book and tells everyone about herself.
Me: It’s like ‘Hi….I don’t want you to pay attention to me, so I am gonna go on tv and tell you not to pay attention to me….I am gonna tell everyone not to pay attention to me…are you paying attention to me and what I am saying?’
So my son asked me how old I was going to be when he turned 18 (60 years old, btw….67 for the other boy, my youngest) and I immediately thought of former living person Anna Nicole Smith.
Anna Nicole Smith – was, as you know, married (her second marriage btw-I guess the first guy was too young) to oil business mogul and non-mobile feeb J. Howard Marshall, 62 years her senior.
People speculated that she married him for his money, which she denied, because why would a silicone bimbo with no means of income want to be with a rich guy who has dirt on his one foot that is in the grave?
After he deep sixed, she sued his estate to get all of his cash, but then she died on February 8, 2007 in a Hollywood, Florida hotel room as a result of an overdose of prescription drugs.
James Howard Marshall II was an American businessman, university professor, attorney, federal government official, and feeb husband to Anna Nicole Smith during the last 14 months of his life. His estate became the subject of protracted litigation because Anna wanted her dead sugar daddy’s money to support her lavish lifestyle. His life spanned MORE than nine decades and almost the entire history of the oil industry. That’s a lot!
When he was born, the dinosaurs were still decomposing.
And he was born in Pennsylvania a long time ago (hint: The United States were still referred to as “The Colonies”), almost right after the first Thanksgiving, and he attended a private high school and then studied liberal arts at some old college, graduating in 1926…NINETEEN TWENTY SIX!!!!!
He graduated Magna Cum Laude from Yale Law School in 1931…
Then he was an Assistant Dean at Yale Law School and at the same time, he got a scholarship as a member of the …legal realist school of thought (huh?), and helped write an article entitled A Factual Study of Bankruptcy Administration and Some Suggestions (ie major dork)..then he became the Assistant Solicitor at the Department of Interior and authored the Connally Hot Oil Act of 1935……
BLAH BLAH BLAH ACHIEVEMENT ACCOMPLISHMENTS AND SUCCESS…..
He was married a few times and enjoyed lemonade with his petticoat dressed parasol carrying wives, strolling with them down Main Street hand in hand while listening to barbershop quartets singing “On Moonlight Bay” and “Sweet Adeline”. But in 1994, at the age of 89, he married 26-year-old model Anna Nicole Smith. Their marriage lasted fourteen months until his death.
Marshall died of natural causes (defined as: a naturally feathered down pillow found naturally stuffed down his throat, complete with nipple and breast marks obviously caused by some naturally hard silicone like substance pressing against it) in Houston, Texas on August 4, 1995.
Following Marshall’s death, Anna Nicole Smith (who died on February 8, 2007) became involved in a court battle with her former stepson, another older guy named E. Pierce Marshall (who died on June 20, 2006).
Everyone is dead now.
So what kind of a dad would he have been to his kids had he lived?
A SLOW MOVING ONE
….let me call you sweetheart **
**the above words sung under the light of the moon at the turn of the 1900’s, at a carnival with some guys and gals, eating popcorn and saying words like GOLLY!