So about 25 minutes (after the Big Bang, Hadean, Artrean and Proterozoic as well as the early Phanerozoic eras (ugh!)) into the “History Of The World” pageant held outside presented by the fifth graders at my sons school…he arrived on “stage” (stage defined as grassy knoll, alot like the one where the fourth shot that killed JFK came from, sans hill).
By my quick calculations thru my phone app, I figure he was on the stage for about 10 million years (20 minutes), I think….
He made it through what I call the Age of Aquarius (That was the soundtrack blasted for this part in the pageant – everyone loved it, including the older parents who remember the original song and mouthed the words).
So I am with my kids on a snow day and my 10 year old comes up the hill with his little brother and says “Sliding is cool with Dylan, dad!” to which I say “Sliding is FUN!” to which some lady who I will call Lucy Fuzzy Winkle Fuss Budget says:
“Actually, it’s sledding.”
“You don’t want your kids to do poorly in grammar.”
A PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE MINNESOTA NICE SMILE.
And I could sense she wasn’t joking, cuz she then said, with all her white teeth shining at me, the following:
“I’m not joking.”
“Okay.” I say to her, to shake off her shitty vibe. (I got an online exorcism later. $15 bucks well spent, I’d say.)
“Can we slide some more dad? Jackson asks.
“Yay..sliding…sliding…sliding!” says three year old Dylan.
“Sure.” I say, then look at her.
She is busy watching her own grand-nieces (probably), who appear to be SLIDING…..although maybe she is actually focusing on how much salt she should add to that Christmas dish she promised to bring to her mothers nursing home and why she has to be the family martyr since her brother, a total slob mind you, never calls unless he needs money.
So my nine year old son and I go to see the movie “Journey 2: The Mysterious Island”
Kind of weird, I don’t remember a “Journey 1” but I guess (thru imdb) that it refers to:
Journey to the Center of the Earth – a 2008 3D adventure film starring Brendan Fraser
Also, I thought it was “Journey To The Mysterious Island” which it is not.
Anyway, we get to the theatre for a matinee…still running at $6.50 even though we are – I look around – the only people there….
OK, so at the ticket counter the lady behind the thick bullet proof glass speaks thru her microphone…”Three or Two Dee?”
My nine year old son who is terminally shy and quiet pipes up with –
THREE DEE…THREE DEE….DAD…..THREE DEE…..
I hear –
….Because I am about to be gouged for the first time that day, excluding when I filled up my gas tank of my 2010 Chevrolet Impala with Sirius XM radio
Before I can say
She sells me 2 tickets to the 3D Matinee, $14 each.
I put out a contract on her in my imagination
Garroting, like what happened to Luca Brasi in The Godfather.
‘You will sleep with the fishes’ I think as I give her one last unapproving stare, the kind my dad used to give me when I asked him the difference between a slotted and a phillips screwdriver.
and my son and I move into the theatre lobby. We are conveniently roped toward the concessions, and of course my never-met-a-piece-of-candy-he-didn’t-like son runs up and orders.
Let’s see, how can I explain what happened next?
So it’s 1932, I am a teller at a small Midwestern Bank. I wear a white and black vertical striped shirt and wear a visor on my head.
The bank manager is puffing on his cigar in his office. His name is Mr. Peterpepper.
I am happy to have a job in this crummy small Midwestern town.
Suddenly, Ma Barker comes in. She points a Tommy Gun right in my face. She yells: STICK EM UP – FELLA!
And I give her all the money without a fight.
Mr. Peterpepper has a wet spot in the front of his pants when he comes out from under his desk.
That’s kind of how I felt when my son got a bag of Skittles, a hot dog, and a small Sprite. I got a soft pretzel and a small Diet Coke.
Thirty bucks later we are in the movie.
Jack eats the Skittles and says he’s not hungry for the hotdog anymore. He doesn’t like how it tastes.
Surprise….the hotdog had been revolving on this meat turning machine I think since the night before and it was all shriveled up – looking like an Egyptian Mummy’s male part, if you know what I mean. Not that I’ve ever seen one.
Ninety eight fun filled minutes later we leave the theatre.
“It wasn’t that good” Jackson says.
I give him a look like my dad gives me now when he doesn’t wear his hearing aid…less shame…more ‘Huh?’
So my 9 year old was bored and decided to stack a bunch of plastic cups WAY HIGH ….higher than he was tall.
And he said “Its like a circus trick, dad.”
And I thought…’Not really, but okay.’
AND I SAID “Well, I’d rather have you do that than be a lion tamer, Jack.”
And he asked why.
So I told him that a few months ago, there was this lion tamer who was brutally mauled by a lion.
They ‘HAD TO’ put the lion down (ie KILL) because he was obviously wild and vicious…….JUST LIKE A WILD LION WOULD BE (wtf?!?!?)
SO I can see how that went down
The guy had this lion in front of him, *SNAPPED* his whip a few times….
and poked and poked and poked and POKED A CHAIR AT THE LION OVER AND OVER WHILE SAYING “C’MON….BRING IT!!!!”
until the lion thought ‘BLOW ME’
and slashed his mighty lion paws across the tamers stupid face, ripping all the skin off, exposing his facial muscles, and then—
PINNED THE STUPID TAMER DOWN, repeatedly chewing on his torso, SLASHING AT HIM, SPITTING OUT STUPID TAMER PARTS
all while the mommies and daddies covered their childrens faces to prevent psychological damage….but yet stared in complete HORROR AND A LITTLE BIT of curiousity as the tamer himself was in LITTLE BITS…….
GOOD PARENTING TIP: I told my son to never be a lion tamer when he grows up so he doesn’t get mauled by an angry lion like this guy did
“And that is why I do NOT want you to be a lion tamer, Jack.” I said after completing this terrible tale of the lion and the tamer.
“Works for me.” he said and went downstairs to watch the Green Bay Packers rip apart the Detroit Lions.
I SAID HEY JACK TURN OFF THE TELEVISION!!
WOW….I EXIST…JUST LIKE I THOUGHT I DID…..AND YOU CAN ACTUALLY HEAR ME……WOW……
Hey..I thought you were just blowing me off watching television….so you know that wart you have at the bottom of your foot? Well, tonite’s the night when we begin treatment on it….
YEAH THAT’S IT JACK…THAT’S THE FOOT WE ARE GONNA WORK ON TONITE…..AND IT’S GONNA REALLY HURT
Yup, there you go, thanks for cooperating, let me just peel off this bandaid…the treatment is a little more complicated than just putting on that cream like we did last night, ok? It involves scraping off the dead skin and cutting out as much as we can of the wart, ok?
YOU SHOULD HAVE FINISHED YOUR SUPPER TONITE JACK…………………..
Right, so this is just gonna take a few minutes, and I’m not the kind of parent that would passively-aggressively take it out on you that you act like a little “King of the House” ok? My hands have been shaking like this ever since my shoulder injury, so sorry about that…the blade though, you should know, is a new one….oops, ouch, that looked like it hurt!
NOW GO BACK TO BLOWING ME OFF UNTIL YOU NEED SOMETHING, OKAY?…..I’LL JUST VANISH AGAIN……..
There, now let it soak, we’ll put on some cream and a new bandaid in a couple minutes, and we’re done…..and you can go back to watching tv and asking for a sandwich even though you should have finished your vegetables at dinner LIKE I ASKED YOU TO….since I also mentioned we aren’t a “restaurant” in this house serving only you…..yep, painful wart treatment is over……
..until tomorrow when I have to repeat the process…have a good rest of your night Jack, oh…and by the way….we’re out of bread, so no sandwich……
So Dylan (younger brother) and Jack (older brother) were sitting around when Jack decided to play MLB on his Xbox 360 in the livingroom.
Dylan was actually eating a napkin that had smudges from chocolate cake frosting on it (leftover cake from a birthday party – Dylan had pulled it out of the kitchen garbage can and began wolfing it down) …when he spotted Jack pulling out the controller, putting the game disc into the XBOX 360 console, and using the remote to change the tv input selection.
All that electronic stuff got Dylans attention; he spit out the napkin onto the newly swiffered hardwood floor in the livingroom and jumped on the couch to be with his brother.
We are ready for this, and allowed Dylan to have his own controller that we sometimes power up for him.
With a little assistance, Dylan and Jack were able to play a baseball game against each other. Mostly Jack ran Dylans controls, but sometimes allowed Dylan to do his own thing with the controller.
This resulted in several things:
1) Jack won the baseball game 117 to 0
2) Dylan made it snow, somehow, on the baseball field, by pushing some buttons randomly or maybe when he was chewing on one of the edges of his controller. Don’t know for sure…
3) Jack scored a lot while Dylans players typically either ran backwards, or jumped up and down in place while Jack ran the bases.
4) Dylans computer avatar players kept changing race, gender, and team uniform while at bat, and usually would swing the bat at the umpire, being called out mostly without Jack ever pitching (at least 2 innings of that).
When the game mercifully ended, Dylan threw the controller toward the tv, saying “Due-Due-Due-Due-Doe-Doe-Doe!”
and pointed at the now broken controller, its 2 AA batteries flown across the room outside of their now broken batttery pack, it in itself broken off the bottom of the chewed on controller.