Category: Adventures of Being a Dad

Cock of the Walk

Woke up late again today because I could. 
After a generous helping of sausage and coffee I decided to step outside and enjoy the morning while the kids & their friends finished the rest of the Scooby Doo movie. My girls rushed at the first sound of my footsteps and in an instant I had them surrounding me and my warm mug. I greeted each one with love and they chirped right back at me. I felt rather cocky as they seem to make a fuss about me. 
That was until until the Road Island Red hen started pecking at my back while I sat and that reminded me that they needed more treats, their coops needs some repair before the rain and it wouldn’t be a bad idea if I went shopping for more feed. 
Somehow now I have more chores to do and I’m afraid to walk into my home. I may find more to-do assignments therein.

Freaky Fractions

Fractions caused friction on our daily walk back from school. 
For some reason, I could NOT wrap my mind around how my youngest figured what went on the denominators place from the number of pie wedges on her little homework sheet. I lost her of course when I intimated that her teacher might be wrong. She curtly pointed out that her instructor went to college and taught for a living. I then called the kids’ mother-dearest for some parental back-up but the backstabber didn’t see it my way and sided with the children. 
Freakin’ fractions fried my brain and now I feel like the dumb kid in class again.

Dead Stop

My dad and I got on the 60 Freeway going east at about 5:00 pm one day. I was 16 and it was a driving lesson. Back then our family had an old Ford Econoline van and I was in charge of all it’s 5,000 pounds.
Traffic was light as I got on the road and I was having fun feeling the van taking speed as I pressed on the accelerator. I kept on looking down at the Speedometer, proudly conscious the effect of my pressing foot and how it then moved the needle. I was so mesmerized that I didn’t really see the red lights in front of me and the traffic that had begun to stall. Right under the 710 freeway my father yelled at me to stop and by luck I found THE brake. The van’s wheels screeched and I felt my dad’s hands at my chest.

When we were stopped he looked at me for a while and then we had to move on. I didn’t drive again for a while and I can’t say I blame him.

Shave and a Haircut

We practiced it! “I need a Number 3 around with a fade and long sides. Half the length a top from what I have now and please thin it out. I wear it spiky!” Now I’m watching my boy holding as still as he can on the chair as the clippers drop bits of hair on his nose he’s dying to itch. Funny how in just minutes he’ll look older and taller. Thanks Mr Barber Man.

Shell Shocked

Somewhere just off the sea my father would walk along the sands and hunt for interesting rocks and shells. He’d then put his collection in a bucket and we’d haul them back to our home in Boyle Heights. I paid him no mind. 
Today I tripped on a pail my youngest has in the garage. There are so many keepsakes from beach trips that I had a hard time counting them. 
Across time & space these two share that common bond. Just had to stub my toe to realize it.

Old Man Rant

Have I allegedly “asked” the youths to get off my lawn?
Do I complain about the noise they now play on the KROQ?
Blokes should still open doors for others right!?
Windsor and half Windsor knots have a place in society que no?
Also let’s face it…Christmas and/or other holidays are a big commercial racket?

 Yet…even as I fight this new technologie I thank Just Dance for introducing my ramblers to the William Tell Overture.

Truth in Short

Stocky is the word that comes to mind when I see photos of my self as a 10 year old. I was a blocky looking kid with long curly hair, chubby cheeks and lacking in height.
I would lean out in the later years but never reached 6 feet like I wanted to.
That’s why it’s a marvel to look at my gazelle like boy running about the home. He’s got that strong swimmers back and lean long legs that in time will lead his line of sight centimeters past mine. One day I’ll have to look up to my son because that’s what the genes seem to dictate.

Ain’t life funny?