As I was sitting at work today, breaking up the monotony of the day through talking with some friends from high school, we were talking about how those days were. Missy and I were talking and both of us felt compelled to blog about those days.
Now, I want to put this in perspective for all of the people that are reading this. I graduated high school in 1991, Now, I know some of you are going to say how I was in high school in the last century, there are even some people that will ask if I rode my dinosaur to school. Well, hardy har har, all of you people. Bring it on, as you will see in the below items, I can take it. And you will soon see why.
Where do I start?
Wow, what a good question. Let's see, I can start with the car I drove, the sports I played, the classes I took, the girls I dated or maybe even how I spent my weekend nights.
"Wow, Don, what a great start for your blog!"
But no, I choose to start with the thing that I felt was the curse I was meant to bear all of my days. It was simple, I was Don DICKHAUS. Now, I have come across people in my adult life that will comment that it can be that bad. Are you serious people? Can you really claim it is not that bad. We all know high school is harsh, kids are mean. Imagine that when your last name not only is a male body part, but implies it is the home of a male body part. My last name was another name for a penis domicile.
You laughed just there didn't you? Yeah, I know. I could not order a pizza, the first day of class was always riddled with giggling. When people mispronounce your name to make sure they don't feel uncomfortable, it's a bad one. In the modern day, when you have to call your employer's help desk and ask them to let your name come through the porn filter, it's a horrible last name. And that last name set the stage for the rest of high school.
My Friday Nights
Ahh, they were wild, I am telling you. I mean, standing, along your car at the McDonald's parking 'hanging out', fabulous. You might ask, well, what did you do standing at your car in the parking lot? And it's simple. You stood by your car in the parking lot. And that took a lot of work. I mean, we did it for hours. We apparently were horrible at it, we kept doing it. I wonder if we ever got it right? If you do, what next? Pizza Hut's parking lot? Yeah - did that too. Hey, I was international back then. Started American, ended up Italian. If I would have been in high school another year. might have made it to Taco Bell....
My car
I remember my first car well. a 1984 Dodge Charger. Do you know how we worked to improve the value of our cars? We doubled the value by putting a stereo in them that would get louder than anyone else's. Nothing like driving down the street in a glorified station wagon with the bass pumping to Vanilla Ice. That's right all, he was big when I was in school. It was either pop or big hair bands. And we listened to them on cassettes. What you ask? Wikipedia it, will you!
My car had no air, no power windows, can you even buy a car without air today? Do the 20 somethings even know how to manually roll down a window?
Sports
I was not a football player, did not play baseball. I wrestled. Not the WWE kind of wrestling that you see on TV. That would have been awesome. Wait, with my last name, there is not telling what my stage name would have been. See, what I did, I starved myself all well to make weight. Once I made it, I ate like I was never going to see food again, dressed into a tight outfit, got on a mat, and rolled on the floor with another bloated guy.
That lasted one year....
Technology
What? Technology for us was a walkman. There were no cell phones. Internet? Inter-what? I went to the library. Ohh, yeah, that's like a bookstore where you get to borrow the books. When I had a paper due, I had to type it. On a typewriter. There is not a delete key on a typewriter you know. What am I talking about, of course you don't.
Music, yeah we could buy a song at a time. It was called a 45, later to be replaced with a cass-single. I still remember the first one I bought. Was all of 12 years old, Olivia Newton John's "Physical"
I still remember the first time I listened to it. Wait, no I don't... My mom took it away from me. Apparently it was too suggestive. I won't even bring up the song my 8 year old sings. I kissed a girl....
Recap
But you know, I look back on it all and I loved every minute of it. OK, maybe not every minute. That time where I stood up to a senior as a freshman when they called me a name was not the highlight of my childhood, but at the same time it gave me one thing.
The ability to laugh and make fun of myself.
It is the best gift I received. I learned then, you can either be pissed off or give up and have some fun. I mean, look at me now. Good job, good family, all of the stuff I could ask for and more. Yet I am still named after a Penis Domicile, hell, I still listen to the shit music we have in the late 80's, early 90's.
OK, enough for now. So, Missy, how about that cup of coffee at the Waffle House??
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Friday, October 31, 2008
Pumpkin Carving
So, I am a dad, those you that know me, you know that. And those that don't know me, you know it now.
Well, I wanted a special thing that I could do with my kids that they will always remember. And I found it. I carve pumpkins with them. I have done it for years and I have tried to match the pumpkin with something like what my kids were wearing that year. So, I have done Darth Vader, a ninja turtle, Tinkerbell, among others.
Well, my kids are older now (8 and 6) and you are all lucky I am typing this.
You see, we sat down last night at the kitchen counter and we talked about what pumpkins to carve. And would you know, we had to do three pumpkins. The kids could not agree on one. I know, you are saying, "Don, you said you only have two kids, why three pumpkins?" Well, I wanted one too you know!
So, we finally narrowed down the list to three. Out come the knives, the paper, you name it. Well, the inside of a pumpkin is gross. Did you know that? It's like putting your hands in a big booger filled nose. That's among many of the things I heard as I gutted three pumpkins.
Then I started on the first one.... The three of us working hard on it, listening to music, having fun, laughing... wait, where did the kids go?? As I look over, I see them both sitting on a step in my kitchen the upstairs with their Gameboys in hand.
So, what happens next, I carve three pumpkins with those pumpkin carving tools you buy at the store. You know the orange ones I am talking about. Yeah, I think they are made by Keebler. You know why I know that. Because only freakin' elves have hands that damn small. I looked like I was trying to fit my hand in the top of a 2 liter for three hours.
And did I mention those blades are sharp? I almost took off a freaking finger! And pumpkin guts are acid when they hit an open wound. I screamed in pain. Then I go to get a bandaid, so I don't get E-coli from the manure they grew the pumpkins in. Well, I got to pick between Dora and Blues clues, the two brands my kids stopped wearing years ago.
I walk into work on halloween morning, with my Dora the Explorer bandaged hands, typing with a flippin' pencil in my mouth because I still can't open my hands. But my kids have pumpkins that will rot and have slugs covering them by Sunday!
And here is the end result!
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Halloween Costume Requirements
OK, I might be showing my age here, but I need to rant. So, here I go.
I am petitioning that there be groundrules for Trick or Treating. That's right, I want to protect the holiday for my children. I was able to witness trick or treating pre-Halloween this weekend and I was floored. Some of the things I saw. So, I decided to come up with rules. That's right rules.
1. If your costume is a lumberjack and you accomplished the look by simply not shaving that morning, you are too old to trick or treat.
2. If you are a female and you have a more mature shape than the last girl I went out with, although I appreciate it (provided you are the legal age), you are too old to trick or treat.
3. If you feel the need to request a certain type of candy, DON'T. You will get what I give you. Trust my judgement kids. I am not going to screw you like I was screwed when I was a kid. Which means no pennies, no almond joys or mounds. I am not that old. I love a good candy bar as much as you do.
4. If you fail to put on a costume, keep walking. I am not going to entertain the fact that you are dressed as a student or something else. If you don't put the effort in, neither will I. I mean, this is a two way street here.
5. Don't pull the switcheroo on the masks. You can not simply switch masks with your buddies and hit houses over and over. Does not work that way. One to a customer please. I mean, when you are at Sam's on free food day, do you circle the chicken tender lady over and over? No, don't do it to me. Note: If you do circle her, we need to talk!
6. Be polite. You don't say thank you, be prepared for me to reach my hand back into your bag and grab my candy out. It's that simple.
On a related note: If you are a vandal and if by reading any of the rules above you feel the need to egg my house or destroy things, feel free to ignore the rules. I don't want to spend three hours cleaning up pumpkin guts in my yard for a 25 cent kit kat.
TUCK OUT!!
I am petitioning that there be groundrules for Trick or Treating. That's right, I want to protect the holiday for my children. I was able to witness trick or treating pre-Halloween this weekend and I was floored. Some of the things I saw. So, I decided to come up with rules. That's right rules.
1. If your costume is a lumberjack and you accomplished the look by simply not shaving that morning, you are too old to trick or treat.
2. If you are a female and you have a more mature shape than the last girl I went out with, although I appreciate it (provided you are the legal age), you are too old to trick or treat.
3. If you feel the need to request a certain type of candy, DON'T. You will get what I give you. Trust my judgement kids. I am not going to screw you like I was screwed when I was a kid. Which means no pennies, no almond joys or mounds. I am not that old. I love a good candy bar as much as you do.
4. If you fail to put on a costume, keep walking. I am not going to entertain the fact that you are dressed as a student or something else. If you don't put the effort in, neither will I. I mean, this is a two way street here.
5. Don't pull the switcheroo on the masks. You can not simply switch masks with your buddies and hit houses over and over. Does not work that way. One to a customer please. I mean, when you are at Sam's on free food day, do you circle the chicken tender lady over and over? No, don't do it to me. Note: If you do circle her, we need to talk!
6. Be polite. You don't say thank you, be prepared for me to reach my hand back into your bag and grab my candy out. It's that simple.
On a related note: If you are a vandal and if by reading any of the rules above you feel the need to egg my house or destroy things, feel free to ignore the rules. I don't want to spend three hours cleaning up pumpkin guts in my yard for a 25 cent kit kat.
TUCK OUT!!
Monday, October 20, 2008
Franken-Puppy
OK, all, I know, I know, it's been a while since I have written in this and for that I am truly sorry. OK, maybe not truly, I will say mostly. definately kinda....
So, as you know from reading my past posts, I talk about various things in life and try to put some humor in them. Some of which involve my kids, others involve my observations on life, and then there is Ginger.... Ginger is a sweet and lovable pain in the ....
Well, Ginger will be celebrating her 2nd birthday next month. What am I going to get her you ask, well my first is simple: Nothing, she is a flippin' dog, she does not know what a birthday is.... And the second is, well, I already got it, and it is the morale of the story and reason for the title to this post.
Not long ago, I noticed my sweet, little puppy (yes, I am talking about Ginger) limping and not using the one back leg. Well, I had an appointment for the vet shortly after that and I asked about it. Turns out she had a condition which is a hundred letters long, that I can not say without spitting all over myself, which translates into "BAD KNEE" So, I asked what I do. They said, "Fix it", I did as every pet owner would do, I asked, "How Much?"
Well, here is my first tip for you, don't ask that, you might get an answer you don't like. So, after they told me the answer, and picked me up off of the floor, I learned it was $1,800.
Then I started thinking. In my day, if my folks would have gotten that news, my dad and the dog would have went for a walk. And wouldn't you know it, the dog would get away. And my dad would be telling us all of this as he cleaned his gun at the kitchen table. Yeah, amazing how clueless we are when we 'trust' our parents.
Well, after hours of soul searching I decided to bite the bullet and spend the money. Well, I took her up there, dropped her off and even had to sign a DNR.
Then I decide that I am going to take both of my kids up there to pick her up. Well, we are in the waiting room and this girl, comes walking in. And you know, to this day, I am not sure if it was a girl or a pin cushion. The girl was pierced everywhere. Blue hair, posts and rods coming out. I needed a tetnis shot, just to shake her hand. She totally had my kids staring and pointing.
Well, she then says she is going to get the dog. In walks the dog. Her back leg is completely shaved off and there is a 6 inch incision down her leg. I look at my kids, they look back at me and then it starts. Screams of fear. So the dog is scared, the vet tech is scared, I am scared. we all just sit there for a few minutes and scream.
Finally, I get everyone calmed down, we get in the car to go home and as I driving home, the screaming starts again. At this point, my head is about to explode. I am going down I-71, with a dog that looks like it was in a knife fight, my daughter screaming and my son laughing about the vet tech and how she looks like she fell in a hardware store.
I get home, cater to this dog, and then try to put people to bed. Then I come back down and cater to the dog.
Now, people will read this and think one of two things.
1. If you are not an animal lover, you will simply think.... Idiot.
2. If you are an animal lover, you will simply think..... Idiot, but I would have done it too.
Ginger is fine, running on it like nothing happened.
So, as you know from reading my past posts, I talk about various things in life and try to put some humor in them. Some of which involve my kids, others involve my observations on life, and then there is Ginger.... Ginger is a sweet and lovable pain in the ....
Well, Ginger will be celebrating her 2nd birthday next month. What am I going to get her you ask, well my first is simple: Nothing, she is a flippin' dog, she does not know what a birthday is.... And the second is, well, I already got it, and it is the morale of the story and reason for the title to this post.
Not long ago, I noticed my sweet, little puppy (yes, I am talking about Ginger) limping and not using the one back leg. Well, I had an appointment for the vet shortly after that and I asked about it. Turns out she had a condition which is a hundred letters long, that I can not say without spitting all over myself, which translates into "BAD KNEE" So, I asked what I do. They said, "Fix it", I did as every pet owner would do, I asked, "How Much?"
Well, here is my first tip for you, don't ask that, you might get an answer you don't like. So, after they told me the answer, and picked me up off of the floor, I learned it was $1,800.
Then I started thinking. In my day, if my folks would have gotten that news, my dad and the dog would have went for a walk. And wouldn't you know it, the dog would get away. And my dad would be telling us all of this as he cleaned his gun at the kitchen table. Yeah, amazing how clueless we are when we 'trust' our parents.
Well, after hours of soul searching I decided to bite the bullet and spend the money. Well, I took her up there, dropped her off and even had to sign a DNR.
Then I decide that I am going to take both of my kids up there to pick her up. Well, we are in the waiting room and this girl, comes walking in. And you know, to this day, I am not sure if it was a girl or a pin cushion. The girl was pierced everywhere. Blue hair, posts and rods coming out. I needed a tetnis shot, just to shake her hand. She totally had my kids staring and pointing.
Well, she then says she is going to get the dog. In walks the dog. Her back leg is completely shaved off and there is a 6 inch incision down her leg. I look at my kids, they look back at me and then it starts. Screams of fear. So the dog is scared, the vet tech is scared, I am scared. we all just sit there for a few minutes and scream.
Finally, I get everyone calmed down, we get in the car to go home and as I driving home, the screaming starts again. At this point, my head is about to explode. I am going down I-71, with a dog that looks like it was in a knife fight, my daughter screaming and my son laughing about the vet tech and how she looks like she fell in a hardware store.
I get home, cater to this dog, and then try to put people to bed. Then I come back down and cater to the dog.
Now, people will read this and think one of two things.
1. If you are not an animal lover, you will simply think.... Idiot.
2. If you are an animal lover, you will simply think..... Idiot, but I would have done it too.
Ginger is fine, running on it like nothing happened.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Snow in Cincinnati
Well, I survived. Survived what you ask, well the great blizzard of 2008. It was pretty touchy there for a while. I was worried I would not make it. I did not stop at Wal Mart the night before to stock up on water, canned meats and beef jerky....
Then I watched the news, the agony, the horror of the snow, all of that. The news painted the picture of the end of the world. It is true, we were all going to die. So, I thought to myself, "Do I really want to die hearing how I am going to die?" So I turned off the news.
Then I went to the back door and looked outside. I saw my back yard covered with snow, my kids back there with my dog, playing, having a great time, enjoying the snow. Then I realized something. DID THEY NOT KNOW WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE? OK, so maybe I am being a little dramatic, but come on people..... It is snow, that's it!
So, I have one other story to share with everyone (which means the one, maybe two people who actually read this)
Ben and his snowballs:
I woke up early Saturday morning to a snow covered world. I looked outside, saw the snow covered streets and thought to myself: "Where in the hell is my driveway?"
So, I started digging it out. I got dressed, got Ben dressed, which is about the equivalent of gettting a squid in snow clothes. And remember, this kid is 5! But we were out there, I was shoveling, and about every 5 minutes, he would throw a snowball at me. It was so much fun... for him!
Well, this went on and on and then he found the pieces of ice on the bottom of the driveway. And he threw some of them. I would ask him very politely... hey, it's my story, so I am saying it was polite, to stop. Well, he did not...
About this time, my neighbor came over with his snowblower. He is one of those guys that has issues and needs to address them by buying large pieces of equipment. Well, I was ok with it this time. I admit, I used him. I used him for his snowblower. So, I started using it, and man it was really strong. About this same time, I got whacked in the back with another block of ice... So, I could only think of one thing.
Yeah, you saw it coming. I turned the snowblower on him. I covered the boy with about 6 inches of snow.... Should I have done it? Probably not. But he and I were both laughing hysterically....
And then I realized something. I should have never done it. For the next half hour I heard the same thing, "Dad, hit me again...."
TUCK OUT!
Then I watched the news, the agony, the horror of the snow, all of that. The news painted the picture of the end of the world. It is true, we were all going to die. So, I thought to myself, "Do I really want to die hearing how I am going to die?" So I turned off the news.
Then I went to the back door and looked outside. I saw my back yard covered with snow, my kids back there with my dog, playing, having a great time, enjoying the snow. Then I realized something. DID THEY NOT KNOW WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE? OK, so maybe I am being a little dramatic, but come on people..... It is snow, that's it!
So, I have one other story to share with everyone (which means the one, maybe two people who actually read this)
Ben and his snowballs:
I woke up early Saturday morning to a snow covered world. I looked outside, saw the snow covered streets and thought to myself: "Where in the hell is my driveway?"
So, I started digging it out. I got dressed, got Ben dressed, which is about the equivalent of gettting a squid in snow clothes. And remember, this kid is 5! But we were out there, I was shoveling, and about every 5 minutes, he would throw a snowball at me. It was so much fun... for him!
Well, this went on and on and then he found the pieces of ice on the bottom of the driveway. And he threw some of them. I would ask him very politely... hey, it's my story, so I am saying it was polite, to stop. Well, he did not...
About this time, my neighbor came over with his snowblower. He is one of those guys that has issues and needs to address them by buying large pieces of equipment. Well, I was ok with it this time. I admit, I used him. I used him for his snowblower. So, I started using it, and man it was really strong. About this same time, I got whacked in the back with another block of ice... So, I could only think of one thing.
Yeah, you saw it coming. I turned the snowblower on him. I covered the boy with about 6 inches of snow.... Should I have done it? Probably not. But he and I were both laughing hysterically....
And then I realized something. I should have never done it. For the next half hour I heard the same thing, "Dad, hit me again...."
TUCK OUT!
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
It's a game people, seriously
So, last night, I was lucky enough to go to the season opener of the Bengal's game. It was a good time, I was dressed in my Carson Palmer Jersey and the weather was as good as it could be for a game in the early part of September.
It was loud, especially at the end, I had beer spilled on me (a whole one almost), but fear not, it was a Bud Light, so no good beer was harmed. I also had the chance to go to the Pro Shop and look around and think of all of the things that I want Santa to bring me this Christmas. Will not get any of them of course, but I have been extra good this year. **If you know different, just play along, will ya??**
Well, I talked about all of the above and did not 'complain' about any of it. So, I have to be honest, there was one thing that I could not help but notice, one fan in particular. So let me set the stage for you some first.
I have season tickets that I share with family. I get to go to about every other game, and always have a great time. When you have season tickets, there are people that you get to know. I have the guy right in front of me that is hardcore serious. He comes by himself, has his headphones on and listens intently while watching the game. Then there are the four guys right next to him. They are there for the party, plain and simple.
We then have the young girl in front of them, she is there for the attention. She dressed the part, talks the talk, you name it. I mean, last night alone, who seriously wears a skirt to a football game? (And if you are reading this sweetie, you pulled it off quite well, so keep up the good work)
You get to know these people, you may not know their name, but it is like going to a family reuinion. You all know what I mean, you know the faces, and you know it is Aunt Something or Another, Uncle You Know. You talk, you catch up and you are not worried about the details of names and such.
Well, all of this brings me to the purpose of this post. Turns out last night we got a new member to our season pass family. WOW! This guy is intense. I have never seen someone get so into a football game before.
Let me give you a scenario: The Bengals were driving the ball in the 2nd half, were within 10 yards of a touchdown. They were lined up and it looked like they were going to run the ball. And the elf (he kinda looks like one) starts screaming for them to pass it. Well they did not and he goes nuts. When Rudi made the touchdown, I thought, "Well, at least they made it." Well, that did not stop him. He went crazy still. Then when they lined up for the extra point the scenario repeated. So, I felt the need to say something....
I made the comment that they made it, lighten up. Well, he unleashed his magical elf powers on me to shut me up. It was then that my 'family' came to my aid. We all talked to him about lightening up some, since there were some kids around and his choice of words were pretty strong. He did not like what we had to say.... He left. We were happy, we were sad. OK, we were mostly happy.
So, the purpose of my post. It's a game people. I know it can be fun to scream, cheer, yell. But when you are in that stadium, I dont care what seat you have, they can not hear you on that field. So calling Marvin an idiot is not going to impact him. I am positive that Carson Palmer is not on the field lining up a rushing play, hears a fan scream "Pass it" and go, "Duh, why didn't I think of that?"
Have fun, have a beer, and enjoy the game. No point in having a stroke out of frustration....
Tuck out!
It was loud, especially at the end, I had beer spilled on me (a whole one almost), but fear not, it was a Bud Light, so no good beer was harmed. I also had the chance to go to the Pro Shop and look around and think of all of the things that I want Santa to bring me this Christmas. Will not get any of them of course, but I have been extra good this year. **If you know different, just play along, will ya??**
Well, I talked about all of the above and did not 'complain' about any of it. So, I have to be honest, there was one thing that I could not help but notice, one fan in particular. So let me set the stage for you some first.
I have season tickets that I share with family. I get to go to about every other game, and always have a great time. When you have season tickets, there are people that you get to know. I have the guy right in front of me that is hardcore serious. He comes by himself, has his headphones on and listens intently while watching the game. Then there are the four guys right next to him. They are there for the party, plain and simple.
We then have the young girl in front of them, she is there for the attention. She dressed the part, talks the talk, you name it. I mean, last night alone, who seriously wears a skirt to a football game? (And if you are reading this sweetie, you pulled it off quite well, so keep up the good work)
You get to know these people, you may not know their name, but it is like going to a family reuinion. You all know what I mean, you know the faces, and you know it is Aunt Something or Another, Uncle You Know. You talk, you catch up and you are not worried about the details of names and such.
Well, all of this brings me to the purpose of this post. Turns out last night we got a new member to our season pass family. WOW! This guy is intense. I have never seen someone get so into a football game before.
Let me give you a scenario: The Bengals were driving the ball in the 2nd half, were within 10 yards of a touchdown. They were lined up and it looked like they were going to run the ball. And the elf (he kinda looks like one) starts screaming for them to pass it. Well they did not and he goes nuts. When Rudi made the touchdown, I thought, "Well, at least they made it." Well, that did not stop him. He went crazy still. Then when they lined up for the extra point the scenario repeated. So, I felt the need to say something....
I made the comment that they made it, lighten up. Well, he unleashed his magical elf powers on me to shut me up. It was then that my 'family' came to my aid. We all talked to him about lightening up some, since there were some kids around and his choice of words were pretty strong. He did not like what we had to say.... He left. We were happy, we were sad. OK, we were mostly happy.
So, the purpose of my post. It's a game people. I know it can be fun to scream, cheer, yell. But when you are in that stadium, I dont care what seat you have, they can not hear you on that field. So calling Marvin an idiot is not going to impact him. I am positive that Carson Palmer is not on the field lining up a rushing play, hears a fan scream "Pass it" and go, "Duh, why didn't I think of that?"
Have fun, have a beer, and enjoy the game. No point in having a stroke out of frustration....
Tuck out!
Thursday, August 23, 2007
A 7 Year Old's Independence
You know, for those of you that have kids, we want to make sure that we raise our kids to be independent. To think for themselves, take responsibility for their actions. Well, what can I say other than the fact that we are so stupid sometimes.....
You know, not too long ago, my 7 year old mastered the telephone. She would answer it when my mom (her Ga-Ga) called. She would tell me what her phone number was. It was all so cute. And then it happened.....
I would be doing something around the house and the phone would ring. And I noticed that it stopped after a ring. Did not think a lot of it, but later found out that she answered it. Cute you say, well, tell that to the telemarketer that called to sell us a water softener. Good news for him, bad news for me. He sold 12 of them to my house that day. Guess her mom showed her how to memorize credit card information as well... Yeah, you laugh now. Wait til you open your Christmas present.
But I found out how this independence came back to bite me a few days ago.
A few months ago, I got a call from here while I was at work. It was so cute. She called me on her own to tell me how much she missed me. I know, I know, isn't that adorable? I told everyone at work how she did it and they all thought it was cute.
But that was a couple of months ago, remember? Well, Monday she called me to tell me about something her friends did. I will spare you the details but it involved her friend, her friend's sister, a frog, a key turtle and a house. As you read this, you probably thought the same thing that I did when I heard it... HUH? Well, ten minutes later, I figured it all out. Made me not appreciate it anymore.
Then another thing clicked with me. She was whispering. I then asked why, followed up with, "Where is Mommy?" And I got the reply back, "Dad, don't tell her we talked about this." Well, then mom got on the phone. Turns out the whole frog thing was a touch subject....
So, raise your kids to be independent, but let me give you one extra criteria to add to their independence. When they feel the need to express their independence. Give her the phone number of someone else! Let them deal with. If I am making her independent, why involve me in the first place??
Tuck OUT!
You know, not too long ago, my 7 year old mastered the telephone. She would answer it when my mom (her Ga-Ga) called. She would tell me what her phone number was. It was all so cute. And then it happened.....
I would be doing something around the house and the phone would ring. And I noticed that it stopped after a ring. Did not think a lot of it, but later found out that she answered it. Cute you say, well, tell that to the telemarketer that called to sell us a water softener. Good news for him, bad news for me. He sold 12 of them to my house that day. Guess her mom showed her how to memorize credit card information as well... Yeah, you laugh now. Wait til you open your Christmas present.
But I found out how this independence came back to bite me a few days ago.
A few months ago, I got a call from here while I was at work. It was so cute. She called me on her own to tell me how much she missed me. I know, I know, isn't that adorable? I told everyone at work how she did it and they all thought it was cute.
But that was a couple of months ago, remember? Well, Monday she called me to tell me about something her friends did. I will spare you the details but it involved her friend, her friend's sister, a frog, a key turtle and a house. As you read this, you probably thought the same thing that I did when I heard it... HUH? Well, ten minutes later, I figured it all out. Made me not appreciate it anymore.
Then another thing clicked with me. She was whispering. I then asked why, followed up with, "Where is Mommy?" And I got the reply back, "Dad, don't tell her we talked about this." Well, then mom got on the phone. Turns out the whole frog thing was a touch subject....
So, raise your kids to be independent, but let me give you one extra criteria to add to their independence. When they feel the need to express their independence. Give her the phone number of someone else! Let them deal with. If I am making her independent, why involve me in the first place??
Tuck OUT!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
