Even as I was handing her my keyboard to my blog, I knew it wasn’t a good idea.  What would she write about?  A funny story about one of her sixth grade students?  Something funny the cat did?  Maybe a bit of satire on how a beach girl had to survive college in Texas.   

I relinquished my blog for a day to my wife and she used it against me.  A woman who obviously doesn’t understand my current role in our family.  A family member who with his strong back and his measly $400 a week of unemployment, is still needed.

Yes, I have painted just about every frickin’ wall in this house of ours.  I’ve endured blue, yellow, white paint as well as spackle under my fingernails for weeks now.  I’ve moved furniture that hasn’t seen the light of day since we moved in together four years ago, to clean and paint.  Can I get a back rub tonight?

Yes, I cancelled the gym membership.  God forbid that I spend the hours of frustration of not landing a job by working out my toned and well trimmed body.  Stop laughing.

By the way, I walk the dog for coffee because yours is strong enough to burn holes in the cups.  And the newspaper I pickup does to have a classified section.  I’m just not interested in being a massage therapist or a court reporter (no offense if you do).

Sorry about Jury Duty, but trying to dress me up in drag and going as you was not going to fly.  No matter how pretty you thought I’d look in a pantsuit.

My extra time with our daughters has been very productive.  None of them has decided to get married or has ended up pregnant.  And the house is still standing.

In fact in the month and a half that I’ve been out of work many things have been accomplished.  I will proudly take credit for many of them. 

Such as:

• The L.A. Angels with my rooting for them nightly, are now in first place.
• I’ve been able to start to smoke my cigar inventory down to two humidors. 
• I’ve emptied all the half empty bottles of booze we had up in the cupboard.  A couple of the full ones as well.
• Not as many leftovers are left sitting in the refrigerator.
• I’ve been able to work on my tan.

So, honey, thanks for all your love and support.  I’ll be writing the blog from now on.

Love,

your husband

He has been underfoot for over a month.  In the beginning he kept himself busy with prepping and painting various rooms of the house.  Tomorrow he begins the final phase of “that project.”  He has managed to clean under beds and behind furniture that has not been moved in years.   He kept busy scanning pictures from his mother’s photo albums so that they would be preserved (until he figured out that the youngest could do that for him).

He has had plenty of time to go the gym and finish off the last two months of his membership before it expires, and yet, he has been unable to get himself there.  He runs (occasionally) and walks the dog to the store on a daily basis to get his coffee (mine is too strong for him) and his paper (which seems to lack a classified section).

He has plenty of time to report to Jury duty, and yet, I was called to report tomorrow.  Seriously, we could benefit from his accumulating the extra $15.00/day.  I, on the other hand, would be losing the additional income I can earn from tutoring/word processing for my job.

The youngest child has been getting more time behind the wheel in preparation for her driving test (a plus to his being around).  He has spent time encouraging the eldest to keep her options open to journalism as well as public relations, now that she is the editor of the school newspaper.  Middle child still drives him crazy due to her over-involvement in school, work, and stuff, and I am becoming quite concerned about leaving the two of them alone when I go back to work mid - July.  Not sure the house would be standing when I arrive home.

In reality, I have appreciated the extra time that we have had together when the girls are not around.  I know when the time is right, and the job for which he is suited materializes, I shall miss having him underfoot when I come home from work.

So, honey, thanks for all you have done to make this home a better place and for spending time with the girls and me.  Now, go get a job or, better yet, write your own blog…

Love,

The Wife

My wife got me a wonderful birthday gift a couple of weeks ago.  Two tickets to see my favorite baseball team.  The “Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim” were playing the San Diego Padres on a gorgeous Saturday evening.

This was a combination birthday gift and date night rolled up in one.  Just the wife and me enjoying a couple of beers and my Angels beating up on the Padres.  What more could a guy ask for.

Before looking for our seats on the lower level in left field we decided to stop and pickup a couple of beers.  The concession worker was either being really nice and complimenting me on my “youthful” appearance or being anal about her job.  Either way she “carded me.”  I needed to show that I was old enough to buy beer in the state of California.

Getting carded at all is rare for me.  When I was younger I was thrilled that they thought I was “too young.”  But, as I’ve gotten older it’s just become a nuisance.  I mean, dear God take a look at me.  I’ve got a receding hairline, wrinkles, I wear reading glasses.  Let’s face it; I’m no “spring chicken.”

So anyway, I handed the concession worker who by the way was at least my age and should have known better, my license.  She looked it over, why I don’t know. 

Did she really need to check my birthdate? 

Did she need to know that I may have fudged a little on my height and weight? 

After scanning the card she hands it back to me and says, “I can’t serve you.”  I gave her a puzzled look.  “Your license has expired.  It’s no longer valid.  I can’t sell you any beer.” 

Dumbfounded I check the dates on my license.  Shit, I could have sworn I had another year before it expired.  Why didn’t the state of California send me a notice?  Were they too busy working on the budget, again?

I look over and my wife who has a grin on her face.  “Guess you’ll be heading over to the DMV on Monday” she says.  “Better be nice to me tonight, since I’m the only one who can buy beer.” 

Crap.  At least the Angels won…

I have the honor and the privilege to be the father and step-father to three beautiful daughters.  They are constant reminders of why I was put on this earth.  Not only are they the loves of my life, they are the constant fodder for this blog.

You see years ago I discovered that being a father isn’t an obligation or a right.  It wasn’t something we were supposed to do just because previous generations had.  It is a privilege, a gift to us and one that shouldn’t be taken lightly.  

As holidays go, I love the one coming up tomorrow.  Father’s Day is a time to celebrate the fact that I am a dad.  A chance for me to look back at their lives and see what I was given to mold, teach, and raise up.  As well as what they have taught me, such as patience and how to view the world from their eyes.

My daughters are 21, 17 and 16 respectively.  All have grown to beautiful young ladies that any father would be proud of.  They continue to strive to be the best that they can and really, what father could ask for anything more.

Now don’t get me wrong, these three are not angels.  They have their moments.  I’ve spent many a night waiting up for the missed curfew.  There have been school, girlfriends and boyfriends drama.  I’ve had to mediate arguments with the other parent or step parent.   

We have a saying in my house, “I may not like you at the moment, but I will ALWAYS love you.”  My daughters know that I will move heaven and earth for them. 

So fathers, as you sit in bed awaiting a breakfast of cold cereal or burnt eggs served by your favorite little ones, remember you’ve been given a privilege. 

Happy Father’s Day…

When the bill for your domain name comes up for renewal,

PAY IT IMMEDIATELY. 

Don’t file it under your junk mail….

It’s not fun to have your site down for a couple of days.