My Weekend

Before I start, I decided to use nicknames of my friends in case they are reading this and don’t want their names out there.  Although, I have told everyone about this blog, as far as I know, my wife and mom are the only ones that actually read it.  I should just use their names since most of the people in my life don’t give a crap about me anyways but I’m a nice guy. 

So I’ve had a busy weekend.  Friday, I rolled out of bed at 7 and Cheri and I took the kids to school.  We had about an hour to kill before doctor’s appointments for both Cheri and Skyler so we decided to hit this little diner in town.  I had been there years ago but not recently.  Cheri and I sat down, looked around, and immediately felt out of place.  Now we are almost 40 years old, and we were about half the age of everyone else in there.  Cheri took the picture to the left with the comment “A girl sure feels young in a place like this #old #feelingyoung”.  Food wasn’t bad and it was a pleasant meal.  We left there and met Skyler at the doctor’s office.  She came in like the typical teenager.  Half asleep, yawning, and putting her head down.  You know because it’s so early at 9am.

After the appointments we ran to the grocery store to pick up some burgers for later, and then went to Cheri’s chiropractic appointment.  He started feeling around on her back and asked what she did to get her all out of whack.  I proceeded to narc her out for carrying all the groceries up while I was at work and told him that he needed to give her a lecture about it.  Not that it will help because Cheri doesn’t like to admit she can’t do things that she used to be able too.  She’s hard headed like that.  I wish I could say she learned her lesson, but I know she hasn’t.  We head over to the pharmacy and then finally get home a little after noon.

I get to relax for an hour or so then about 2 in the afternoon then I headed out.  I picked up Big Daddy and the Latin Lover and then went to meet at Double D’s house.  We loaded up his truck and were off for Chicago.  A few months ago, the Latin Lover picked us up some tickets for a White Sox/Royals game.  After talking Double D into waiting until we got to the game to drink, we drove straight there.  Double D kept wanting to stop and switch with Latin Lover in the backseat, because the windows were tinted and he could start drinking.  We got there and tailgated for awhile.  Weather was kind of iffy.  We got sprinkled on a bit but nothing really hard.  We had brats, burgers and wild turkey on the grill.  Along with chips and pop for us and beer for Double D.  It was a good time hanging out with the guys.  The guys next to us offered us up a shot of Patron.  They all looked at me.  I asked what the hell they were looking at.  Double D says “I’ve seen you drink almost a fifth of tequila by yourself at my house”.  The Latin Lover says “He did drink a whole fifth at my house, only one other shot was given out, you had the rest of the bottle.”  I don’t know what they are talking about.  My virgin lips have never touched alcohol.

We had a great time at the game.  Double D apparently gets chatty when drinking but he behaved.  It was a back and forth game, lots of hitting so it kept the excitement up.  But in the end the Sox lost.  Since Double D was drinking, I got volunteered to drive us home.  I found out a few things on the way home, Double D’s truck tends to hydroplane in the rain at 83 mph and Big Daddy likes to ask “What’s your hurry?”.  We eventually got home around 2 am.  I headed to bed and slept till 10 on Saturday.

I got up and spent about 45 minutes with Cheri before heading out on the road again.  It’s a 2 1/2 hour drive from here up to Ann Arbor.  I topped out around 92-93 mph to try to cut down some of that time.  A fellow sports blogger text me on Wednesday night and asked if I could get an extra ticket if I could make it, I said “Hell Yeah”  He lives in Ann Arbor so I met him at his place which is north of the stadium.  He works for the school so we parked in a permit only parking garage for free.  Which can save you up to $40 to park.  I had never come from that way into a game so it was a unique experience to walk through the campus to get there.  To walk through the herd of maize and blue.  It was pretty awesome.  The game was good, a little close for comfort but I always love the atmosphere of being at the stadium.  The tradition at the beginning of the game and even the halftime show with the band is always entertaining.  Since we were playing Air Force, there was a lot of patriotic stuff going on too.  Flyovers by 3 helicopters as well as the stealth bomber.  An eagle flew down to it’s trainer on the field during the national anthem.  And all kinds of applause for those who have and continue to serve.  I left the bloggers house around 7:30, and after stopping at Steak ‘n Shake to grab my wife a shake, I got home a little after 10.

One thing I noticed with all the driving I did today was I have a lot of songs on my playlist at Spotify.  Since I just started using it again, I’m playing them in order and working my way down alphabetically.  Because I’ve been using it at work, I started where I left off there, that was at “Farther On” by Russ Taff.  Now you would think driving 5 hours yesterday, that I would have gotten most of the way through the alphabet.  But the last song I played when I pulled in to home was “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me” by U2.  So I went through 3 letters of the alphabet, in 5 hours.  But that is also 69 songs and I have 700 on the playlist.  It might take me awhile to get through it all.

This leads me to today.  I’m not doing a damn thing.  Sitting in my PJ’s all day.  Picking up the kids at 7 so I wouldn’t even have to get out of my PJ’s for that but the wife wants to stop and pick up a few groceries before we get the kids so I guess I’ll have to get dressed, damn it!

Now I’ve only got one question to answer.  Do I really have to go back to work tomorrow?

 

I am participating in the Dude Write Starting Lineup this week where you can find some excellent posts by bloggers who happen to be dudes.  It’s not a great entry to follow up with my first card last week, but I’ve had a busy weekend.  Stop by, read them all and vote for me and 2 others.

Dating Mrs. Palmer

I have a few loyal readers to my blog, one of those is my mother.  So mom, consider yourself warned.  This is a post you may want to skip.

So, my lovely wife and I have noticed a trend going on in the house lately.  For some reason, my 8 year old son, is all of the sudden, taking really long showers.  I know what your thinking, we thought it to.  But we would just poke our head in and ask

“Have you washed your hair?”

“No”

“Have you washed your body?”

“No”

“Well, quit playing with it and get washed up.”

I was joking, sort of.  But after this happened more than a few times, I decided we needed to have a chit-chat.  So I asked him before putting him to bed.

“What are you doing in the shower for so long?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you playing with yourself?”

He puts his head down and says “Yes.”

Seriously?  Already?  I mean, I know at this age, you touch it and grab it, but is he old enough to actually play with it that long?  I have no idea what age I was when I started spending that much time “pleasuring myself.”  I know once it starts, it never stops but I have no idea how young you are when you start.

“Everybody does it buddy, but you need to do that in the privacy of your bedroom.  We have to pay a water bill and you standing in there for an hour isn’t helping any, plus other people use that shower, ok?”

“Ok.”

“And make sure you clean up after yourself.”

“Ok.”

Yep, he’s a chip off the old block.  Was this supposed to be a conversation that I was supposed to have with my father?  Or did I overstep by talking to him about it?  I’m very open with my kids, if they have questions, I’ll get them answers.  I would rather them come to me with questions rather than talking to someone else.  I hope they continue that practice all the way through school and into adulthood.  My father passed when I was 8, so I didn’t have that male figure in the household to ask or ask me about these kinds of questions.  I sure wasn’t going to ask my mom, ewww!  Besides, she bought me one of those books about puberty.  Of course, I just spanked it to the nude drawings of the woman.

I don’t see how it’s productive to tell him not to do it.  Sure, tell him not to do it in public, but he isn’t hurting anything.  Unless he strokes too hard, but then it’s his own fault anyways.  Although, he uses both hands in sports.  He may not be able to switch hands for some strange.  Poor kid!  We all have our crosses to bare.

I’ll be glad when he’s old enough to really keep it hidden.  Do I have to teach him to use a sock or is that something he learns on his own?  I never used one but to each his own.

 

I am participating in the Dude Write Starting Lineup this week where you can find some excellent posts by bloggers who happen to be dudes that masturbate.  Stop by, read them all and vote for me and 2 others.

Manning up

I’m entering my first Dude Write contest this week.  Because I’m a dude, and I write,  or type, whatever.  I tried to think of something manly to write about, but in other men’s eyes, I may not be manly.  I don’t grill and I don’t know crap about cars.  I can’t fix things and I don’t know crap about power tools.  I don’t hunt, fish or drink beer.  I cry at sad and happy movies (something in my eye).  Maybe I shouldn’t write about manly things.

Or should I?  Because I’m way more manlier than the youth of today.  You would never catch me in skinny jeans, even back when I was skinny.  Seriously, skinny jeans?  It’s even worse when they roll the bottoms up and it looks like capris.  What the hell happened to the next generation?

I’m all for being in touch with our feminine side, but that doesn’t mean you have to act feminine.  I’m all for women’s rights but the older I get, the more lopsided it’s becoming.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying only real men get in fights and blow stuff up, and this isn’t towards the stay at home dad’s out there.  Taking care of your kids is the noblest of professions.  But skinny jeans?  Glasses with no glass in them?  Order drinks called Caffe Vanilla Frappuccino Light Blended (taken off the Starbucks menu, I have no idea what it is.)  They don’t even watch sports.  You know the guys I’m talking about.  We’ve all seen them around.  I’ve seen them in my own home.  They are my daughter’s type.  I guess that could be a good thing.  I don’t have to worry about them smacking her around because she could probably kick their asses.

I want to say something when I see them out on the street.  Grab them and shake them and yell “what the hell are you wearing?”  but I’d probably just go nuts when he looks at me and says “YOLO”.  AAAGGGGHHHHH!   Instead, I kind of look like this.

I don’t know what to think anymore.  While I may not be manly for the things I listed above.  I do the most manliest thing out there, I work to take care of my family.  I am a provider.  I take care of my wife and kids.  You know, when it doesn’t interfere with watching sports.  So I guess if these kids grow up to take care of their families, then I guess I’ll have to concede that they too, grew up to be men.

And when I’m old and have my pants hiked way up, where they look like capris, hopefully I’ll be proud of the men they have become.  All I know is, I’m not very proud of them now.

I am participating in the Dude Write Starting Lineup this week where you can find some excellent posts by bloggers who happen to be dudes.