Today is father’s day. For those of you who are new dads, and are thinking back to mother’s day, the day when you brought your lovely wife breakfast in bed. Today you will see the other side. Your lovely wife and kids have, by now woke you up and delivered to you an ugly tie and a new tool, along with a list of things you can repair with it.
I once asked my children’s mother about this, about why she gets a day in bed with breakfast, and I have a honey-do list. Like somehow plunging the toilet or snaking the drain are less annoying when you have a new tool to do it with. Her reply is that we have 2 children, and that she had to carry said children for 18 months, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. In other words, it will be 650 years (assuming 8 hour work days) before we are balanced, with some credit for extra time invested.
The good news for everyone, I am wise enough to not even try to argue with that logic. And now that I have earned down my time, with only 626 years to go, I thought I should take a moment and tell my spawn “Sorry”
Sorry I never learned to duck when I carried you on my shoulders through the door. Sorry your mom stopped us from building our home-made rockets out of house hold chemicals. Sorry I didn’t realize the tent was leaking on our trip. Sorry I woke you all up yelling expletives to get you out of the van (although in my defense, it was on fire at the time.)
Hope all my fellow Miscreants are doing well, and that the children that you know about have acknowledged your special day.
So as some of you noted from comments, I was asked about COW (Child of Writer) this is an even broader subject then POW & WOW so I will start by narrowing it down. If you are a semi –mature, living on your own, human being (possible with spawn of your own) and your Parental unit suddenly wishes to become a writer, you’re out of luck.
Yesterday was terrifying to me! Because of obligations I made I needed to take my wife sized units van. And because of her refusal to ride the neighbor’s dog like a horse, she took my car.
This alone would not worry me much. It’s a fact my small car is easier to park, far more nimble than the van, and wife sized unit is used to being unnoticed by larger lumbering predators, so she knows when and how to move.
The problem comes from her health kick. Now that we are in our forties, and unfortunately know better. Mixed with her desire to live as long and as well as possible there are some food items that are no longer allowed in our house.
I miss chips, I miss pretzels, I miss all my copious amounts of red meat. But the single largest loss to me: doughnuts.
I brought some home once, and explained to my wife sized unit that they were healthy! I asked the woman behind the counter if they were free range, antibiotic and hormone free doughnuts. I took that confused face she made as meaning all doughnuts are that way. Hence these are healthy doughnuts.
Wife sized unit did not see it that way, and forbid doughnuts from the house.
In a single declaration I became an outlaw. I was forced to smuggle my round pieces of heaven into the house. Most times she would not catch me. Every now and again I would find my smuggled round beauties with bit marks, or gone all together.
I was not sure if it was the wife sized unit or the teen age son that found and decimated my stash. Really there was no way to find out. After all anytime you open with “Who ate the food items I smuggles in against the wife and Dr’s orders?” you never get that question answered!
I have been forced to hide my stash in the car now.
While driving her van to my contract job I reached under the driver’s seat, to suddenly realize when I exchanged Keys I forgot to move my stash. I don’t know what fresh hell was under her seat, but I knew that my beloved breakfast feasts were under the seat of the car she was driving. They would make themselves known when she moved the seat (at 4’10” she can’t use the same position that her 6’2” husband does). Even if somehow she missed the package, the doughnuts will end up making my car smell like doughnuts when the sun comes out.
I waited all night for the inevitable fall out of her discovery, but somehow she missed my little beauties. This maybe the first time I was glad she failed to return the seat to where I keep it. My precious survived, undetected.
My wife is losing her touch, although I suspect the Novocaine the Dentist gave her was a factor.
(sorry I have been so quiet – but I have had a reason – see below)
I have said, more times than my poor wife sized unit has wanted to hear, that a bureaucracy is a system that is so Fub’rd that no single person could have come up with it.
Any time you have a large company or a government agency, you are guaranteed to have a bureaucracy. Some of the encounters I have had over the last couple of days:
1) A company I was bidding supplies for rejected my bid (my bid for the temp job I have I should say), because I came in below their budget. I was allowed to resubmit my bid, at a higher rate, but was not allowed to save them money – after the entire budget was set already!
2) The Government is going to hold 8 weeks of my unemployment. This is Standard Operational procedure. If I should go do day labor, or freelance computer work they will not pay me at all. So I have to find a way to go 2 months without income
3) My Unemployment will be shut down every 2 week unless I stop working the contract jobs, I can’t avoid this. So every month I will have to spend an hour & a half of my life on the phone (because you can’t do this on the internet) to keep my claim ‘active’. The word ‘dis-incentive’ comes to mind.
4) My jeep failed Emissions, by .01% to get it fixed I have to take it to a shop, but I can’t because the registration is up, and I can get a temp because it hasn’t passed emissions. So now I have to have it towed, but the tow company won’t tow it without a valid registration.
5) I have to apply for at least 3 jobs a week. Sadly, if there are no jobs at my skill or pay range, I have to apply for ‘the best possible match’. Meaning I will be applying for either jobs that Pay what I am worth but I am not qualified for, or for jobs that I am so overqualified for that even if I got hired all it would mean is I was the smartest burger flipper at whatever fast food joint I am stuck with. (and exaggeration, I don’t have to apply for any job whos’ total weekly pay is less than my unemployment – but still)
6) My 2 new websites are finally coming up, I couldn’t start working on them until the DNS information had been approved, which means I waited for a phone call because automatic systems can’t confirm the information that the phone call did. BTW – the 2 questions it asked me over the phone, my full name and my zip code. I personally think the guy on the phone was just lonely…
So next time any of you hear me talking about “Author Juice”, also known as Beer, Consider that the above examples have all kicked up in the last 8 days, than wonder why the heck I am sober enough to even write this!
Greetings all, no real news but I have been thinking about something that I find interesting, and decided if I liked it you may (after all you’re reading my blog)
I should note this is less for my readers, most of which are fellow authors like me, and more or your significant other. They are WOW’s or Widows of Writers.
The following is a guest blog by Robert Davis of Miscreant Thoughts and Lesser Things. It is a special anniversary guest blog that he sent to me.
I am one of Charles associates, and if you are reading this then one of two things are true:
1) Charles read this advice to him about how to spend his anniversary and thought it funny enough to put on his blog.
Good Evening my fellow Miscreants,
I was headed from Aurora to the ½ way to Fort Collins meeting point that my wife sized unit or myself to go every weekend to deliver her spawn to his other parent (the term ‘father is up for debate, we know genetically he is, but as a life influence goes…) and wanted to express my gratitude.
I have driven this route several times. I probably could do it with my eyes closed, except for the traffic, the one Variable. Tonight as I drove, I waved to the young man in the pickup truck, and hoped that my parade princess wave was appreciated. After all he did me a great service.
As we drove, he came up behind me. It was work for his Ford pickup to catch my small convertible, and to be honest had I not shed 15 MPH off of my speed he never really would have. Of course he objected to this drop in speed using his lights, flashing in Morris code “move your a$$ I want to drive”
I complied, after all I knew I could not go into that section of the highway in the condition that it was in at the speed he wanted, and so I deferred to his youthful vigor.
He made it about ½ a mile before the on ramp he passed lite up like a pinball machine.
I can’t help but wonder if he realized the condition of the highway I mentioned earlier was there was no patrol car with its latest catch? The police park at this location everyday all the time. You can set your odometer by this speed trap, and you can also tell the people who live in the area from those that don’t. The residents, like myself, know to slow down. The police set up there any day ending with a Y.
I hope the officer cut you a small break my young friend, and thanks for smoking him out so I could return to the real speeds, not just the posted speed limit.
Hello my fellow miscreants,
Today’s blog is dedicated to the gentleman on the motorcycle who shared the road with me today. There were a couple of things I think he should be aware of.
1) I loved the Harley hard tail with the chopped forks. The chrome engine and the tuned pipes, the stencil work on the Jet black tank, even the curved 1 piece retro handle bars – all were put together in perfect order. The bike is truly a work of art.
2) It’s May, the last week in May perhaps, but its May none the less. That means that while Mother Nature has started to take her medicine, her mood is far from stable!
3) Those grey things in the sky, there called clouds. And while I know that our state is ‘semi-Arid’ it also is “semi-wet’ when those ‘cloud’ things are covering the sun and have been leaking all day – wet is pretty much the only option.
4) When you see cars in front of both of us throwing 4 foot waves into oncoming traffic and into the lane next to them, your time to remain dry is very limited. … I don’t know if you thought somehow the 6 cars crawling in front of us would slash all of the water away, or if you just didn’t think about it.
5) When I pulled as far from you as I could, I didn’t realize the water was deeper over there, enough that my little car threw a wave taller than its own roof. Heck I could have hit the top of my jeep with that wave.
6) Trying to pass me on the right when I am traversing a water hazard, probably not your best idea of the day.
On the bright side, you now have an excuse to re-polish all that chrome, and the bike was sort of still running after your dunking. All that puddle water is going to make those jeans and shirt just smell wonderful. Probably wished you were wearing a jacket, & helmet but that wouldn’t have been as cool!
And FYI – maybe next time just stay a car length behind!
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