Monday, October 31, 2011

Enough Candy to Last a Whole Year

4 miles of walking, 2 restroom breaks back at home ("Can't I just go behind that tree?" was ruled out immediately), 3 pumpkins full of candy, baths, 2 stories read and both boys in bed before 9 p.m.

Among the highlights of the night was Trot yelling at the top of his lungs at everyone he saw "Who are YOU?!" and upon ringing the door of one house, yells out "Hey! You've got TWO wiener dogs?!"

Happy Halloween from my weird little corner of the world.

Friday, October 28, 2011

Friday with Trot.

"I've got an emergency."


"I think I flushed my amethyst ring down the toilet."


"Trot was playing with your shaving cream in the bathroom and had it all over the sink, floor, and toilet. I cleaned it all up and I think I threw my ring AND the toilet paper into the bowel."


Yet another one of those conversations that I have with Ang on a seemingly daily basis about Trot; turns out he spewed my shaving cream all over the bathroom (he told his Mom he was writing her a love letter. May I remind you he's 5. How does he come up with this stuff?) and in the process of cleaning it up and yelling her head off my dear, sweet wife thought she'd flushed a $500 dollar ring (a gift from my brother in law about 10 years ago) down the toilet.

Thankfully we found it in the trash can, tangled up in the bag that came out of the bathroom can.

No, I have no idea how this happened. And no, I didn't say a word.

But the fact a valued piece of jewelry can end up in a trash can thanks to a 5 year old, a can of shaving cream, and a demented mind is frightening on about 300 levels.

One day, this kid will drive a car.

May God Have Mercy on our Souls.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Learning from a 13 year old.

I went and ate lunch with Ciera at school today, which is no small miracle since she's in 8th grade now and I figured the last thing she'd want was her old man coming to school and all her friends seeing how "awkward" I am. (Awkward is her new favorite word. Rakes is awkward, a movie scene is awkward, me wanting to take our picture is awkward, me wearing jeans and flip flops is awkward,.... you get the idea.)

Yet last night, when her Mom asked if I was eating with the boys today she very firmly and very loudly said "He's eating with ME."

So I did.

Upon arriving, she had me sit next to her and I pried out of her what had gone on that day while she looked distracted. I figured it was because "he who shall not be named" was sitting one table over and I was asking her if I should go over and say hello. Turns out, she was just waiting on everyone else to get to the table.

Then, her and about 8 girls at our table and her cousin and about 8 boys, including the one on my hit list, all bowed their heads, held hands, and prayed for their food. Turns out they do this everyday and don't really care if other kids or the teacher have a problem with it.

I never did anything that gutsy when I was 13.

Just when I thought I couldn't be more proud of her, she goes and throws me a curve ball.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Pass the Pepto.

I'm not going to mention this kids name, but according to Ciera he's, and I quote, "Just my friend, Dad."

She sits with him on the bus, talks about him constantly, and tonight went with one of her girl friends to a Haunted House here in town where she told her Mother, who somehow is happy about all of this, that he'd be there and told me he probably wouldn't be.


I gotta admit; I'm about as ready for this as I am for Alf to land in my back yard with ET and the two of them set up a tent and stay for a week.

Can this really be happening already? Is it too late to buy a gun? Can I train Rakes and Trot to take out a human being with nothing more than a Pokemon card and a plastic sword? Better yet, even though I'm not Catholic will they accept her into the local nunnery?

The next 5 years are gonna be like riding the Tilt-a-Whirl at some local carnival.

Fast, scary, and I'm gonna feel like throwing up after it's over.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011


Due to the fact Trot conked out on the couch with his legs draped across my lap around 7 and Rakes basically sticking toothpicks in his eyelids to stay awake around 8, something happened tonight that hasn't happened in a long, LONG time.

I carried both my sons up the stairs to bed, one sound asleep and the other not too far behind.

And as I tucked each of them into bed and said their prayers with them, I found myself doing something I very rarely do.

Fighting back tears.

'Cause as fast as they grow up and as big as they seem to me now, they are still just two little boys who wanted their Dad to sometimes tuck them into bed at night.

And that made me one happy, somewhat frazzled, Dad.

Sometimes you can't ask for more than that.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Sure. This won't end badly.

As soon as I took Trot's training wheels off today and watched him practically burn rubber down the drive way I asked myself the following question.

"What in God's name did you just do?"

This is a kid who I caught jumping from the landing at the top of our stairs onto the couch last week, a kid who would play frogger on the Interstate, and so far in his 5 years on earth has shown exactly zero fear of anything.

So naturally I take off the two things keeping him from being the 21st century version of Evel Kenevil.

I fully expect a ramp 8 feet high to be built and sitting in my driveway by Wednesday.

If I'm lucky.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Requiem to a Day Off.

Took the kids fishing today and all the tangled lines, multiple "Dad. I'm hung on a rock" moments, high blood pressure, Ciera and Rakes getting soaking wet jumping out onto a rock, and the cost of the worms was worth it when Ang put Trot to bed and he said, with a grin as big as the lake we fished on......

"I sure had fun tishing today, Mom."

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Can Pedroia Pitch?

I'm not gonna re-hash the events of September have turned the Red Sox, in one brutal month, from a model franchise to the MLB's equivalent of The National Enquirer. It's all been documented by men and women who write a whole lot better and with way more knowledge about it than me.

As a fan, it makes me sad that the greatest manager this team ever had and the G.M. who led them back to the promised land are both gone within a week of each other. It makes me angry some idiot decided to throw a good man in Terry Francona under the bus on his way out.

I wish Mikey Lowell's body could have made it one more year because I've got a feeling if Scenic was still in that locker room some of the stupid stuff we've been reading about never would have happened. Or Schilling or Timlin or Trot or any of the guys that you KNOW wouldn't have allowed the inmates to start running the asylum.

I've watched every game of the post season so far and watching these teams fight and battle and jump up and down and in general act like little kids getting to play a game for a living is reminding me yet again of why I love this game so much.

I just hope the guys in Boston are watching too.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

I Need An Agent. And some Prozac.

Amazingly, there is a "Trot peeing somewhere inappropriately" story that I hadn't heard until tonight.

My Mother-in-Law is the secretary at our church and today she was having a meeting with the Pastor and another employee. They were in our pastor's office and at some point in the meeting the other employee looked out the window and commented on how beautiful some sort of bush was.

She then asked what happened to the other ones that had been there before, and Darrell, with a serious face, uttered "I don't know, but the one that is there is the one Trot peed in about 3 years ago".

This was right about the time Trot stopped wearing a pull up and would pee in anything when the urge occurred; plastic alligator, vase, garage floor, flower pot, and apparently the bushes at church. Ang remembers running to get him and looking up to see our Pastor merrily waving hello at her and Trot at the time.

How this story has eluded me for 3 years is a mystery, but what is truly amazing is the bush he peed on has flourished while the others have gone the way of the Dodo bird.

It's like "Where the Red Fern Grows".

Trot style.

Monday, October 10, 2011

You don't get "I really wanna chew and curse and I can't" from every broadcast.

*Image courtesy of Kelly O and*

I sincerely hope somebody in the upper echelon of FOX Sports was watching the first two games of the ALCS and now realizes just how God awful horrible the combination of Buck and McCarver truly is.

Maybe they're like Rakes and Trot; if I separate the two they are like angels. Put the two together and it's WW3. So putting Tito with Buck made the latter infinitely more listenable and Francona was fantastic. He honestly blew me away with how composed, funny, and insightful he was for an entire broadcast.

Possibly this would work the other way as well; put a new play by play guy with McCarver and maybe he's not so bad, although I highly doubt it. He's been on auto-pilot for years now and the last time he came up with something insightful was probably during the Nixon administration.

And as much as I enjoyed Tito, get ANYBODY to take over. At this point, Mayor Menino of Boston would be better, and Jr calls him "Mumbles" if THAT tells you anything. Give me John Smoltz or Boomer Wells or Mickey Rivers for God's sake; HE makes as much sense as McCarver does these days.

Wally Pipp had Lou Gherig and hopefully McCarver had his these first two games.

'Course this is the network of Rupert Murdoch and Bill O'Reilly.

So don't hold your breath.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Just Win, Baby

Yeah, he was nuts.

And yeah, he could be an ornery SOB.

But the world of sports got the short end of the stick with the passing of Al Davis. Look up "Maverick" in the dictionary and if they are telling the truth there is a picture of Al Davis there.

He was born in New England, grew up in New York, and sounded like a cross between Rhett Butler, Vinnie from the Bronx and my Uncle Possum when he talked. He wore his hair like a 50's Hood, thought black and white jogging suits were the height of fashion, and LOVED speed.

The physical kind, not the drug.

He was the ultimate bad guy in a sport full of 'em and relished every minute of it. And in this age of political correctness he was one of the last links to an era where you said what you believed and didn't give a rip if it offended somebody. He collected bad attitudes and guys who were thought to be past their prime and proceeded to win Division Titles and Championships along the way.

Best thing about Al? If you were a Raider even once, you were a Raider for life.

And in this time of "what have you done for me lately" a guy like Al Davis was a rarity.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

They Ain't the Prettiest. But They'll Do.

As I sit and watch Game 5 of the ALDS and pray Detroit can take the Yankees out (3-1 Tigers in the top of the 6th right now) I got to thinking about all the things about not having the Yankees, and to a lesser extent the Red Sox in the playoffs for the rest of the way would make me happy.

10. No stupid re-hashing of 1978, 2003, and this September. And you KNOW if the Yankees or Red Sox make the World Series FOX is dusting each and every one of them off and running it into the freaking ground.

9. Tony LaRussa micro-managing the game like some demented chess player. He may be one of those guys who is actually too smart for his own good.

8. Being able to sit back and watch the game without developing a bleeding ulcer. This happens whether it's the Red Sox or the Yankees. Combine the two and I'm main lining Tums until Christmas.

7. The Brewers. Animal House meets the 2004 Red Sox with the added bonus of the bigg
est "vegetarian" in Prince Fielder I've ever seen.

6. The random come out of nowhere player that you never imagined turning into this years October hero. My money this year is on Delmon Young; if only for the sightings of his brother Demitri in the stands. When I last saw this guy he looked like the Yokuzuna version of a baseball player, and that was when he was PLAYING.

5. Giving the casual fan the experience of seeing just how good Miguel Cabrera really is.

4. The World Series could be played in Detroit. After the recession and the decline of the automobile industry and the 25 percent unemployment in what was once a great industrial c
ity, how cool would it be for the Tigers to rally the state of Michigan together, if only for a few weeks?

3. Roy Halladay vs Justin Verlander THREE separate games? This is the 2011 version of Gibson vs. Koufax.

2. This guy.
A baseball lifer who finally got his break and then almost threw it all away by doing cocaine, Ron Washington has a infectious love for the game and his players that makes my heart happy. He's a players manager and every quote from every Ranger I've ever read gives me the feeling they'd run through a concrete barrier for the guy.

And finally,

1. Jim By God Leyland.

He's looked like this since 1991 when he managed the Pirates and he's only 66 years old. He chain smokes Marlboro's, drinks his weight in coffee every day, uses the word Horse*(&% the way most of us use "OK" and mumbles his way through every stupid in game interview MLB makes him do. He's one of the last links to "Old School" baseball the game has left and he's been a winner almost everywhere he's been.

I love guys like Jim Leyland. He'll cuss a guy out and then start crying when talking about how much he loves the guy. He's an AL manager who'll double steal, put on the squeeze play, and tell a guy to hit away at 3-0, all in the same inning.

He reminds me of Sparky Anderson and Earl Weaver and Casey Stengal and in this age of Sabermetrics and new age technology and Bill James "Hot Chart" or whatever it's called it's nice to know there is a guy who will play a guy like Don Kelly and hit him second in the lineup just on the basis of "his gut".

I love this game.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

He's no George Washington

Sometime between this summer and the start of Kindergarten Trot apparently turned into Jim Carey from "Liar, Liar". From spinning whoppers that would make Paul Bunyan blush to the one that has me and his mother scratching our head.

Every day he's been telling his teacher he has to buy milk and for the first couple of weeks, she went along with it. Until I emailed her and told her that he brings his lunch EVERY DAY and doesn't need to buy milk.

So yesterday he again buys milk, then comes in from recess to report the miraculous discovery of a Yoohoo in his book bag, claiming no prior knowledge of said milk product. So, after getting home from school yesterday we have an EXTREMELY long talk about lying and more to the point, lying to our teacher. After much pleading, crying, begging, and promising no more lying, I was confident we had the problem under control and he'd turn down the path of the righteous.

Right up to the point I got ANOTHER email today from the teacher saying Trot had emphatically told her he HAD to buy milk and did NOT have his own.

Which was proven false about 3 seconds later when his teacher opened his lunch box.

I have no idea what is so magical about the milk at school, why he feels like he needs to lie about it EVERY day, and what exactly is going through his skull because when I ask him why this is going on he just looks and me and mutters "I don't know, Dad".

Most kids will lie about bad words or stealing or cheating or peeing in the punch bowl; leave it to Trot to be completely honest about all THAT stuff yet feel the need to perjure himself over a 50 cent carton of milk.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Ciera and Cinderella

I blame the Red Sox collapse in September for making me this melancholy. If they were still in it I wouldn't be spending Sunday night watching the Ravens/Jets, flipping back to the Cardinals/Phillies game and DEFINITELY wouldn't be surfing YouTube and stumbling across this video.

13 going on 30 and as much as I try I can't slow it down.