There's A Signpost Up Ahead...

Fear. That about describes it. Fear is a good word. Or maybe apprehension is a bit better. Then again terror might just be the best of all. At any rate, the experienced effect underquestion is like soaking yourself in gasoline and then standing there, holding a disposable lighter, and thinking about the sensation to come. Not a pretty picture.

Such is the emotional landscape I find myself surveying. Why, you ask? Because at this moment a young man stands before me bearing the bane of parents everywhere...his drivers permit. Our firstborn, our little man, the eldest of our brood wants to drive my car, and he has the blessing of the state of Georgia to do it. I don't think my heart, lungs, brain, or bowels can take this. How can he possibly be old enough to drive? Just yesterday we were bathing him in the kitchen sink! I am becoming convinced (and I'm mere moments into this thing) that teen driving is the primary cause of mid-life crisis. My hair is greying, my eyes are bagging, and my stomach is on the verge of purging at the thought of it all.

Woe unto me that I was ever born for such a day as this. Woe be unto my pocket book whence I must upgrade my auto insurance. Woe for I am undone at the thought of the first fruits of my loins hurling himself and others hither and yon at speeds approaching 15 MPH!

And so we embark on the next phase of parenting and childing. Next stop, girlfriends!

From the Mouths of Babes

Few things in life will make you feel older than a Birthday. Today is mine. I’m 41. But besides marking the beginning of another year of life, this kind of occasion is a great teaching opportunity. You can teach all kinds of things. For instance, advanced math is a good subject.

As we hung around the house, getting dinner ready and assisting the kids with their homework, I casually conversed with my youngest, Olivia. Tina, seizing upon this rare and exciting math teaching opportunity, said to Olivia, “Today, Daddy is 41. So when you’re 16 he’ll be…?” She immediately completed the sentence, “Dead!”

Testing the Legend

It seems all of our kids are at the age when their teeth fall out in clumps. A few days ago, Mason lost yet another tooth (possibly one of his last). He told us about it but didn't tellus that on that very night, he forgot (or neglected) to place said tooth under his pillow. The next morning, no tooth equaled no cash. The following night, unbeknownst to Mom and Dad, he put the tooth under his pillow but didn't tell anyone whether or not TF paid him a visit. Several days later, curiosity got ahold of Tina at the dinner table and she asked, "Mason, did you ever remember to put your tooth under your pillow?" He replied, "The first night I forgot but the second night I remembered." "And what happened?", Mother queried. "A dollar" came the quick and unemotional reply. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" She continued. At last the cat came out of the bag, "Well, I thought you guys were the tooth fairy so I didn't tell anyone."

I'm sure. We're TF! Whatever!

The Girl Who Tempted Fate

A storm was hanging in the sky, waiting to unload on us, so we contented ourselves with indoor activities. Some played games, some watched TV, at least one cooked dinner. It was patently unremarkable. Given the impending weather, none of us reacted very much when the power went out and then within seconds came back on. Other than the need to reset all the clocks in the house, it wasn't much of a bother…a mere hiccup in the midst of our relaxation.

Go back with me to a few moments earlier and taste what it must have been like to be my own parent. Our youngest, and probably our most mischievous, Olivia, decided that since it wasn't actually raining she would go out side and play until the weather dictated otherwise. As she wandered about the house alone something caught her eye. A large box on the side of the house with a huge handle along side. This particular side of the house is not often visited as it is out of the way. But she visited it. And the handled box tickled her fancy. It was, of course, the main breaker to the entire house and she just had to know what would happen if she pulled that handle! A quick jerk, a loud click, and nothing. So she quickly pushed it back into its original position and continued with her play, ignorant of the demon of electricity she had just played with.

Sometimes I think about the stupid things I did out of ignorance or pure curiosity and it makes me sick to my stomach. When she innocently confessed to what she had done, I think my heart stopped. Even now, we are preparing her shackles to be worn until she's 28.

Cootie Avoidance and the Art of Dress

There are many things in today's world from which to choose as a source of entertainment. For Tina and me one of the things we like to do is watch "What Not to Wear" on the learning channel, wherein the hosts take someone in desperate need of a well developed fashion sense and school them in the arts of proper dress. This schooling includes everything from the do's and don'ts of color matching, to how a pair of pants can flatter even the most unflattering figure. Earlier this week one of the "students" on the show was wearing a pair of pants that were held tightly in place by some overzealous elastic approximately 18 inches above her navel. To further the "look" she wore a standard brassiere that fit in a very non-standard way. The end result was that her top half and her bottom half appeared to be in the process of a continental collision somewhere in the vicinity of her 3rd rib. So, the hosts of the show politely talked her through the proper fit of ladies undergarments. Tina then commented, in an offhanded fashion, "I guess none of mine fit properly."

This weekend was Mothers Day. A day where children celebrate their Mothers and husbands sweat profusely at the prospect of having to explain that they didn't actually forget, they were simply busy preparing for Christmas. So it was that mere days before Mother's Day I was still considering real versus fake Christmas Trees and had yet to do anything tangible for this weekend. That's when fate stepped in in the form of a very poorly dressed woman in an ill fitting bra. This was my chance and I grabbed on with gusto. I proudly announced that we were going to the mall!

Once there I directed the family to the upper level and headed to Victoria's Secret. One of Victoria's secrets is that boys under 25 will melt if they go in the store. So the adults in the group fastened the kids to the rail outside the store and headed in to buy a brand new, properly fitting, extremely comfortable and fabulously attractive bra. Once done we headed out of the store and attempted to hand the bright pink gift bag to the boys. They of course were having none of it. After all, it was pink and probably had terminal cooties.

The next day was Mothers Day. We got ready for church and Tina donned her new bra and her old robe and worked feverishly to get the kids into dressing mode, with some success. At one point she approached Wyatt for who knows what and didn't notice that her bra was showing ever so slightly. Wyatt was very purposeful in his avoidance of eye to bra contact. Just looking at it might bring on who knows what kind of disease. So I jokingly asked why he was so embarrassed to which he replied, with emphasis on each letter, "I do not want to see her B-R-A-W-L."

Nick 'Lee', er Lewis

Yesterday was such a good day. I drove to Loomis to watch Nick take his test for his Advanced Green Belt in his self defense class. I had a chance to meet his instructor, Conrad Woodall. He and I clicked because he is a retired Police Officer. He is the owner of Woodall's Self Defense and Fitness.

Well, I got there about 5 minutes ahead of time and was told almost immediately that spectators were not allowed in the gym during testing. Boy was I disappointed. But I had the chance to take some photos of Nick before he took his test. I could tell he was nervous, because the test is one full hour long and is supposed to be pretty rigorous. So I left and came back about 5 minutes before his test was done. As I walked up to the door, I could hear Nick inside yelling, "ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, ..." I later learned that he was doing punches.

At the conclusion I was invited back in and saw my very red faced, dripping sweat son seated exhastedly on the mat. His instructor was grilling him on some excellent life scenarios and how his training applied to life. Nick was taking it all in, while trying to breathe. Well, he passed his test and I was able to see him recieve his Advanced Green Belt and a trophy for doing so well. What a proud moment for me.

I took Nick to lunch at Applebee's and we talked and talked about his experience and the test. WOW, what an amazing experience. Nick said his arms were shaking he was so tired. Well, he scarfed down the biggest steak, fries, and 3 cokes. What a dude! When you see him you will have to ask him all about it.

Uncle Scott

A Quiet Weekend of Camping

Our little pocket of humanity rarely slips below the 4 or 5 population level. So when it does it is something noteworthy. The constant roar that incessantly fills the background gives way to near silence and for one brief shining moment there is peace and quiet. Then the quiet fatigue sets in and you can’t wait for the sounds of little voices and feet echoing from all over the house. This weekend was such a time.

Samuel was out of town all weekend with his school. They visited several historic sites up and down the eastern seaboard. Mason and Wyatt were off camping with the Royal Rangers. That left only Olivia, Tina, and me. Despite what you might think about Olivia, she can be downright noiseless when her brothers are not around. I rather think she enjoyed it. Soon, Samuel will tell all about his trip, so I won’t steal his thunder here. But the camp out bears mention.

This was Wyatt’s first big camp out with the Royal Rangers so he was very excited. Mason, too, was looking forward to being the big brother, the one who knew everything and could mentor his little brother in the ways of the wild. And from all reports after the fact, things got really wild, but not in a wild, natural, outdoorsy kind of way. Rather, it was because of some of the other campers (from a different group of Royal Rangers). It seems that a couple of the older boys thought it would be cool to flirt with the edge of the rules or just plain ol’ disobey them. So they made every effort to use inappropriate words and do things that are not becoming of young men of God. And unfortunately, they chose to do many of these things in the presence of my boys. Those are the moments you wish your kids were locked in the cellar away from the negative influences of the world. But you can’t do that so you hope and pray that you have done them right up to that point and that they will remember the lessons of their youth.

When I picked them up they were tired and dirty and really looking forward to climbing into their own beds. On they way home they brought me up to speed on the events of the weekend, including the bad kids. Wyatt said from the back seat in his hardest tough guy voice, “Dad, there were some boys there who were cussing at us. (he repeated this phrase several times to ensure I heard him as both boys were yammering simultaneously) and Mason said one of them even moaned him.” Mason corrected him, “He mooned me!” So I said to Wyatt, “You didn’t use those words, did you?” “No.” he replied. “I didn’t even know what those words they meant, except I think I heard one of the before!” He continued, “and I even found a pack of cigarettes with cigarettes still in it.” “What did you do?” “I didn’t pick them up. I told one of my commanders!”

In Hooville they say that the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day! I couldn’t be more proud of my little men.