Thursday, October 28, 2010

Ten Years and Counting

Today marks 10, yes I said 10, years of wedded bliss.  It was this day, those many years ago when the LW decided she could no longer live without me.  She took one good long look at me and said, "Yes, he must be mine.  I need to snap up that tall drink of water before some other woman sees him and tries to steal him away."

There are numerous versions of our courtship, but that is the one that sticks out the most.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Extra Pick Up

When I was a young man, free of familial encumbrances and responsibilities, life ran at a different pace.  I did what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it.  You could easily say my world revolved around me.  It was a happy place.  

Fast forward 10 years, one wife and four children later, life looks a little different.  As much as I would still like the world to revolve around me, sadly, it does not.  Today, for example, I went to our children's school 3 times.  Normally, twice is a lot.  I drop off two of my four children there in the morning for what I have been assured is an excellent education and well worth the East Wing I did not know I was sponsoring.

However, today was not the usual Fun Friday where the week happily ends and the weekend happily begins.  After drop-off, I merrily went on my way and got some exercise.  I then found myself in my trusty vehicle driving down 14th Street when the phone rings.  It is the school.  My eldest daughter Demi had gotten sick and needed to be rescued.  Not a problem.  I was close.

When a child is sick and needs to go home, it means one thing and one thing only- throw up.  Few things are worse to a child, or an adult for that matter.  About the only thing that is worse than actually throwing up, is doing it in public in front of your class.  I distinctly remember the day in chapel in first grade when Warner Bonner threw up all over his Lovett shirt, leaned forward so he could see around the children between us, and said, "Strib, look what I just did."  I think he was proud of it.  Girls do not share that same sense of pride.  I also remember when a young lady who shall remain nameless, threw up on the floor right in the middle of our classroom.  From that day forth I could not look her in the eyes, and we were in school together for the next 10 years.  I avoided that place in the classroom for the rest of second grade.  These things can be scarring, and are remembered vividly for at least 30 years.  Poor Demi.  I just hope she has the personality to get her friends to look beyond it.  If not, she is going to have a long and laborious tenure at HPS.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Sir Woodrow


I have a friend named Woody who is blessed with a high sense of fashion and a timely word.  On this particular evening, he did not disappoint.  The LW and I were going to a party down the street for a friend who was turning 40.  We like to attend parties together and be social.  With four children, we rarely get to do this kind of thing anymore, so an evening out fills buckets for us that often lie empty.  Woody has three lovely daughters, and was bringing the eldest over to babysit so the LW and I could jet out the door.  We made sure that the kids were ready for bed, well fed, bathed the dirtiest ones, and were about to get ourselves ready.  

Woody rings the doorbell, dapper as ever, especially for a weekday evening.   Together, the three of us stand in the doorway, enjoying the friendly banter, unaware of what awaits, .  Our third child, Josie, walks by the top of the stairs in her Auburn cheerleader's outfit and smiles down on us.  Woody, looks up at her, and says, "Isn't she cute in that outfit."  He was right.  She was cute.  Then, she opened her mouth and threw up.  I am not even sure she blinked.  One minute she is standing there innocently, a cherub of a three year old girl.  The next minute, she is throwing up her body weight.  I was almost ready for her head to start spinning around.  The LW runs upstairs, nimble as ever, scoops her up and plops her in the tub, cheerleading outfit and everything.  She was not there in time to save the hall carpeting, but she did keep it from getting worse.  I, as usual, was standing there holding our fourth child, staring stupidly up the stairs.  I turned to Woody, who says, "Well, welcome to parenthood.  Have a nice evening."  He then grabs his daughter, closes the door behind them and leaves.  He probably covered the two of them in a thick coating of hand san before they got in his car out front.  Needless to say, we did not go out that evening. 

Well done Sir Woodrow.  Well done.