It’s been a busy few weeks. Seems like every time I had a break from more pressing activity and sat down to write, something happened. As an example, this past week we hit a warm spell, and I began thinking the bike battery was probably discharged and the tank in the gas might be going stale. Fortunately, after washing and waxing, it cranked over and fired right up.
I believe everyone knows a bike can be damaged if not allowed to come up to operating temperature once started, so I was forced to go for a quick run down the highway. Three hours, just like that. Terrible waste of time.
When we were a young family, my wife and I decided to have only male children. We had determined that they would be the least costly, both financially and emotionally. If we squandered their college funds on fast cars, motorcycles and firearms they could still turn to heavy manual labor as careers. My wife seemed to adapt to an all male environment, although her: being pretty, need for neatness, sense of organization, and higher levels of intelligence and sensibility somewhat separated her from the pack. Still, hunting, fishing, camping and pulling a trailer hitch disconnected boat out of the fast lane of I-90 were all things she took in stride. Eventually, things began to change.
Our sons stopped bringing home girls with purple punked hair and forehead tattoos. Several of the new arrivals were able to form almost whole words and sentences, verbal skills our guys were still attempting to master. College years came and went, degrees and sighs of relief all around, gainful employment followed shortly there after. Progressively, each son began dating a new type of woman; attractive in an attractive sort of way, intelligent, short, well grounded, and directing in nature. It was a little scary. Conversations were elevated from grunting and seeing whose turn it was to barbeque the burgers or bring the beer, to “political discourse” and “key points of a responsible environmental policy”. I was no longer allowed to sit at the dinner table in sweats and solve America’s International relations problems with, “So bomb the SOB’s”. My wife an I got to reminiscing about the good old days when an exotic dancer named Tameie (yes, the spelling is correct) sought Diane’s counsel on how to reel in her eldest son. Apparently Diane’s advice of “Dress conservatively, don’t shave your under arms or take a bath, my son is drawn to natural women” wasn’t quite on the mark.
This new generation of women began visiting, for no apparent reason. My wife began to hold clandestine meetings with them where they would laugh and exchanged copious notes. Diane divulged vital secrets regarding the control and management of our sons. She formed a coalition, a militant sisterhood dedicated to basically screwing with our collective male minds and leisure time activities. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen. I began sleeping with at least one eye open, while she slept obviously without a care in the world. Then there were a series of raids. When the smoke cleared, all of my sons, dropped like flies, married everyone of them. Sure, they looked happy. They were more positively motivated and in better health. The beer bellies were gone, removed by “sensible diets” and “healthy levels of exercise”, and they began to excel at work and carve out careers for themselves. I knew it was all a front, they’d rather return to their sports loving slovenly lazy ass ways. But what could they do and how could I help? There were no 4 of them and 4 of us. Where women are concerned, that meant we were out numbered. Laying low seemed the best approach.
Things began to change, there was hope on the horizon. One grandchild was born – a boy. Alright! Then another – neat! Then one more – OK! 7 to 4, we were ready to take back control, we were overtaking THEM. Then it happened, a complete surprise, reinforcements. February 26, 2004 Sophia Nicole arrived at 8lbs 14 oz. and 21.5″ long. I’ll have to excuse myself for now, apparently I need to help burp the baby…and begin the process of convincing her to come over to OUR side.
Thanks
Joe
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