Tuesday, September 28, 2010

(Husband) Why are you with me?

When I was an insecure teenager I once a asked a friend, who was a girl, if I was attractive. 

"Ummm.....what do you mean?"

Bad sign, I thought.  I decided to make it easy.  "Like on a scale of 1 to 10."

"I don't know.  How about a 7?"  It sounded as if she hoped I would be satisfied with the answer so we could talk about something else.  I'm sure she was worried the next question would be asking her to the prom. 

At first I interpreted 7 to mean "Barely Palatable" but later had to realize I had attained a solid grade of C.  And you know what?  That's passing.  With a little extra charm, extra muscle, and a nice car I might even work myself up to an 8.  And 8 is awesome!  Now the girls are beginning to take notice. 

When I look at Daisy I see a beautiful woman and think, "I might be of equal attractiveness".  Then I think of the picture above and become frightened.

"Are you with me because of my money?" I say. 

"I hate to say this honey but we just got off of government assistance"

"Is it because of my prestige as a doctor?"

"Well, your not really a doctor per say.  Y'know, like medically speaking."

"Is it because I am the father of your children."

"I'm not entirely sure you are sweetie."

"Then what is it?"

She pinches one of my cheeks, vigorously shakes it from side to side, and says, "Because your so darn cute."

The 14 yr old Goose would have taken that in a heartbeat.  I think I will too.

Monday, September 27, 2010

(Son/Brother) Coordination

Tattooed roller derby woman w/ Fire 2 yrs ago

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.  Part of it was Beast woke me up in such a whiney tone I wanted the scratch my ears off.  I also felt sick (not self inflicted).

The phone rang and it was my sister.  I asked her to call me back because I was breaking up another useless argument between my boys.  I can't even remember what it was but I'm sure, in their minds, it was as important as creating jobs and cutting taxes.

Let's call my sister "tattooed roller derby woman" because that is who she is.  She reminds me mom's b-day is tomorrow and we should do something.  Y'know, being it's her 60th and everything. 

Let me stop here and say something.  Coordinating activities that include humans is as attractive to me as sucking on a hot cattle prod for five minutes.  An example:

Where should we eat?  Jenny is allergic to bread, Dave doesn't like sitting down when he eats, Nancy gags at the smell of cooking onions.

What time should we meet?  Jenny doesn't get off until 5:00 pm, Dave likes to go home and take a half hour bubble bath at exactly 6:00 pm, the only time Nancy has to meet is between 2:30pm and 2:35pm.

You get the idea.  However, the wonderful thing about having a guest of honor is that they get to make the choices and everyone lives with it.

Well, mom doesn't return calls, e-mails, texts, or smoke signals.  I called an all out frontal attack where we not only contacted her through every means of communication but also through her boyfriend which would include (picture emphatic fist pumping) a work phone number.  So here is the thing.  What if the guest of honor doesn't want to be honored?

After both of us had tried for a half an hour we were starting to give up hope.  Then tattooed roller derby woman said, "I still have a phone number we haven't tried.  It's an old phone number but it just might work."

I called it and heard a, "Hello?".

I was shocked and stuttered, "mom?".

"Yeah.  It's been a while"

I made it simple.  "Can tattooed roller derby woman and I come over to your house tomorrow to wish you a happy b-day?  You pick a time and we will be there."

"Well, I'm not really sure if...............excuse, excuse, excuse....."

"I'll bring Gin."

"Be here at 8:00 am.  Sharp!" 

Life lesson on coordination?  Know your audience.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

(Husband) Ring Ring Go Away

My ring is stuck on my finger.  At first I thought,"Oh, my finger is a little swollen right now.  I'll try again later." Well, later came and it still didn't come off.  Then I thought, "What does it really matter?  It's not like it feels uncomfortable."  Well, later it did feel uncomfortable because I realized I didn't have a choice in the matter. 

I told Daisy who asked, "Why would you want your ring off?"  Fair question. 

"I don't know. It's starting to bother me that I don't have the choice.  And with that, my inability to choose wants me want it off all the more."

I tried the grimace and pull method. 

I then tried the lotion and pull method.

I then my finger in cold ice water for ten minutes and then pulled.

Daisy's friend visited, we talked, had a few beers, she plastic wrapped my finger, virgin oiled the plastic wrap, and twisted/pulled until my finger turned white.

I visited a friend of mine, we watched the game, had a few beers, he weaved dental floss around my finger, twist/pull, and my finger turned purple.

Granted, I've gained a few pounds but not enough to make my digits little sausages.  Any suggestions or do I have to get this cut off by a jeweler?

Monday, September 20, 2010

This is Good

Extreme Makeover came to Oregon and helped out the School for the Deaf.  It will be broadcast on Halloween.  There was someone who received unexpected help and wrote about it.

Read the post before the most recent.


(Husband) 10 unhealthy ways to win an argument

It may seem obvious but listening is an important skill to have in a relationship. Pat LaDouceur, Ph.D. writes about the physiological response when an argument becomes frustrating.


It is incredibly difficult to listen when, “Your frontal cortex -- the part of your brain that reasons, plans, and solves problems -- shuts down.” If you would like to save your marriage then follow the steps in the article.  If you would like to always win an argument, at the cost of your relationship, then follow mine.

First, if your partner criticizes you then come back with a criticism that is much worse and with twice the anger. Bottom line, a good defense is a good offense.

Second, write down a list of hurtful things your partner has said. When you get in an argument you can always find your journal and repeat back prior offenses. There is no statute of limitations on prior offenses.

Third, try to use the words always and never in every comment back to them.

Fourth, always be thinking of the next thing to say, even when you are supposed to be listening. Don’t get lulled to sleep by internalizing the constructive comments your partner is making. You will get caught in the trap of finding some truth in what they are saying and will be faced with the temptation to change.

Fifth, don’t be afraid to fight unfairly by twisting their comments around to make yourself the victim. The best outcome is they will always need to say they are sorry even when they don’t have anything to be sorry about.

Sixth, make petty arguments even bigger. Make your partner pay dearly for even thinking about bringing up a criticism. Make them gun shy for the next time they speak. Your honesty is meaningful while their honesty is ridiculous.

Seventh, act like you are the bigger person while still getting your point across. Start with saying something but then stop with, “I’m not going to even say it.” They will want to know what you said so you tell them. If they are hurt, which they will be, tell them they are at fault for wanting to know.

Eighth if it looks as though you might be loosing the argument than retreat into your shell and refuse to talk any further saying something like, “I don’t want to fight anymore. I love you too much to hurt and be hurt.” Again, you are the bigger person.

Ninth, if you have no interest in starting, or furthering discussion, use the, “No, you are” approach. It’s easy, fast, and simple. For example:

Daisy: Could you start putting your dishes in the dishwasher instead of the sink?

Goose: Maybe you should start putting your dishes in the dishwasher instead of the sink.

Daisy: I already do.

Goose: I already do too.

Daisy: No you don’t.

Goose: I’m pretty sure you don’t.

Do you get the idea?

Finally, use divorce threats even if you have no intention on following through.

Best of Luck!!

(Man) Quick and Dirty

Here is me getting Quick and Dirty with two of my female friends.  One is ready while the other is scared.

I’m challenged to make my blog more readable. As I have come to understand, it is not the content as much as the presentation.  Thus the "Dirty".

I have found pictures to be fun and am now going to include more bullet points rather than enormous paragraphs.  The "Quick" is not premature quick but also not boringly long where both people would rather just watch TV. 

I’m going to stick with family topics and less of myself unless it relates to my three favorite people.

Through my cousin’s blog I have found females writers and I absolutely adore them.  But my new goal is to find married male readers. If you know of any would you send this link to them and see if they like it? Maybe they have suggestions to make it better or what topics are more of an interest to them.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

(Man) "You Too!"

A few weeks back I was getting a movie at the local Blockbuster.  The guy rang up the movie, placed it on the counter, and said, "Enjoy the movie.".  I replied, "You too."  I laughed but no one else seemed to have noticed or thought it was funny.  So I dug an even deeper hole by adding, "Y'know, in case you see a movie later tonight."  The guy, and the people in line, gave a half smile and a wave as if to say, "I think we are done talking now."

I went back to my car and remembered a comedian who had made fun of this misuse of phrase (almost 20 years ago).  I found it on the interweb and thought I would share.  It only takes a minute to listen to.


Friday, September 10, 2010

(Father) Old McDonalds

McDonalds is crack for kids. I have heard many parents say, “I didn’t know my child’s eyesight was so good until they saw every McDonalds sign on our trip across town.” They know what the sign means to them. It means joy and happiness in a number of different ways. Scrumptious McNuggets, Fries from Heaven, Nirvana Playland, and Happy Meal Toys from Shangri-la. Forget the calories. They don’t care. Beast poured all of the syrup they gave him onto his Big Breakfast (1100 cal. w/o syrup) pancake and ate like it ain’t nobody’s business. He went ape sh*t on that thing. Actually it was me but I did share a few pieces with him.

Have you heard of the Mosquito teen repellent? Kids can hear it but adults can’t.


Well, they must have made an overhead lighting adult repellent sound in the Playground because that had me scratching my ears off. Beast and Fire could have cared less. Here is my theory, McDonalds wishes the families would leave sooner so other families can come in. And here is the kicker. It is right when the children are starting to have the time of their lives. That way the children will only remember ecstasy at its highest degree and will therefore desire to come back to this playground drug again and again and again anxiously looking for the high they had once experienced.

I already know what you’re going to ask me next. What might be the reason we never know when and how this cesspit is cleaned? I mean, how hard is it to throw a small 14 yr old kid, who is excited to be making minimum wage, into that septic tank with a brush and a bucket of bleach. And how hard would it be to post a date as to when it was done? I’m sorry but I have no answer for that. In fact, it furthers the question as to why I would ever allow my child into that bacteria packed container in the first place? And for the love of all things holy, what would possess me to go in there and contort my body into a backyard folding chair to retrieve Fire who refuses to come out?

Ugh. It has to be love. As many of you know, asking your child if they want to go to McDonalds is like asking if a fly wants to lay its eggs on dung. Of course they do! And the response I get is worth it. My kids feel emotions to its deepest degree and do not have the capacity to screen them. So when they have an overwhelming sense of joy it makes me smile. It makes me happy. Because, as crazy as it sounds, someday I will wish I had the opportunity to take Beast and Fire back to McDonald’s Playland. When Beast turns to me and asks if I wouldn’t mind standing somewhere outside a 20 yard radius of him in a public place I will ask him, “Would you like to go to Mickey D’s!?!?” He will look at me blankly, turn to his friends, and continue with his conversation. And after I have turned to go there will be a tug on my pant leg. I will look down and see a four year old boy.


“Mister, I would like to go to McDonald’s……………..Why are you crying?” I will then reach into my back pocket, pull out a wad of cash and shove it into his hands.

“Buy a camera and tell your mom to take pictures. She will thank me in 10 years.”

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

(Father) Stories

Beast LOOOOOOVES storytelling. I make things up on the fly but only have enough creative juices for one every 4 hours. He wants one immediately following the last. Kind of like lighting a cigarette off of the one you just finished. It’s great because you can see his face light up when I mention key words related to star wars and pirates. I also include him in the story which makes him laugh.

A couple of mornings ago Beast crawled into bed with me at 6:00 am. Daisy had already gone to work so he didn’t have to compete for space. I guess making snow angels helps Daisy sleep. He asks me to tell him a story so I begin to do so. Pirate ships are a safe place to start. Beast then said, “Dad…….DAD!!”


“I can’t hear you.” I wear a night guard and also slur when I’m first waking up. I was too tired to take out the night guard and realized that if I yelled I could still sleep and tell the story more clearly. I was in and out of consciousness so I wasn’t sure if everything I said was making sense. But if he didn’t complain than what did I care?



“What are Vikings?”

“Um, they wear horns on their head.” How did that come out of my brain?

Mumble mumble mumble…….fade to black



“What is Canada?”

“Um, it’s the country above us.” Is this where I sent the Vikings?

Mumble mumble mumble…….fade to black



“Are you talking about Bakers?”

“Um, yeah. They make bread.”


Mumble mumble mumble…….fade to black



“What’s a ‘license’?”

“You need it to be qualified.” Who do I think needs a license?

Mumble mumble mumble…….fade to black



“What’s the Pama channel?”

“It is helping the Vikings get to LA faster.”


“Los Angeles.”

“Are we done now?”


I raise myself up from bed and look at the clock. I kid you not; it was a half hour later. Either I knew what I was talking about the whole time and forgot it as quickly as it came to my mind or else Beast was catching a few words every five minutes and was asking me to clarify. Because to say, “Vikings went to Canada to become licensed bakers and then decided to go through the Panama Cannel takes about 10 seconds.”

After I wrote my short little post a couple of days ago whetting your appetite for what you just read, I was listening to a little NPR on the way to work. It had to do with storytelling being part of our biological makeup and a guy who was about to tell a story to Hollywood producers and the like.


And now for some extra fun!

One of my graduate professors wrote me and asked if I would speak to the class about beginning a career as a Psychologist. I was very happy to do it last year but didn’t expect an invitation back. Evidently I was, “well received”. Since I received a coffee mug last time I said I wouldn’t do it unless I received another one. I told Daisy about my conditions and she asked, “Isn’t this the guy who has written over a hundred journal articles and 4 or 5 books?”

“Um, yeah?”

She rolled her eyes and went back to reading her book. Today I received an e-mail saying he would indeed give me a coffee mug. I was close to asking if the all of the professors in the Psy.D dept. would sign it but decided against it. I’m not sure if he would think it was a joke or not.