Reflections of a Freaking Genius

You know your relationship with your spouse has reached a whole new level when the kids are gone for a few days, and the first thing you do to kick up your heels and have some fun is...go to the eye doctor together. I've seen a lot of books about marriage (some of which were actually helpful), and some of those books talk about doing things together to keep the flame going, to keep love alive, or to keep things fresh...I'm not 100% sure, but I'm relatively certain none of them had in their list of date ideas: "Get your eyes checked together". That date idea carries with it some inherent risk.  Maybe her lack of good eyesight is one of the reasons she's hanging with me...she just hasn't had a good look at me yet!  Well, risk notwithstanding, after we met some old friends for lunch and went to a really exciting birthday party for a 6 year old, we went to the eye docs office. My wife had been to this office before, so I was handed the clipboard with 2 hou...

It used to be so easy.  I think I said last week, and some of you who follow the blog can testify, that when I was a kid I used to look like a severely malnourished kid with twigs for arms and legs and most of my ribs could be counted if my shirt was off.  I was FAR from starvation, though.  Mom and Dad used to call me the 'garbage disposal'.  Yep, like the one in your sink.  You can pretty much shove anything down the gullet of your garbage disposal that isn't that random spoon that gets away and it will be gone in a matter of seconds.  That was me.  There were seldom leftovers that would make it to the fridge to be devoured at a later time.  If there was anything left after everyone else pushed back from the table, it was MINE!  It's a wonder there was anything left after the mealtime mayhem subsided.  Dad had been a Marine in his early days after high school; a drill instructor to be exact.  Then he had spent years as a captain...

Reflections of a Freaking Genius: Heigh Ho...Off To Freakin (?) Work We Go : Someone said once that 'work' is the most vile four letter word out there.  Mom and Dad always told us that we shouldn't use fou...

Someone said once that 'work' is the most vile four letter word out there.  Mom and Dad always told us that we shouldn't use four letter words.  I remember the feelings that the word evoked in me as a kid when I heard Dad say, "Let's get to work!".  The negative vibe shot through me from head to toe like wasp venom after a sting, instantly sending my sensibilities into shock.  It wasn't the same feeling as I had when I heard other four letter words like "play" or "cake".  See?  Not all four letter words are bad!  Mom and Dad were quick to teach my backside which four letter words were appropriate and which were not as I grew up.  Somehow they hoped the vocabulary lesson would make the journey from my butt to my mouth.  There must have been road construction and a few detours, because I think that lesson is still wondering around in me somewhere, hopelessly freakin lost...somewhere behind that &%$*(# dinkin around in the left lane on...