Father's Day!

It's Father's Day! Woohoo!! Time for some stories and pictures of my Pops!

I hated riding the bus when I was in elementary school. SO much. It was kinda scary. The kids were loud, annoying, and most of the time mean. But that was bearable. What made it the worst, was that moving vehicles put me to sleep. I remember falling asleep a few times, and missing my stop. As a kid, what this escalates to is "I AM NEVER GOING TO GET HOME! I'M LOST FOREVER!!!" On days when my mom would tell me to ride the bus home, I dreaded the end of the day. Because obviously, today was the day I would never make it home.

On several occasions, my loving Father was a site for sore eyes. The bus would pull up to my street, and low and behold, there was my Dad, waiting in his truck.

That didn't just mean that I was getting a ride down the long, desolate, and treacherous road (it was a half mile, with houses every 100 ft), but I GOT TO RIDE IN THE BACK OF THE TRUCK! That, right there... shows love. 

How did I repay this love?

 I made fun of my Father while he was sleeping, wellofcourse! Is that not what any loving, admiring, young child does?



In my defense... he really does snore quite loudly.

My siblings and I also made sure to ruin any of his social interactions.

Haha... I still sing it incorrectly.



Like my Mother, my Father taught me many wonderful things. Some things I learned were to work hard, be supportive, and how it is important to express love. More importantly though, I learned how to shoot peas from my nose.

I'm about to get a bit serious up in here. Just for a little bit. Deal with it.

One of the fondest memories I have with my father are of him reading to me. It didn't happen a ton, but I sure loved it. He would most often read to me from a book called "Voyage of the Basset" by James C. Christensen. The illustration is absolutely beautiful. I believe my desire to study art originated from the fondness I have for that book, and my Dad's own drawings. For that, Dad, I thank you.

I didn't always have a great relationship with my Dad. In fact, in high school, my attitude towards my dad was downright malicious. I took for granted all the things he had done, and all the ways he had provided for me. Unfortunately, I didn't realize this until leaving for college.

My Dad was the one to drop me off at the airport. We hugged and said our goodbyes.

While waiting on the plane, I started to feel a little sad. I'm pretty sure that my future self came back, and punched me in the face...

...'Cause it suddenly hit me why I was sad.

I am very blessed to have such awesome parents. Thanks for all you've done Daddy. I hope you're having a fantastic day!

My Dearest Mother

Over the years, I and my siblings have learned many lessons from our mother. She taught us to cook, clean, write, read (some of us more than others), work hard. The usual things that a mother teaches to her children. Then there are other, more unique things she has taught us.

Like the value of sleep. Older sister learned this lesson many times.

She taught me that it is important to take care of one's health.

(I always ask exactly what medicine she is giving me after this experience)

 She never missed a chance to teach us the proper way to punish naughty children. Older Brother, and Oldest Sister often provided the perfect opportunities for such lessons.

She set the example of valuing tasty treats.

And especially to never waste tasty treats. EVER.

She wasn't afraid to slam on the breaks of life (and her Subaru Forester) for a chance to enjoy nature.

She has always been there for us.

At night, to wipe away the tears from a bad dream...

...And during the day to provide plenty of entertainment.

Here's to you Mom!

Happy Mother's Day

Easter Bunny

I was a gullible child. I mean, SUPER gullible. I believed in Santa Claus until 6th grade. I was almost 12 years old one Christmas day, when I started thinking about him. I was looking at a radio/cd player the big man had left for me and it dawned on me. There was NO WAY a single person could get around the world, visiting every single house along the way, in one night. Or fit down chimneys. Plus, reindeers can't fly. My realization was solidified when oldest sister came down the stairs and saw me looking at my present. She asked "who'd you get that from, Santa?" She smiled and walked away. Life got much less magical after that day.

There was a day, sometime close to Easter when I was a bit younger, before I had the magic completely ripped from my life, that little sister and I were looking for something. I have no idea what we were looking for, but we were having a hard time finding it. As anyone with a mother (or wife) does, we decided to ask Momma if she knew where the item was.

That was a much harder task than one might think. Especially because Momma was reading a book. I remember times that I actually had to put my hand in from of the words she was reading to get her attention. On this occasion, I used a method some might recognize from a popular animated youtube clip. This was way before the clip, mind you, but I don't have any difficulty imagining where they got the inspiration.

I don't know why I took such a risk. Momma and Pappa's closet was usually off limits. Especially around holidays. I knew this, yet I still suggested we look in it. Had I only known...

Little sister and I found a paper grocery bag FULL of candy. How did I not connect the two? One would think I would have seen it, and that Easter + bag of hidden candy = NO EASTER BUNNY. I wonder how many lies people told me that I believed without thinking twice.

It didn't click. So like the naive little child I was, I ran off to inform my mom of the hidden treasure. Because, ya know, obviously she didn't know about it.

To clarify. Momma is one of the coolest, most laid back, nicest people one could meet. So us children must have been especially annoying on the given day. That would also explain why the book was being read. It would have been a way to escape the spastic children, without leaving the house.

Oh....

Dad-in-law VS. Hammer

My in-laws live on a small farm. 

For a few summers Br., W., and I lived with them. During one of the summers, my Dad-in-law was working on building a shed in the backyard. 

He was working by himself. For some odd reason, he thought it would be ok to leave his hammer on top of the ladder.

Then he forgot about it, and tried to move the ladder.

Bad. Idea.

W. and I were inside with sister-in-law one, her husband, and their two daughters; fuzz head, and unimpressed.   Br. was at work. We were all enjoying a movie when Dad-in-law came in and sat down. We all just assumed he was joining our little party.

Then we found out...

...We were very wrong. 

Dad-in-law had a scout meeting, and knew that if he went to the emergency room, he would miss it. So instead, using his ingenuity, decided to have sister-in-law one stitch it up for him! I was feeling rather grossed out. Sister-in-law one's husband grew up in a house full of boys. He wasn't phased by the situation at all. Apparently, his mother was quite practiced in stitching people back together. 

I am still puzzled as to why we thought it was a good idea to heed the request of a man who just got hit in the head with a hammer.

After several minutes of studying a certain stitch on youtube, practicing by drawing on a napkin,  numbing dad-in-law's head with an ice cube, and sterilizing I believe dental floss in some hydrogen peroxide, it began. Luckily, W. decided it was the perfect time to eat. I don't know how sister-in-law one did it. The thought of shoving a needle through someone's flesh, and dragging "thread" through it, kinda makes me want to vomit.






While I was in my room nursing W., I got a phone call.






Lucky for me, mom-in-law had been trying to call dad-in-law. When she couldn't get through to him, she decided to give me a call. She asked me if dad-in-law was sleeping, and if that was why he wasn't picking up his phone. For some reason, I couldn't think of a way to say "I know why he wasn't answering, but I'll let him explain when you get home." Instead, I told her what had happened.

As you can imagine, she was not all that pleased with my tale. They happen to have insurance. Insurance which would have covered the trip to the ER, and made sure the wound was cleansed and properly sutured.






I tried to make W. eat faster. I wanted him to be done so I could warn the others. But, being a baby, he took his own sweet time. He finished just as mom-in-law was pulling into the driveway. I ran out to warn my comrades. It was too late for dad-in-law. He was in the bathroom checking out his patched head. I only had time enough to warn sister-in-law one and her husband.






As soon as I had finished speaking, mom-in-law came through the door. She simply asked "where is he?" If you like, you can read that in a Batman kind of voice. It might be more accurate.






We waited as the poor, helpless, wounded gazelle was devoured by the lioness.