Doughnut Showers

On Friday, the boys and I decided to treat ourselves to a weekend of decidedly unhealthy breakfasts in the form of Krispy Kreme doughnuts.  Sometimes as I need to rely on incentive to positively reinforce behaviors.  Yeah, that’s gotta be it – definitely not because I have a sweet tooth too.

When we arrived, the boys begged and pleaded to go inside rather than go through the drive-through.  I relented because I decided to get some of that “My Dad is the Greatest! (TM)” feeling going on.  Oh yeah, and even dictators listen to suggestions from the subjugated from time to time.

Of course, anybody who has been to Krispy Kreme is fully aware that the process of making the doughnuts is made visible via glass viewing areas as soon as you walk in the door.  As expected, the boys made a beeline for the viewing area.

The next twenty minutes passed with a flurry of activity as I rushed to satiate the demands of two little boys who thought it was the coolest thing in the world that they could see the production of the doughnuts.  It’s a good thing they wash that glass… the boys were practically licking it in an attempt to see what the warm doughnuts tasted like.

The best part of the entire visit?  Carter and Toliver both decided that when the glazing was being applied, the doughnuts were “taking a shower.”  I passed that on the the clerk behind the counter (who was kind enough to give each of the boys a free doughnut) and apparently she’s never heard it described like that before.  I truly wasn’t surprised –  I encourage alternate thinking in my house.

As long as it fits within the expectations set forth by the dictator, namely me.

Toliver's Birthday

Toliver had a great 3rd birthday today, although I definitely found myself a bit frustrated.  Of course, it was completely my fault.

First, I slacked off when it came to wrapping the presents.  I actually did great (by my standards anyway) and purchased just about everything almost two weeks ago.  Since I’m a guy, that’s almost unheard of.  Turns out I guessed right; I’ve only had about an hour or so to myself where I could go shopping.

Last night I made a decision that I would start getting the presents wrapped.  I ended up watching some TV for a while, until it was almost midnight. Crap.  Even worse, rather than actually wrap presents, I decided it would be a good time to install my surround sound in the living room.  Sounds great now, but I still needed to get going.

My backup plan was lunchtime.  Unfortunately I had week willpower against peer pressure so I went down to Charley’s with Brian and Preston.  Whoops.  I ended up cutting out of work a bit early, and I was able to get everything squared away by 4:30pm.

Toliver had great fun opening his presents, but I had a bit of an issue with the packaging.  Whomever decided it was a good idea to secure a powered truck to a bit of cardboard with 8 screws and then make it essentially impossible to get the bottom side where the screws are deserves to be shot.  I wasted almost 5 minutes just trying to get to the screws.  The photo only shows a small portion of the anger.

Toliver got to choose where he wanted to go for dinner.  He ended up choosing McDonald’s.  Not exactly my choice, but I can cope.  That went all right for a while until the boys started getting overexcited, and then it just went downhill from there.

Regardless of the issues I came up against for Toli’s birthday (many of them self-inflicted) I think the boys had a blast, and I guess that’s what counts.

Excuse me while I go attempt to locate my sanity…

I Remember Everything

I was engaged to my ex for a little over two years.  Turns out that I stopped being interesting and important to her right around the time I asked her to marry me.


It was before Toliver came along, and Carter was about two years old.  She and I had some trouble in the past, and I had been busy trying to make a career for myself.  Things were a bit tough, but we managed to get along OK.

Or so I thought.

I didn't find out until after she moved out last year the true extent of things, but there was definitely some behind-the-scenes wheelin' and dealin' going on.  She had been playing the field for quite some time.  I had my suspicions, but Toliver came along at the end of 2003, and 2004 was spent figuring out how to pay for daycare and getting used to having him around.

Just as things got back to normal, I got private, earth-shattering news near the end of 2004, and it took me about 6 months to get through it.  Rather than get her support, she decided it was time for her to move out suddenly, even though she was definitely in the center of it all.

Looking back, I guess that 2002 was probably our best year, before we got engaged.  I enjoyed her company and still do miss her, but I've pretty much moved on with life now.  Sometimes looking through old pictures, even by accident, causes even the most resolute person to think back for a while.  But knowing that I'll be picking the boys up tonight from school helps to ease the pain.

A post from almost a year ago comes to mind.  Damn you, Johnny Cash....

Spooky G

Today the boys and I found ourselves down at Lambeau Field for their Spooktacular event.  The event itself was OK but nothing great.  Howard and his 2-year-old son Sam were also in attendance.

At one point we found some staff who were handing out stickers with the Packers logo on it.  Howard's son insisted on wearing the logo immediately, so Howard put it on his shirt.

The funny thing is that Sam was wearing a Halloween shirt that said 'Spooky U' on it, and when Howard put the sticker on Sam he covered the U portion almost completely.

Now his shirt said 'Spooky G'.  Of course, I immediately proceeded to make some comments about that being Sam's ghetto name, etc.

Come to think of it, he is about the right age to start banging...

70 Days

Procrastination is king.

It's been over two months now since I've moved in to my house, which came complete with pool table.  The number of pool tournaments held?  Zip.  Zilch.

When I was first checking this place out, some of the big selling points were that it was close to work and had a pool table.  Bingo!  Entirely possible to stop by and shoot pool for close to an hour before having to go back.  Plus I could theoretically have a party on a weekend or something and enjoy the company of friends.  And alcohol.  Musn't forget the liquor.

Of course, being single, visions of office cuties stopping down to play immediately was the next image that popped into my mind.  Double-edge sword though, because when it comes to playing pool I'm marginal at best.  No chance to woo the woman of my dreams by impressing her with my pool skills.  But, similar to the Detroit Tigers, I like to wait until the last possible second to swoop in and make my move.

Regardless, before I moved in I bought some cool movie memorabilia to put up in the basement.  Picked up a dartboard.  Held on to my old couch so we'd have somewhere to sit.  Got a line on a pool table light.  Plenty of preparation.  Until I moved in.

Don't get me wrong, pool has been played.  Alcoholic beverages have been consumed.  Women have even been up on the table (for the long shots.  dammit).  But alas, very little work has been completed in the basement.