Thinning Down the Gene Pool

Its fourth of July and the family is off to see the fireworks at Leawood. Being that we wanted to avoid the heavy traffic, we decide to park about a mi away at a office building complex. The parking was nice with grassy knolls between parking areas. We spread our blankets on one of these patches of grass. Good to go, fireworks started but some of the trees ahead were blocking our view. We decided to move up closer to the trees so we could see the show. Kids race forward as I gathered some of our things. When I started walking forward, I saw to my horror Joe and his cousin had moved forward alright, they had moved onto a 4 lane curb less road. They were laying out on the blankets with their heads on the pillows all comfy and not. I screamed “JOE, get out of the road” He turned back to look at me with a puzzled look on his face. He quickly looked to his right as his plight started sinking in. He quickly spun to his left only to see the SUV coming in at 40mph. At this point I might have as well screamed “the Rapters are coming.” In frantic terrorized manner, he scooped up blankets and chairs as he barreled rolled off the road. I asked him WTF were you doing? He could only say “we almost got hit.”
Sigh

Diving Team Tryouts

Leave it to the older sister Molly 9 to convince Gunnar 6 that he couldn't dive off the "High" diving board at the city pool. Next thing the sitter notices is a small crowd gathering around the other end of the pool next to the diving boards. To her horror there was little Gunnar at the end of the High board slowly putting his hands over his head. He doesn’t know how to dive but is just mimicking what he had seen others do. Sitter is screaming,"No Don't do it Gunnar!" But Gunner is too much in diving concentration to hear their pleas. Body falls forward in an outstretched, perfect belly flop formation. Life guard came running over to see him stunned, face down in the water, slowly moving his arms in attempt to swim. His only words were "that hurt". sigh

Punch ...8,9,10 he is out, or not?

I was in the kitchen and I am not clear what sparked this other than sounds like fun. My son Gunnar who is 6 at 70 pounds and an avid wrestler was laying on the couching reading a book. My 9 yr old daughter Molly weighing in at 54 pounds decided to do something dumb but fun. I look over and I see her standing on the top of the arm rest at the other end of the couch were Gunnar was quietly reading. As I was trying to figure WTF, I see her launch her self in a sprawled eagle style toward Gunnar, sort of like they do off the top ropes in WWF. I here a thud as she lands on top of him. With the back of the couch to me blocking my view, all I can see next is her arm and fist rising and falling over and over above the back of the couch. I think Gunnar was so engrossed in the book that the first 2 or 3 punches he would have ignored but no, she did a rapid 5 punches which was enough to trigger his "Hulk" mode. She springs off of him and is making a mad dash toward me. Gunnar comes up with fire in eyes while grabbing the Calamine spray can. Sssssss as closes in on her, he leaves a trail of lotion on the couch. Molly hugs my leg for dear life like that is going to stop his head lock he now has her in. I finally get him in a full nelson and get him quieted down. Later on I ask Molly, WTF, you know he can hurt you bad, "I know daddy but it was fun", sigh.

6yr olds Grand Slam

So I had been spending a lot of time at practices and games with my older boy and the 9yrold daughter with baseball and softball. The little boy had been bugging me to take him out to play catch with him at the ball fields. Off we went, after about 20 minutes of catch and dusk starting to settle in he said, "Daddy I want you to pitch overhand like the big boys do." Reluctant but thinking hey I'll just put a helmet on him and he should be okay we proceed on.. We setup for the first pitch. He looked so cute with his helmet on clutching his bat like old Barry Bond. I was standing about 30 feet away as I unleashed my famous fast ball. The swing was of perfect form followed by a ting. I was then thinking with such a perfect swing where did the ball go when I was met with a burning pain on the side of my head as I collapsed to the ground. As I got my eyes focusing more, I look up to see my boy standing over me with bat in hand saying, "See daddy, I told you I could hit the ball real far." As I recanted my near death experience with my family the older boy Joe, 16 said, "Ya when I pitch to him he hits them to the fence."
Sigh

Who needs a barber?

Most kids do this when they are four but not Joe. He waited until he was sixteen. Mom insisted to Joe that he needed a nice haircut and her being the mom the discussion was done. Joe set out to prove that he could make a statement. Apparently he spent two hours working on his head. When mom got home, all she could do was gasp and start whimpering. Joe had shaved his head. Well what he could reach. He looked a like a mangy dog or someone going through chemotherapy as clumps of hair still remained. It will be will documented as the family reunion is coming up in a couple of weeks.
Sigh

Don't hurt me daddy

It was after baseball practice and Joe had been bugging me to let him drive home. I had said no but before I knew it he was in the drivers seat shutting the door. Before I could get the door handle release he gets the door locked. With lightening fast reflexes I reach in the open window and unlock it but he was quick too and relocked it. I reached in again but my fingers seemed like they just couldn't reach it this time. I was thinking of the physics of this dilemma when I felt a terrible pain on my arm that was reached in. In horror I realized he had shut the power windows on my arm. Apparently my face of panic/rage scared him off as he was now cowering safely on the other side of the car. I screamed something about ripping off his nuts if he didn't release the window. Threats of violence worked and he release my now black and blue arm. Coach came running over and said, "don't hurt his pitching hand". As we drove home I asked him what the hell was he thinking of. All I got was I got scared daddy.
Sigh

Dad’s Dream at Baseball

It was Winter time and me and my boy had been practicing through Winter to get ready for Spring baseball tryouts for the HS. I had spent many of cold days out on the field pitching balls and working on hitting. Today’s practice was different, it was warm, birds were chirping and the big try out was the next day. Our father son practice was over when my son had an idea. He would pitch one to me so I could have the glory of cracking one with the old wooden bat. As he was getting set on the mound I was visioning my perfect swing sending the ball deep to center field. The pitch came, perfect, right down the middle. Using perfect technique I gave the ball a crack, it was going to be a home run. As I gazed out into center field looking for my ball, I hear a thud and in horror see my son stretched out on the ground grabbing his knee. As I helped him hobble to the car, I kept assuring him it was nothing but couldn’t help notice the bloody marks left by the stitches on the inside of the knee.

Luck be with him it didn’t affect his tryout and he made the team. I have sworn off taking batting practice from my kids.

Pukaroma I, II,III,& IV

March 27, 1999 Pukaroma Weekend, the Nightmare Begins.
Cast:
The names have not been changed to protect the guilty
Mom
Dad
Ashley 11
Joey 8
Molly 1.5

9:00pm Family was finishing up eating Daddy's world famous homemade pizza and yes
some say it's better than our beloved Tim McCune's.

10:00pm All is quite, all are asleep.
1:08am I was brought out of my sleep to hear coughing, gulping and a little crying from
hour 18mos old. I dashed into her room to gladly see she was just doing dry heaves. With not a moment to spare I snatched her out of bed with only 9 large steps to the bathroom. But as I
turned around I met mom who was concerned and wanted me to stop so she could assess the
situation, being a nurse and all. My screams of “get out of my way woman she's gonna blow” were ignored by my wife.
The 3 second delay was long enough for the projectile vomit stream to strike me in the side of the face and part of the bed. In a futile attempt to get to the bathroom I left a trail of regurgitated pepperoni pizza.

1:10am As wife gives Molly a bath and starts the one of many loads of laundry, I am going
down stairs to bring up Mr. Bissle to start cleaning up the trail of puke. I was about halfway
done dreaming of going back to bed when I heard out of Ashley's room one large cough then 2
seconds of rushing liquids roaring out of her mouth.

1:25am Her room was a site to see. She had turned and caught the edge of the bed where
it sprayed over the other half of the room. Now here would be a good argument to keep your
stuff picked up in ones room because now all her stuff including clothes had chucks and liquid
pizza clinging to them.

1:30am Mom hauls her to the bathroom where she remained curled in a fetal position next to the porcelain throne. Another load of laundry to be done

1:48am Mr. Bissle has taken care of Trail of Puke and we are now heading into Ashley's
room to deal with the regurgitated pizza spackled floor. I discovered that pepperoni takes a long
time to digest as I had to hand pick those pieces up.

2:08am I am emptying Mr. Bissle when I hear Joe yell I don't
feel well. I asked him if he felt like throwing up and he answered with a rush of vomit. Mom
cleaned him up and sent him to the other bathroom to curl up in the fetal position, this is going to
be a popular position tonight. Another load of laundry to do.

2:59am Done with Ashley's room and halfway done with Joe's carpet when I hear my wife
screaming she can't make it. As I was about ask what did she mean by I can't make it I hear
hacking and coughing with her head pointed at the one spot of carpet untouched by vomit. I
grabbed her and drug her to the toilet where buckets came streaming out.

4:20am 5 loads of laundry are done, beds made, kids and mom curled at the porcelain alter
for the night, my work is done, time to sleep now.

April 8, 2000 Pukaroma Weekend II

These are true stories and as much as I would like to say they are embellished they are not. In
fact I probably have blocked out some of the horrid details. You ask what is the purpose of these
writings? Answer, planned parent hood. If you have a young couple and they are thinking they
are ready for kids then give them the Pukaroma Weekend stories and see if they are ready, I'm
betting not since I'm 40 now and I get weak thinking about the future stories I have yet to write.

A 4 mos boy was added to the all star cast.
Gunnar
The names have not been changed to protect the guilty

Day 1
10:30pm: I had just changed a major dry heave diaper on Gunnar and lucky for me the
diaper had contained the soupage so other than the pungent stomach ripping smell all had gone
well. I was calling it a night. As I was walking back to my bed of comfort I passed Ashley's
room only to hear major dinosaur calls, not a good thing. I ran in hoping she was only in the dry
heave stages but no. There was a 1 foot diameter pool of regurgitated chunked soup on her
comforter. Apparently my turning on the light was a big mistake because when she saw what
was in her bed she freaked. There might as well have been a bed full of spiders as she flung the
comforter with the self contained vomit off the bed. Now chunks and puke came raining down in
the room like a Wizard's blizzard in Warcraft II. Puke had now claimed the walls, desk, blanket,
sheets, bed comforter, and 20sq feet of carpet. After hosing off the comforter on the back porch
(my dogs will love this reheated treat) 2 loads of laundry and 30 min with the Bissle Clean
Machine (can't live without one) I was making Ashley's bed.

11:38pm As a precaution I put towels down on the floor and a large overflow bowl for
future episodes. I was gleefully skipping back to my room after tucking her in when I seemed to
notice gut wrenching odor. It was Molly and she was working on a blowout from the bottom
end. Just as I was going to assess the leakage factor I heard back in the other room more praying to the porcelain alter. As I walked back to Ashley's room I wasn't too worried since she had that bowl but no it was It was all over her blankets. Apparently she was too tired to lean over and hit the bowl.

12:08am Bad news Molly's soupy diaper had penetrated through, blown up the back and
was now soaking into the bedding. I wrapped her up in a towel and gingerly carried her to
the bathtub hoping not to drip any soupage on the carpet. By now the combination of puke and
diarrhea stench was not helping with my digestion of the pizza I had eaten earlier.

1:10am Molly was now bathed and dressed, and in bed asleep. Time to hit the hay. As I
was heading to our bathroom I heard little Gunnar coughing or was that puking? Another reason
not to have extra bedding and cute stuff toys in the crib. Sure enough yellow puke all over
bedding and stuffed animals. As I picked him up he let me know he still loved me with a little
yellow projectile vomiting on me. But luck was with me since my large body had enough surface
area that the puke never reached the carpet. I wiped the puke off of me (his first puke ever),
changed his outfit, washed his bedding and took that well deserved shower.

2:15am Climbed into bed. Wife coming out of her oblivious comma sleep nudges me
saying she had had a rough day and could I keep the racket down, oh and could I get her some
juice. If only I could sleep so well.

2:20am Before my senses take in any more I passed out.

Day 2 Relatively speaking a better day

11:30pm The wife and I had just settled down into the Jacuzzi. As I was twisting off the
cap to my wine cooler I heard a startling pound on the bathroom door followed by "I threw up".
Sigh, wife said enjoy the moment here check on his undocumented claim later but it was hard to
relax knowing there was puke claiming more and more territories as I waited.

12:05am Hauled out my friend Mr. Bissle and headed for Joe's room. The good news was
he leaned over the bed and missed all of the bedding. The bad news was 2 of his dresser drawers
were pullout and thus were visited by Mr. Puke. But that was easy to cleanup as I pulled them
out into a heap for my lovely wife to have for the next morning. Mr. Bissle groaned from the
excessive use and split out a connecting hose spewing water all over the walls. No problem used
a towel on the floor to catch the drippage and grabbed the leaking hose with my hand and hurried on to get the job done.

1:12am Fell into bed, closed eyes but now I hear Gunnar crying, something about a tummy
ache. Brought Gunnar to wife, wife says he's ready to go back. Five min later Gunnar is ready
to visit mom again, and so on and so on.
2:30am Passed out.

6:15am Tap on shoulder its Molly she's hungry now.



February 27, 2001 Pukaroma Weekday III

It truly makes you wonder how parents make it raising kids. No choice of our own an average night our sleep is 5hrs with one to two awakenings. These are all true stories. Molly is 3.5yrs and Gunnar is 14mos.

11:45pm I get the giddy idea that we should go to bed early, so we do, skipping
extracurricular activities and going straight for sleep.

12:19am Gunnar does his stretching shrieking cry. So wife puts him in OUR bed with
bottle. Not a good move in hind sight.

12:30am Gunnar flings empty bottle on to dad's unprotected face, a ritual to let dad know
that he his done and will be settling down for the night in dads ever shrinking bed real estate.

12:45am Whimper noises coming from son, dad ignores figuring its another ploy to push
dad close to edge of bed.

12:50am Gunnar places hands on dads chest to better prop himself up in bed in an effort to
get his head in a more dominating position.

12:51am Gunnar now speaks but instead it's a rumbling cough followed by the ever so
missed projectile vomit. Sigh

1:15am Gunnar is washed down, dad is washed down, new set of bed sheets and
thankfulness that nothing landed on the carpet.

1:18am Gunnar back in bed, dad reclaims bed real estate.

1:30am Molly comes busting in the room running over to mom's side. A little unusual
aggressive behavior for 1:30am but mom brushes off suspicious behavior saying Molly just misses her mommy.

1:31am Molly cuddles next to mom and mumbles something. As mom is guessing what
word Molly is saying mom stumbles on the phrase "throw up". During the process of confirming
this, I am left with the dilemma of do I grab her and fling her into the bathroom 14' away with the gamble I don't make it and thus leaving the trail of puke on the carpet or do I let mom take the brunt of her dinosaur calls. Choice was easy let mom take the hit, since the decision making is in my head but God for bid if she knew I let nature takes its course on her.

1:55am Mom has taken her shower, molly washed up towels laid on bed, we ran out of
bed sheets by now, and everyone dozing off. As I am sinking into my cherished 4.5 hours of
sleep, mom sighs and mutters something about I am surprised the other 2 kids haven't been
singing their song.

6:30am As luck would have it sleep was on our side for now but the weekend is still not
far away.

November 21, 2001 Pukaroma Weekday IV

The day before I had gotten a request for the stories and I had thought to myself glad I am just
sending these stories and not writing them.

6:38 pm Settling in watching my son at basketball at practice, wife is at work and Ashley is
watching the 4 year old and 2 year old at home.

6:40pm Phone rings, Ashley is screaming and crying that Matthew is Puking everywhere and she was leaving in 10 min so I better get home. On the drive home I was trying to remember after cleaning out the basement where I had put Mr. Bissel after the last episode.

6:51pm Came in through the door only to be hit by a heavy acidic blast of odor. From my vast
experience in this type of situation I was able to contain my dry heave urges. The kids seemed
to be settled down and from what I could reconstruct this is what happened. Gunnar started
gurgling which brought Ashley over to check things out. Then he projected out a heavy
green/yellow thick fluid at her which of course landed on the carpet. Ashley turned and ran in terror cowering on the couch as if a mouse was about on the floor. Gunnar scared wanted comfort so he climbed on the couch seeking the comfort he needed from Ashley. Then another belch and mor yellow chunky substance splattered the couch. Ashley jumped off and went racing to her room with Gunnar dripping puke following in her steps.

6:55pm I picked up Gunnar placed him in the bath tub, stripped him down and gave him a
sponge bath, in hind site I should have waited another 5 min.

7:15pm I brought in Mr. Bissle from the garage. By the time I got back Gunnar was crying. I
picked him up expecting more of a mess in the crib but found none. Then I noticed my hands
were starting to feel damp. I started to unzip him but was only half way down before I realized
the dampness was a blow out which went all the way up the back to the neck. Never new mixing
a blowout with puke could be so hard on the lungs.

7:25pm Placed him back in the tub for a complete bath.

7:40pm He is dressed and happy so I better get back to the mess before it sits in.

7:45pm I screw the hose from Mr. Bissle on to the sink only to notice the washer is cracker, shouldn't make a difference.

7:50pm I turn on water for a pre test. Cracked wash does make a difference. Fortunately the
window by the sink took most of the water and rest on the floor, was going to mop later that
night anyway. Dug around a found a non cracked washer now I am good to go.

7:55pm Gunnar is crying again. Apparently he went into his sister room and from what I can
figure started twirling around as he blew because it is everywhere, beds clothes, carped and toys.

8:05pm He is redressed and is in his crib just incase he has more ideas.

8:10pm Mr. Bissle fires up with that every so familiar roar. Starting with the first area hit with puke, I squeeze the trigger for the blast of hot water. Water starts squirting out from the handle dousing me in a bath of water. I cover the leak the best i can I continue on. Ashley being the observant teenager she is points out that I am getting water spots on the carpet.

8:15pm Too much leakage so I decide that I can simple glue the leak with so often used Super
Glue. Gunner pukes again but I just lift him up and change the towel under neath him. Gunnar
doses back off or in my case recharges the digestive system.

8:20pm I carefully align tip of glue bottle of leak on plastic handle and squeeze. No glue so I
squeeze a little harder and a little harder. Then crack the bottle cracks open and glue goes all
over my hands. I have about these stories but they are usually in dumb movies or Red Neck
jokes. Carefully I wash off hands with soap and water, fortunately no story here.

8:40pm Return from store with new bottle of glue and make the necessary repairs. Gunnar pukes and I change his towel again.

9:00pm Glue is drive and we are back in business. Fire up Mr Bissle only to realize that by
fixing that pressure release point that another one was formed around a rubber connector. No
fixing this so drenched I work my way from one puke zone to puke zones. Oh, and Gunnar pukes and I change his towel again.

10:00pm Everything is cleaned, I take a shower, kids in bed, all towels and bed sheets are now in a heap in front of the washing machine, time to relax.

10:01pm Mom comes in after work only to ask what have I been doing the house is a wreck.

November 22

Ashley, Joe, Molly, Mother come down with all flue symptoms. Dad goes to work on
Thanksgiving day only to be inundated with phone calls to come home and take care of them.
Calls are ignored and Dad escapes the flu epidemic. On the up note my 4year old learned to use
the stool during the illness.

November 23 Bought a Hoover Upright Turbo Steamamatic 7000. It sits waiting for the next
episode of Pukaroma Weekend Series.

No SRS Please, Joes Basketball Game

December 9 2001

Not a puke story but another interesting tale from the lives of the Bollmans. Dad is at son's Basketball game.

5:00pm Basketball games was over and it was time to go home.

5:10pm Got home and started getting ready for Church activities that were starting at 6:00pm

5:45pm Ready to go, I got the kids in the car and wife says lets go. I did a quick head count and noticed Joe not here. I asked my wife were Joe was and got a blank stare. Ashley says he is not in the house and from the looks from the outside of the house his room lights are out. We drive and call to all the known places that he might be but no Joe.

6:00pm We are late to church so off we go. I am thinkin Joe is so grounded when we find him. I tell my wife I will drop her off and then come back and look for him. If I don't find him by 7:00pm then we are calling the cops.

6:08pm We are about to the church when my wife looks over to me and asks, "Did you bring Joe home from the basketball game?". Dad is so very grounded.

Daddy delivers fast food

Wife just recovered from one of those every 30 year women surgeries. Brought her home and everything would have been great accept my wife and I both got stomach flu and too weak to make it to the bathroom. Once past the projectile vomiting and accusation that I was the one that got her sick and about killed her after her surgery she was ready for some fast food.

6:00pm send me out to Wendys
6:10pm in drive through
6:11pm wife calls to ask where am I and to make sure I have sweet and sour sauce
6:15pm Order food with sweet & sour
6:16pm drive off with food
6:17pm realizes the sweet & sour is not in the bag
6:22pm back at the window and ask for 6 packs, he drops in 1, I say 6 plz, so hedrops 2 more in, I stare at him holding my hand of 6 fingers and he drops 2 more in. Close enough, damn kids cant count anymore
6:23 wife calls to say forget getting her pizza and just bring the food back for the little ones as they are now starving
6:30 Get home and dispense the food.
6:35 Been listening for 5 min from my wife on how I took to long and now she has nothing to eat. Got her sick and now I am trying to starve her to death.
6:45 Stomach flu victim number 4 my 18yr daughter comes in and says she is hungry. I said what is the point if you will spew 5min after you eat. Wife gives me the look so off I am again.
7:00 After talking up the Super Supreme Crunch I get my wife to agree to let me get that for her
7:04 Wife calls and asks if I am getting along with my daughter
7:20 Supremes in hand we head over to Burger King for the 18 year old
7:30 In line
7:31 Wife calls to ask when are we coming home, sigh
7:40 Order Chicken tenders
7:42 Bill is $2.84 so I give them $3.00 + .10 expecting a quarter + penny back. I look up trying to figure out why she isn’t giving my change back and there is 3 of them trying to figure out the math, I heard guesses from .15 to 50 cents. They gave up and gave me a quarter, probably figured they earned the penny. I guess it is a lost art of counting change back and if there is no computer who would be expected to do arithmetic manually.
7:47 Daughter exclaims these aren’t chicken Tenders, sigh
7:48 Wife calls wanting her food
7:52 back at the counter, Sorry our mistake, the tenders are only 2.18. I said make sure you figure in the tax on the refunded amount, got a funny look, like there is no way in hell we are attempting a math problem as complicated as (Total1 - Total2)*Tax
8:00 back on the Road
8:01 wife calls again, where is my damn food.
8:10 get home and dispense the food.
8:11 I spend time getting the 8yr old ready for bed
8:20 Wife comes out and all I see is the look of “I will cut body parts off of you as you sleep”. What I say. She claims I didn’t buy enough food as the kids ate her food too and she gets nothing. About that time I her the all so familiar hurls from the 18yrs daughter who ate my wife’s food just long enough to get to the bathroom. Sure glad she used my wife’s tooth brush over mine. So after about 2.5 hours of trying to get food to please I still have a wife angry enough at me that I don’t feel safe sleeping with. I will have to double dose her with perceset tonight.
Sigh

New towels are no longer

As most of our towels had the appearance like the dog had played with them, some cases that was true, I decided to replace them. Dang never knew that even with 50% off towels were $9.00. Didn't scare my older daughter a bit who has experience in racking up $300 bills with the wife's credit card. She heads off to the counter for a grand total of $167.00 for towels. Some how my daughter who is of college age decides they should be washed on the sanitary cycle which is 2 hrs in 160 degrees water. Setting on the washer might have as well been labeled "Shrinking Guaranteed". Towels at the ends have shrunk along with 4 inches off the length and with my girth I had paid and need that length. Sigh

Little Boy Gets Hurt

So the now 6yr old had started up wrestling, first year. We had been in the program for 2 mos placing 1st and 2nd at his tournaments. At this point the club required you to pay in the $150 for the season. Being a rising star and his love for it I said sure. As I was signing him up I joking said now he better not get hurt after writing this check. Fifteen minutes later they were loading him up in the ambulance for emergency surgery. Broke his arm in 3 growth plates. As they were shooting him up with morphine he had tears coming down as he asked if they could give him more. Surgery went well with 3 pins and 2 weeks later surgeon was pleased with the results. As far as his growth plates, we will have to wait more 3 mos. Can't keep wondering if I had not said that if things would have been different. Sigh

No hitting Please

Being the courteous driver that I am, I like to listen to suggestions on driving from my family passengers but sometime the women in my car can over do it. So I have my whole family, all 5 of them coming back from church in the van. I start to slow down for a turn and all of a sudden its pandemonium in the van. Screaming, and shouts of stop. I am trying to process such helpful suggestions when the beatings start, arms and fists start raining down on me. My mind is racing wildly that I am dragging someone from the car and I need to stop. As I stop in the middle of the road my wife lands a punch on the side of the head at that point I think I hear “fingers caught in the window.” True I had just rolled up the windows up a few minutes earlier. I am now frantically trying to hit all the windows buttons in the down position while fighting off the mob which now the 18 yr old daughter has joined in with. Apparently I had rolled the window up on the 5yrs fingers. Dang a simple, “fingers caught in window” would have sufficed.
Sigh.

X-mas lights would have been nice

So it is that time of the year to put up the Christmas tree. My wife goes out and brings home a tree that has a fat 9" truck with knots but hey 45 min of sawing and I get the tree up and ready for decorating. The wife pulls out the 7 strands of knotted lights. It is tradition for wife and husband to spend the next hour untangling lights. This year luck was with us as all 6 strands worked. The wife spent the next 1-hour layering on the lights followed by a layer of decorations. Done the wife calls in all 4 kids for the viewing of the lights. With everyone gathered around the tree such as in Clark Griswald Christmas Vacation we were gitty with anticipation for the flipping on the switch to the X-mas lights. Viola the lights came on, all 7 strands. We broke into song as we held hands together. My children became so involved that they jumped high in the air but when they landed with a thud all the lights went out. Sadness fell on the kids' faces and furry filled my wife's face. My wife went nuts on the tree and ripped the lights off saying screw this. I worked 2 fuckin hours on this for this. Another hour later I noticed the fuse was blown on the first strand of the lights plus the fact all 6 lights were on one outlet. So we redid the tree going from one 6 strands to 2 strands of 3 lights then plugging them into their own outlet, now everything was working, finally. The next morning I notice instead of 2 strands plugged into an outlet of their own they were plugged into each other into one outlet like the night the fuse blew. Son’s response I thought you were wasting an outlet plug so I plugged them all together. Sigh.

5yr old gets his first Motorcycle

Well I was running out of material for the blog so the Uncle obligated and bought my 5yr old a 50cc motorcycle. I wasn't there but the incident was reported as follows. The boy was out in the Uncle's backyard riding around getting the hang of things for the past hour. Uncle looked away for 5 sec giving my boy the chance he was looking for, the jump. Adjoining the yards there is a 5 foot rock wall cliff. With throttle wide open and a determined look on his face he raced toward the jump. All the Aunt saw from the window was her husband streaking across the backyard with my 8yr daughter screaming the boys name. Being a doctor and all she felt compelled to go assess the situation. It was like an Evil Knievel stunt gone bad. Apparently he got sideways on the approach and slid down the rock face gouging the helmet on the way down but luckily his head stopped his fall. Once again he cheats the ER and avoids a visit. A little shaken but he was ready again. Uncle voted next time it was going to be in a big pasture with no cliffs. All I can say to my sister now if I am ever criticized on my child care is “well at least I didn’t let them drive off a cliff.”

Do it yourself home kit

Warning, this post is a graphical and is not for faint of heart but the story must be told to warn others.

So there I was sitting down on the throne and enjoying 5min of rare peace while I read the paper. After about 30 sec. of enjoyment I started to notice a tinkling sensation from the boys down below. Another 30 sec went by and it became more of a burning sensation, like 5 hundred fire ants biting. This quickly went from ants to "I am on fire". As I rocketed off the seat I noticed the boys were covered in a blue foam, like the stuff you use to clean the toilet. I raced to the sink and hoisted them in and frantically try spraying them off. It took 10 min of continuous running water to finally kill off the pain. Somewhere during the screams and the spraying my wife yells through the door "Don't use the toilet, I am cleaning it" And here I spent all that money on my procedure at the doctors office a couple of years ago when I could have so easily used the home kit method for chemical castration.
Sigh

Hey Dad, Something's wrong with my bathroom

I had finished off the brand new bathroom early that year for my high maintenance 17yr old daughter. Tonight as I started to think about starting to relax she says, "hey dad, I think there is something wrong with my bathroom, you need to come look at it." Sigh alright, as I walk in to my master piece of carpentry work I gazed upon a scene of carnage. It looks like a violent murder took place minus the blood. Most light bulbs were burnt out, brand new wall heater burnt up, towel racks ripped from the wall with the pieces strewn over bathroom floor, shower hand snapped off, holes and gouges decorated the walls. Good thing I spent so much time on mudding and painting them too. I asked her WTF happened here. Got the typical response of "I don't know Dad, it just broke"
Sigh

Oh by the way .....

We were on a car trip to KC to meet up with some relatives for dinner and we were running behind so every minute counted. Without the DVD system hooked up in the car the kids were behaving as expected, hitting, throwing objects and just plain old high pitched screams. But I was not down because I had a nice restaurant waiting for me with my name on it. Just me and the gourmet buffet in a relaxing environment. We hit Lawrence planning on cutting over to highway 10. As I was heading down the main drag I was required to make a few aggressive lane changes to make the lights. About halfway through the precision driving moves, lights start flashing behind me. Surely they are for someone else, no, they are following me. Wife starts pounding my shoulder screaming its my fault for my aggressive male driving. After I pull over, sitting there my wife stops the beating and calmly says, "oh by the way, one of the headlights are out." Sigh, sure enough the officer walks up and informs me I have a headlight out and he will need license, registration, & proof of insurance and walks back to his car. As I start looking in our pouch that so anally keep all our insurance and registration info I start to panic since all I see is 2004 and some 2005 information. My wife informs me that our 17yr old daughter a month earlier was looking for her car registration and most likely she had pulled all that information out of my car. Cop came back asked for the information only to hear me say , "I think my daughter pulled it out of my car" Hoping to hear a that’s okay I get a "that is not good, please wait here" Kids upon hearing that cheerful news start asking in excited voices, "is daddy going to jail?, is daddy going to jail?" After another 28 min he comes back and gives me a fix it on the light and lets me off with a warning on the lack of insurance and registration. Personally I think he had pitty on me.

We amazingly get to the restaurant before the rest of my family gets there and I decide this would be a good time to go fix the headlight and get the cops to sign off on it on our way back to Mahattan. I ask the receptionist at the restaurant where a Walmart was. She said just go down Metcalf and hang a right on Shawnee Mission and there it will be on your right. Sweet and off I go. Little did I know, women have no time conception when it comes to driving to their shopping destinations. Going down Metcalf meant drive 12 miles for 20 minutes and the left on mission meant drive another 13 miles for 22 minutes. I make it to the automotive counter just as they officially closed 2 minutes earlier. I pleaded my whole story to the cashier and I don't know if it was pitty on me or she was afraid I was going to repeat my whole sad story again starting with the first punch that was thrown back on our driveway. Headlight fixed I rush back to the restaurant and hour and 20min later only to find the family finishing up on dessert and the restaurant closes in 10 min so I was informed I would need to eat fast.
Sigh

Kids and Their Timing

So I had done all the rights things for the little lady on my Sunday honey do list since I was promised to be rewarded that night. Time came, it was about 11:45pm when we started getting funky when bam, our door is flunk open and in marches my 17 yr daughter who proceeds to march around the bed to my wife’s side and jump in. She quickly pulled the covers up over head oblivious to me scrambling to put clothes on. Wife starts hit me saying why didn't you lock the door and I am saying why do we have a 17yr daughter in our bed. Once I get enough clothes on I go around to were my daughter is to ask "WTF are you doing here?" She mumbles something about throwing up and this is the only place she can sleep. That pretty much capped the evening with a daughter in your bed that could throw up.
Sigh

Hey Dad look at my Killings

My 15yr old who is a wanta be hunter was so proud when he called me upstairs to show me his killing collection. Look dad he exclaims I killed them all. Yep you sure did. All 59 moths dotted along a section of wall that I had recently repainted. Kids are job security, job security.Sigh