If there is one thing in life I have learned, it’s that yelling at your server will rarely yield positive results.
I base this on the fact that (a) I have been a waiter before and (b) I’m a fairly decent human.
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Captain Hook
I’m not sure what hurt my son more: The fact that his sister caught a fish before him, or the hook in his hand.
Oh, wait. Yes, I do. It was the hook. Definitely the hook.
It happened while surf fishing recently. Both of the kids had their fishing poles rigged up and baited with some delicious mullet. I had a blanket spread out on the beach and was prepared to enjoy the sunset and read a book because, let’s face it, the only time we’ve ever come close to catching our limit would be if the limit was zero.
Last week, Pittsburgh Steelers linebacker James Harrison drew headlines when he posted on his Facebook page that he would have his kids return the “participation trophies” they received. Among his choice words, he said, “While I am very proud of my boys for everything they do and will encourage them till the day I die, these trophies will be given back until they EARN a real trophy.”
If the Foster Grant sunglass company was looking to update their 1970s ad campaign, they could have easily filmed me the other day, along with the modified tagline, “Who’s that behind those Foster Grants? And why is he crying?”
Last week, I told you my daughter was about to turn 15 and was preparing to take the test to get her learner’s permit.
This week, I write to inform you that the world has one more driver in it, and she’s not as horrible at it as you might think.
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Happy birthday, Allie-Bear
Happy 15th birthday to my Allie-Bear.
I haven’t publicly called my daughter Allie-Bear in a long time, mainly because she threatened never to speak to me again if I did, sometime around a fourth-grade field trip I was chaperoning.
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A gift to the sea
“When the Maiden of the Sea is granted alms, she shall never return them.”
— Ancient mariner saying I just made up
OK, so it’s not an ancient mariner saying. But it should have been, or, at least should be from this point on because I think it sounds a little better than saying, “I went crabbing with my kids and our chair was blown into the water and I didn’t get it back, despite spending 20 or so minutes walking on an oyster bed.”
My wife and I had an evening event to attend recently. Our daughter was going out with friends, leaving our son at home alone.
He’s 12, so he’s plenty capable of being at home alone till 8ish. We set down the ground rules: Stay at home. Don’t answer the door. Call the neighbors if you need them. And please don’t text us 435 times asking “When are you coming home?”
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Line starts where?
It was one of those rare moments when all three legs of the modern shopping experience stool played nicely together – clerk, customer and clueless customer who maybe doesn’t quite have the grasp of lines.
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The mystery BZZZZZ
It is an unsettling feeling to come home and find there is an intruder in your home. Especially if it buzzes constantly and loudly.
I first encountered this intruder when I got home from work the other day. My family wasn’t home at the time, so the lone occupants of the house should have been two lazy dogs, asleep in their beds.