Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Forrest Gump Lives Here

Today I took the boys to play their first game. Baseball is a confusing sport especially when you are six. Both boys are able to whack the ball off of the T. Unfortunately, Kullen does not realize you must stay on first base once you get there or you are tagged out.

After the first quarter of the first inning Karson is begging me to quit. "I hate baseball," he says. I tell him he must discuss it with his sports loving Dad. I think he would like to be involved in a more sedate sport...something like marathon television watching and potato chip dipping.

So Karson is at bat for the second time. WHACK the ball flies and he makes it to first base. The next kid comes up...WHACK. THe first base coach yells, "Run, Karson, Run." Karson leaves the base, charging hard...into the outfield to help retrieve the ball his teammate just hit. He is tagged out by the opposing team and doesn't understand this turn of event because afterall he was only helping. If only Karson's rules were the rules by which we lived our lives. Things would be much simpler, everyone would be much happier and Peace On Earth would not just be a slogan.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

And We Question Where High Blood Pressure Comes From

I had to call Kylee on the telephone today to talk to her. Of course she had to bring up the fact that she would not be living in the dorms at college. The conversation went kind of like this.

She: "Okay I didn't want to tell you this way but I can't live in the
dorms because R is coming to the United States. We plan to get married after I graduate from high school"

Me...thinking to myself....THE HELL YOU ARE
Me...thinking to myself (in a very sterotypical fashion I might add)...Thank goodness he is from South America and a machismo culture where he will most likely forget about her the minute she leaves.
Me...thinking to myself...THE HELL YOU ARE

Me to her: "Well honey that is going to be difficult. I doubt the
United States will let him in."

She: " I have been investigating it. We will be married. He can come on a fiance visa."

Me...thinking...thank GOD the US is cracking down on immigration at least in this case. I just might have to become a Republican.

Me to Her: I doubt that the US will let R in because 1. You are not
educated and cannot support him 2. He is not educated and cannot
support himself 3. He is in a band (okaY i did not say it but I did
think it) 4. He doesn't have lots of money to come here with.
Therefore due to #1, 2, and 4 it is doubtful he can come here."

Me...thinking ....thank goodness for the Patriot Act. Here is one case where it just might come in handy.

She: "I am in a bad mood and don't want to talk anymore."

Me...thinking...don't even ask us to sponsor R. EVER. (which she does a day later)

Me...thinking...why do we have girls anyway?

Me...thinking...I was ripped off during the in vitro process when I
told the doctor that he was to eliminate teenage attitude and the
problems associated with it.

Me...thinking again in sterotypical fashion for which I beg forgiveness...thank goodness he lives in a machismo country and will probably forget her within 10 minutes of her getting on the
plane.

Me...thinking...Now I know why some animals eat their young. It is so much easier than raising them!