I Have a Five Year Old Teenager

Seriously, I do.

Today was a great day. We went to the aquarium in Grapevine and had a lot of fun. Of course, a the day marched on, so too did the fatigue of my napless little ones. I wasn't too worried about it, but I figured it might make bedtime dramatic. As usual, I was correct.

It was kind of my fault though. I walked into the oldest one's bedroom and was almost blinded by light. See, Princess has gradually accumulated an overly abundant collection of lights in her room over the last year or so. She squirrels stuff away and it's gotten crazy. Tonight I had to make a change. She had a string of Christmas lights (so much for storing the Christmas decorations in her closet) blinking away in a pile on her floor and I decided it was time for them to go. I took them out, leaving her with only a night lite, the hall light and an eight foot long string of LED butterflies.

Oh, the drama! The tears fell until she started that hicupping,  stuttering whimper,  which I'm pretty sure is her secret weapon of last resort. Her near unbeatable method for getting me to back down.

Or so she thinks.

I stood my ground and put her to bed.

And then I heard it, as I walked down the stairs.

"Why (sob) does life (hiccup) have to be so hard? Waaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!"

What the...?

When did five become the new 15?

Things I Never Expected To Say #2

Son, please don't lick dust off the vacuum cleaner!

Harsh Honesty

Nothing can deflate one's ego like the honesty of a child.

I'm a big boy - which is how we Texans say we're fat - but I've been losing weight and toning things up for awhile now. So it caught me by surprise when I was putting Princess back to bed and as I leaned over to tuck her in she said, "Daddy, I thought only girls had boobies, not boys!"

So much for toning up. Hmm, maybe a girdle?

Have ya ever...

Have Ya ever scared the daylights out of yourself? I mean scared yourself so well that you just about wet yourself?

Today, I did.

Recently, I had a new security system installed. And being a man, I had to get all the cool doohickies that came with it. My favorite - until today - is the app that lets me control the house automation and security from my phone. Today, the family was out and I was gathering up the tools for my to do list. I sat down at the table to check my list again, then headed for the back door. Now mind you, I had been going inane out for a bit, and the alarm wasn't set. It was just me and the Furball, and he can't reach the control panel. And no matter how much he begs, I'm not getting him a phone, so he can't control the system.

Well, I opened that back door and all help broke loose. The siren (which I'm pretty sure is louder than advertised) started wailing, he dog started running in circles and howling and a loud, disembodied voice directly behind me suddenly said, "Hello, is everything okay?"

I dang near had a heart attack.

Who knew you could butt dial your alarm?

Warm Fuzzies

When parents get sick, there's no one to kiss it and make it all better. I've had laryngitis for five days now, and it's driving me nuts. But when Little Man climbed up on the couch beside me, took my finger in his tiny hand and laid his head against me to keep me company - well, warm fuzzies are pretty great medicine.

Boo Boo - ger

Being a man, I thought I was prepared for all the little surprises my son might come up with. After all, I was a little boy at one point myself.

Apparently, I was a different kind of little boy than my son. Perhaps my OCD extends a bit farther back in time than I previously thought.

Little Man has a knack for grossing me out like nothing I ever imagined.

I was sitting at my computer when my fearless boy ran up screaming and crying. He was pitching such a fit I immediately started looking for severed ears or gushing wounds. I figured he had to be hurt. I couldn't see anything, and I was trying to calm him down when he suddenly shoved his hand at my face.

On his right index finger was the biggest booger I have ever seen!

And he couldn't get it off.

And it freaked him out even more than it did me!

I didn't know OCD was genetic.

True Love

There comes a time in every Daddy's life when he hears those words he doesn't want to hear: "Daddy, I have a boyfriend!"

I really didn't expect it to be when she was five. I was at the counter making tortillas when I heard it today. I caught myself before I hit the ground, but the world swayed mightily. My little Princess is growing so very fast. Just yesterday, it seems, she was sleeping on my chest with her Pink. Today, she's planning to marry Cody. Lord have mercy.

And as if my constitution wasn't tested thoroughly enough by the whole boyfriend thing...

So, I know someday she will ask me true love. "How do I know it's true love, Daddy?" Now I have an answer.

See, Sweetheart decided to help me out by taking out the compost pail. She had never worked my compost tumbler before. She closed the lid, thought it was locked and turned it. Then she screamed. I would have taken a picture, but that bin isn't ready to dump out, see. I was a little too busy trying not to hurl.

So, how does that answer the question? Well, when you see that and immediately grab a shovel instead of making your Sweetheart clean up the mess, then you know you have TRUE LOVE.

????

Ah, the wonders of life as a parent!

Amazing.

Mysterious.

Unknowable.

Filled with unanswerable questions.

Questions like - Why in the world is sparkling rainbow colored glitter cooked onto my tortilla griddle? And how did it get there when I store that thing on a shelf six feet off the floor?

Disillusionment

The Princess is hiding.

Shattered by disillusionment.

I didn't mean to do it. Honestly!

But when I told her that we didn't actually have her baby brother as a toy for her, it just broke her heart.

--  Did you know that if you say something funny, not realizing it's funny until after your wife chokes, but you're unable to laugh because it will destroy the effectiveness of your disciplinary statement, it can make you cry.  --

Busted

Well, I knew it had to happen eventually. The writing was on the wall for a few years now. Things were just changing too fast, and it really was just a matter of time before someone caught me.

My daddy would be so ashamed.

I guess it all started after a brush with cancer a few years ago, when I started taking a hard look at what my family ate. Sweetheart and I decided that if she, as a biochemist, couldn't pronounce the ingredients list of a prospective food, we weren't going to eat it. We started cooking with primary ingredients from scratch. Then I started baking. Well, that all led to an eye opening price check. When I started grinding wheat (yes, the grinder is electric) and baking loaves of bread for 25 cents a loaf, I discovered an inner frugaholic that I had never known existed. I started finding ways to incorporate all kinds of cost saving, quality enhancing items into our lives. I found castile soap and essential oils and started cleaning better and oh so much cheaper. Then I got a vacuum packer. I love my vacuum packer. Sweetheart had to make me promise to never vac-pac the kids or the dog, but after that she just let me go. Now she finds the sales and I process it for storage. My goal is a herd of longhorns. I think I can do 'em. I've got me a 60 gallon tote full of assorted sizes of sealer rolls and pouches and a spare foodsaver to boot. I can seal 'em and  freeze 'em or batch cook 'em as soon as she rolls 'em through the doorway.

Aaahhhaa! I do love me a good meat sale.

This last one though bit me in the butt and exposed my secret double life.

It all happened 'cuz my revered Most Redneck Brother came over to pressure wash my fence for restaining. Sweetheart had caught a good sale and as I was processing chicken and chops to be grilled in a weekly batch, I saw the beef ribs. Now I don't like eating ribs off the bone. I like a little less of a mess. Especially with two kids to clean up. So I like the ribs to melt off the bone - which is why I bake 'em.

There I said it! It's out now and the world can shake their heads in disgust if they want. Most Redneck was so shocked I though he was going to drop his cold beer. He told me that I was doing wrong. And their could be no excuse. He said he could never suffer to touch ribs from an oven.

That was probably the wrong time to wonder aloud if Sweetheart was finding the pair of crocs I was interested on trying out after years of her trying to tell me it would be fine of I wore plastic shows with no socks.

Most Redneck set down his beer, picked it right back up and said,"I'm formally revoking your redneck license, bubba. You done got too danged crunchy.

Hello, my name is TrekkerDad, and I am a crunchy, recycling, half hippy half redneck.

Wonder if I'm too old to learn how to play hacky sack?