Sherida called me today to let me know that she felt guilty. I answered the typical, "Ohhhh-kay".
To give a quick background, poor Haley had a bad Strep infection a couple weeks ago. The side effect has been that it hurts her to have a bowel movement. And since not going at all can prevent pain, it was an honest choice by young Haley Shea. The problem is that after 4-5 days of not going she gets real cranky, screams and cries, and doesn't have the same zest for life. If I didn't go for 5 days, I'd be pissed. This has been happening for about 2 weeks now and we need to break the spell.
We all had lunch together today, and it was nice. Haley was not feeling well and we knew why. So I get this message from Sherida this afternoon saying that she feels guilty for what she's done to Haley…just a little bit. Sherida called Haley over this afternoon and said, "you've been a good girl today so I want to give you some chocolate."
"Yey! Thanks Mommy!!!! I get some chocolate, I get some chocolate", she chants like she's taunting Sammy or something. Sam's probably looking at her like, dude, make sure that's chocolate…look at mom's face right now.
It wasn't chocolate at all…it was Ex-Lax as you might imagine…all the while Haley thinks she's getting a real treat…and in a roundabout way I guess she is.
About 15 minutes later, she gets up from playing with her dolls and runs upstairs grabbing fanny and making hectic groan sounds. Sherida listens as Haley quietly departs with what seems like 10 pounds of her own body weight.
"MOM!!! I made a HUGE poop!"
"That's great honey!" I wonder how that happened? Sherida goes up there to help her and she literally dropped a megaton bomb. I don't know how she was even getting around.
Haley's stoked and says, "Oh man I feel so much better……but it sure is hot in here."
Sherida then lets me know that she feels guilty for tricking a girl into taking ex lax, but I think that's a good mom story...there's a reason ex lax tastes like chocolate and not like cod liver oil.
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
At the Boardwalk
Venturing to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, for me, is a march into the realm of complete unease...especially on 75 cent night in the middle of the Summer. 75 cent night is when all the winners come out, and its packed. The fetid, adhesive "walk" is coated in gum, cigarettes, and the footsteps of the downtrodden. Vast crowds of fat people with strollers full of children that are too big to ride in strollers but also too big to walk. There's a pleasant smell of deep fried everything and its amazing when you see a thin person in line for the funnel cake. Every line is a huge wait, and for what? A roller coaster that doesn't even go upside down? What the hell? Or a log ride that lasts 10 minutes but you only have 5 seconds of excitement? I don't get it anymore.
Every time a go as an adult, I feel that another piece of my childhood is being torn away, another memory tainted. The Boardwalk used to have this majestic feel, a place where I'd go with my cousins and we'd ride the Rocko Planes, or the log ride and have a killer time. Now I go and its just a mockery of my own memories. Sad.
I took Haley and Sam there last week. As I learned later, waiting in line with Haley for the Merry-Go-Round, that it was, in fact, the dreaded 75 cent night. If I'd known, I would've endured Haley's imminent 28 minute meltdown by putting the kibosh on the trip right then and there. The moment we reach the parking lot ($10, thanks have a great day) the palms of my hands begin to sweat, my breath gets shorter, and I begin to talk in stunted, nervous bursts...doing the best to hide my disdain for the sake of my daughter's fun. Sam's in the stroller, Haley refuses to wear a sweatshirt, and we're off to the boardwalk...YEY!!! We pass a group leaving the boardwalk that look happy enough - well to do. Then I faintly catch the eye of the dad, and I could feel through his eyes his utter relief that they were leaving, and there were no calamities to show for it.
22 years ago, my own father wasn't so lucky. Young Danny Robertson blew out his diaper with what my dad calls an all-time poop EXPLOSION (bathrooms of the world #21) and was forced to change him in the men's bathroom, at the boardwalk, on a very busy night. Right as my dad's releasing the demons, a group of biker gang dudes walk in...mind you that the changing table is the first thing you walk past when you enter. So these biker guys are cussing and carrying on about my brother's cursed diaper - "Jesus Christ - IT SMELLS LIKE SHIT IN HEAR!! What the fuck you feedin that kid." And my dad, an engineer with glasses and a 80's pornstache, just gutted it out on clutch performance under intense pressure. Pretty much your worst diaper changing nightmare ever. Surprisingly my dad was OK, and he would tell you that the boardwalk is not on his 'favorite santa cruz locations' list.
As we approach the entrance, the DR Dipe Explosion story was well in the forefront of my mind and, needless to say, it wasn't calming my nerves.
That should say something right there that I was nervous entering a place of glee, fun, and happiness.
I feel as though I'm constantly dodging groups of people as I weave a tight line with Sam in the stroller and Haley on my arm. (Why is it that whichever direction I walk at the boardwalk, I feel as though I'm walking against the flow of the crowd? I frickin hate that!) I'm not lying about how uncomfortable I feel at this point, and my face reflects this as Haley asks me, "Dad, are you happy right now?" I gaze down to her, breaking out of my own downward spiral of thoughts and smile. "Yeah honey, I'm good, I just want to get to the Merry-go-Round." That GOD DAMN MERRY GO ROUND!! I just need to GET TO IT. Like I said, it was bad...I'm on this crazy mission to get to the Merry go Round, not step in gum, not run Sam into a drunk idiot, and make sure Haley doesn't get abducted.
Fun.
So we finally get to the line for the Merry-Go-Round and I realize that I won't be able to go on with her because I don't have a ticket and I also have Sam. My attitude and general mood sink further as I think of ways to pull this off successfully. Haley has already made friends with another little girl, slightly older than her. Her mom, a polite, squat woman offers to take her on the ride, and I oblige. Haley gets her joyous ride, and Sam and I wave to her as I put on my best happy face I could find. I really was proud and happy to watch her have so much fun though...that's why I go, as cynical as this story is, its for her and Sam and that makes me feel good.
After the Merry-Go-Round, of course the next ride she wants to go to is literally as far away as you could be in the Boardwalk. Yey. So we fly like a butterfly through the crowd passing people with "Fuck you" T-shirts, and Tesla tank tops. Large Latino families who look like they might do much of their family "shopping" at the Boardwalk, and several poorly tattooed middle agers who look like they'll smoke a cigarette before and after anything they do. Mullets? Really? I didn't know they still existed.
We miraculously make it to the boat ride, and Haley has a blast while Sam yells inaudible calls to her - probably making fun of the kid in the back seat of her boat crying the entire time. I translated for Sam - "What a little whiny bitch of a boy! He's gotta be 7 years old? WTF?" Meanwhile the kid's poor parents sit on the side of the fence, watching helplessly, as their snot-nosed son goes round and round. At one point the dad kept making a shrugging gesture to his son as if to say, look, your wasting 75 cents right now.
I look at my watch, Jesus, we've been hear 2 hours. And I forgot to mention that the whole time, and reason for being there, was to meet my cousins, who have children of their own. Luckily we didn't meet up with them before they went on the cave train, which is equally horrifying for me and for Haley...but that's another story.
So we finally catch up with them, including my brother, and we're all thinking the same thing. Why the hell did we even come here? The decision was made to leave, Haley was satisfied with two rides, I bought hot dogs on a stick for Haley and Danny, and we were out like trout. Walking to the parking lot I remembered the dad I saw when we were walking in and thought, yes, I too feel that same relief.
The kids were both passed out before we even left the beach flats and I drove home, relieved. A successful trip. No abductions, no poop explosions, no meltdowns, and no deepfried twinkies...but lord knows I wanted one.
To sum up, I hate the boardwalk - with every cell of my body, but its a sacrifice I am willing to make for the little ones.
Every time a go as an adult, I feel that another piece of my childhood is being torn away, another memory tainted. The Boardwalk used to have this majestic feel, a place where I'd go with my cousins and we'd ride the Rocko Planes, or the log ride and have a killer time. Now I go and its just a mockery of my own memories. Sad.
I took Haley and Sam there last week. As I learned later, waiting in line with Haley for the Merry-Go-Round, that it was, in fact, the dreaded 75 cent night. If I'd known, I would've endured Haley's imminent 28 minute meltdown by putting the kibosh on the trip right then and there. The moment we reach the parking lot ($10, thanks have a great day) the palms of my hands begin to sweat, my breath gets shorter, and I begin to talk in stunted, nervous bursts...doing the best to hide my disdain for the sake of my daughter's fun. Sam's in the stroller, Haley refuses to wear a sweatshirt, and we're off to the boardwalk...YEY!!! We pass a group leaving the boardwalk that look happy enough - well to do. Then I faintly catch the eye of the dad, and I could feel through his eyes his utter relief that they were leaving, and there were no calamities to show for it.
22 years ago, my own father wasn't so lucky. Young Danny Robertson blew out his diaper with what my dad calls an all-time poop EXPLOSION (bathrooms of the world #21) and was forced to change him in the men's bathroom, at the boardwalk, on a very busy night. Right as my dad's releasing the demons, a group of biker gang dudes walk in...mind you that the changing table is the first thing you walk past when you enter. So these biker guys are cussing and carrying on about my brother's cursed diaper - "Jesus Christ - IT SMELLS LIKE SHIT IN HEAR!! What the fuck you feedin that kid." And my dad, an engineer with glasses and a 80's pornstache, just gutted it out on clutch performance under intense pressure. Pretty much your worst diaper changing nightmare ever. Surprisingly my dad was OK, and he would tell you that the boardwalk is not on his 'favorite santa cruz locations' list.
As we approach the entrance, the DR Dipe Explosion story was well in the forefront of my mind and, needless to say, it wasn't calming my nerves.
That should say something right there that I was nervous entering a place of glee, fun, and happiness.
I feel as though I'm constantly dodging groups of people as I weave a tight line with Sam in the stroller and Haley on my arm. (Why is it that whichever direction I walk at the boardwalk, I feel as though I'm walking against the flow of the crowd? I frickin hate that!) I'm not lying about how uncomfortable I feel at this point, and my face reflects this as Haley asks me, "Dad, are you happy right now?" I gaze down to her, breaking out of my own downward spiral of thoughts and smile. "Yeah honey, I'm good, I just want to get to the Merry-go-Round." That GOD DAMN MERRY GO ROUND!! I just need to GET TO IT. Like I said, it was bad...I'm on this crazy mission to get to the Merry go Round, not step in gum, not run Sam into a drunk idiot, and make sure Haley doesn't get abducted.
Fun.
So we finally get to the line for the Merry-Go-Round and I realize that I won't be able to go on with her because I don't have a ticket and I also have Sam. My attitude and general mood sink further as I think of ways to pull this off successfully. Haley has already made friends with another little girl, slightly older than her. Her mom, a polite, squat woman offers to take her on the ride, and I oblige. Haley gets her joyous ride, and Sam and I wave to her as I put on my best happy face I could find. I really was proud and happy to watch her have so much fun though...that's why I go, as cynical as this story is, its for her and Sam and that makes me feel good.
After the Merry-Go-Round, of course the next ride she wants to go to is literally as far away as you could be in the Boardwalk. Yey. So we fly like a butterfly through the crowd passing people with "Fuck you" T-shirts, and Tesla tank tops. Large Latino families who look like they might do much of their family "shopping" at the Boardwalk, and several poorly tattooed middle agers who look like they'll smoke a cigarette before and after anything they do. Mullets? Really? I didn't know they still existed.
We miraculously make it to the boat ride, and Haley has a blast while Sam yells inaudible calls to her - probably making fun of the kid in the back seat of her boat crying the entire time. I translated for Sam - "What a little whiny bitch of a boy! He's gotta be 7 years old? WTF?" Meanwhile the kid's poor parents sit on the side of the fence, watching helplessly, as their snot-nosed son goes round and round. At one point the dad kept making a shrugging gesture to his son as if to say, look, your wasting 75 cents right now.
I look at my watch, Jesus, we've been hear 2 hours. And I forgot to mention that the whole time, and reason for being there, was to meet my cousins, who have children of their own. Luckily we didn't meet up with them before they went on the cave train, which is equally horrifying for me and for Haley...but that's another story.
So we finally catch up with them, including my brother, and we're all thinking the same thing. Why the hell did we even come here? The decision was made to leave, Haley was satisfied with two rides, I bought hot dogs on a stick for Haley and Danny, and we were out like trout. Walking to the parking lot I remembered the dad I saw when we were walking in and thought, yes, I too feel that same relief.
The kids were both passed out before we even left the beach flats and I drove home, relieved. A successful trip. No abductions, no poop explosions, no meltdowns, and no deepfried twinkies...but lord knows I wanted one.
To sum up, I hate the boardwalk - with every cell of my body, but its a sacrifice I am willing to make for the little ones.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Bringing home the Bacon
Often times when I explain to my daughter why I have to go back to work, I tell her that I have to bring home that bacon. Then she gives me this look, thinking, yeah, I guess we don't have any bacon. Yesterday I go home for lunch, and Haley wanted to go swim. I said, "Sorry Bubb, I have to go back to work." She looks me in the eye with a very serious face and says, "Because you gotta bring home that bacon?" I laughed and said yes, yes I do. I didn't realize I fell into her trap...quick on her feet she runs to the Fridge and yells, with a smug smile on her face, "but we already got some right here! -You can go swim with me now!"
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Bathrooms of the World (#341)
So I’m reading on the pool deck at Cabrillo during Haley’s swim lesson, thoroughly engrossed, then all of the sudden I hear her yelling across the pool deck, “DADDY, I GOTTA GO PEEEEEEEE!!!”
I’m like, Christ, just go in the dang pool, your dad’s peed in this pool literally thousands of times. So I go and take her into the bathroom, with goggles still on, and try to explain to her softly that she should just go in the pool and not even tell anyone. And she says “But dad the teacher says I can’t”, “That’s why you don’t tell anyone Haley, geez, and keep it down already”. “But daaaaaad, I’m not supposed to…” “OK, I understand that, but a little pee ain’t hurtin no one, and you just keep it to yourself.”
Then she got all mad that it was the boys bathroom and I had to insist that I wasn’t allowed in the girls bathroom, etc. So she finished up, and I told her once again not to tell anyone about it, just go…so she runs back into the water and bellows, “My dad said I should just go in the pool next time.”
(head slap)
I’m like, Christ, just go in the dang pool, your dad’s peed in this pool literally thousands of times. So I go and take her into the bathroom, with goggles still on, and try to explain to her softly that she should just go in the pool and not even tell anyone. And she says “But dad the teacher says I can’t”, “That’s why you don’t tell anyone Haley, geez, and keep it down already”. “But daaaaaad, I’m not supposed to…” “OK, I understand that, but a little pee ain’t hurtin no one, and you just keep it to yourself.”
Then she got all mad that it was the boys bathroom and I had to insist that I wasn’t allowed in the girls bathroom, etc. So she finished up, and I told her once again not to tell anyone about it, just go…so she runs back into the water and bellows, “My dad said I should just go in the pool next time.”
(head slap)
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