A few years ago, my son went to the Rose Parade as a spectator. This year, he worked as a volunteer float decorator with a community service group from his high school. They worked on the City of St. Louis float, which won the President’s Trophy for most effective floral use and presentation. Yeah, I know pretty much every float wins some kind of trophy, but the President’s Trophy is one of the good trophies. To give you the flavor of the thing, here’s the list of “suggestions” given to volunteers by the float-building company: PLEASE DO NOT BRING RADIOS, WALKMENS, CAMERAS, HANDBAGS OR JEWELRY. BRING YOUR I.D. AND MONEY ONLY. FANNY PACKS WORK GREAT. WEAR OLD BUT WARM CLOTHING AND STURDY SHOES WITH CLOSED TOE AND HEEL. TIE BACK LONG HAIR. FIRE LANE MUST BE KEPT OPEN AT ALL TIMES AND THE AREA AROUND THE FLOAT SHOULD BE KEPT… Read more →
EppsNet Archive: Kids
Blame Roger Goodell
My son’s explanation to his mom on why he can’t turn off Madden 2008 like she asked him to: I can’t stop in the middle of a game. Roger Goodell has not sent me a notice that we can do that. Unless there’s a weather delay or fans throwing things on the field, which there isn’t, so that can’t happen. Read more →
A Christmas Story
One of the cable stations had a 24-hour A Christmas Story marathon. I’ve never understood the mania some people have about this movie. I mean, it’s a nice movie, but 12 consecutive showings?! Anyway, my son turned on the 10 p.m. showing last night and we all watched it. My wife fell asleep as she often does watching movies, but the boy enjoyed it. Merry Christmas to everyone who’s taken the time to read this site over the past year. Read more →
Absolute Rule
My wife asks our son, “Would you do me a favor and take the trash out?” “Wow,” the boy replies in disbelief. “And they called Caesar an absolute ruler.” Read more →
The Conversationalist
As I’m driving my son home from hockey practice, I start the conversation by saying, “So . . . looked like a good practice.” Silence . . . “I said, ‘Looked like a good practice.’” “That wasn’t a question,” the boy replies. Read more →
Father-Son Greeting Cards
This is screamingly funny in an unfunny way . . . An Irvine man has started up a greeting card company specializing in father-to-son cards: Founder, Steve Cunningham, a father of four could not find masculine cards written with the right message for his boys. During his travels, or when away for long periods, he often wanted to send a card conveying “I’m thinking of you” or perhaps express an uplifting word of encouragement, motivation, or proud of you. After endless searches on-line and in countless retail outlets, Steve begged the question… why is so little attention paid to men, particularly fathers who play an invaluable roll in the development of their children? OK, first of all, Steve is an idiot. He’s got a less-than-rudimentary command of the English language, but like many incompetent people, is unaware of his own incompetence, and thus doesn’t hire a copy editor to clean… Read more →
A Taxonomy of Freaks
My son’s playing a game of Madden ’08 . . . “I’m playing linebacker,” he says. “I’m a physical FREAK!” “What other kind of freak is there?” I ask. “I don’t know,” he says. Read more →
You’re My Dad
Will you come to see me Jack When I’m old and very shaky? Yes I will for you’re my dad And you’ve lost your last old lady Though you traveled very far To the highlands and the badlands And ripped off the family car Still, old dad, I won’t forsake you. Will you come to see me Jack? Though I’m really not alone. Still I’d like to see my boy For we’re lonesome for our own. Yes I will for you’re my dad Though you dumped me and my brothers And you sizzled down the road Loving other fellows’ mothers. Will you come to see me Jack? Though I look like time boiled over. Growing old is not a lark. Yes I will for you’re my dad Though we never saw a nickel As we struggled up life’s ladder I will call you and together We will cuddle up and… Read more →
Halloween 2007
My son put on a cap, a pair of sunglasses, hung a clock around his neck, and went trick-or-treating with his friends as Flavor Flav. I can’t imagine anyone in Irvine is going to be able to figure that one out. Postscript “One woman asked me, ‘Are you supposed to be Flavor Flav?’” he says. “What was her ethnicity?” I ask him. “White.” OK, I stand corrected. Read more →
Greed
The dog is sitting attentively watching my son eat a chili dog. “You’re not going to get any of that,” I explain to the dog. “He’s greedy. He makes Jack Welch look like Good King Wenceslas.” “And you,” the boy says, “make Donnie ‘We Found Him’ look like one of the Three Wise Men.” The boy going deep in the archives to pull out a Wild Thornberrys reference, in which Donnie — seen here hanging from a tree limb — was a feral boy raised by orangutans. Read more →
A Lesson in Leadership
I took the dog for a walk this morning before dropping my son off at school . . . in theory, the dog is “his” dog, but in practice, I wind up doing most of the work. As we got back from the walk, the boy was standing outside yelling, “Let’s go! We’re late!” “Okay, Mr. Doesn’t-Do-Any-Work-While-Barking-Out-Orders-To-Others,” I said. “That’s what leadership’s all about,” he said. Read more →
In Fair Verona
My son and I are in the kitchen looking for something to eat. He finds a bag of Pepperidge Farm Verona cookies (I prefer the Raspberry Milanos myself), holds the bag up to my face, and says In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean Two hours traffic on our stage blah blah blah Then he eats the cookies. So who says Shakespeare has no relevance for the modern student? Read more →
School Choice
Another gem from the freshman football mailing list . . . Of the four high schools here in Irvine, only one — Irvine High — has a stadium on campus. There’s a movement afoot, led by local attorney and parent Emmett Raitt, to build a second stadium. Here’s an excerpt from Emmett’s email suggesting that parents write to the school board about this matter: The reasons a second stadium are needed include the elimination of Thursday night games, which lowers student attendance at games; it will ease the overcrowding of the Irvine Stadium facility (and particularly the snack bar, a personal favorite of mine); and it will allow all schools to use District facilities for their graduations, which they do not now do. Hmmm . . . I can’t see how increasing student attendance is going to ease overcrowding, nor do I think the fact that some local fatso thinks… Read more →
Getting to Know You
My son’s just diagnosed and fixed a problem with my wife’s laptop PC . . . “I should join the Northwood [his high school] Tech Squad,” he says, “with all the guys who tuck their shirts in.” “That reminds me,” my wife says to him. “What clubs are you in at school?” “What clubs am I in?” he says. “How about none?” “You need to be in a club,” she says. I say, “He’s in football and roller hockey.” “He can be in those,” she says, “but he still needs to be in a club so he can get to know people.” For some reason, this launches the boy into a Rodgers and Hammerstein tune . . . “Getting to knooooow yooooou . . .” “Can you look it up,” my wife says, “and see what clubs they have at Northwood?” “No,” I say. “I’m busy.” Which I am. “When… Read more →
Tricks of the Trade
The Chevron Extra Mile store near us has a Meal Deal where you get a 32-ounce fountain drink and a Johnsonville Brat for $1.99. My son’s looking it over . . . he’d rather have a Smoky Cheddar Dog but that’s not the deal. So he plops a Smoky Cheddar Dog into a bun, completely smothers it in mustard and chili so you can’t tell what’s in there, takes it up to the register with his 32-ounce soda and says, “This is a Meal Deal, right?” “Yace,” says the Indian clerk. As we’re walking out of the store, he says to me, “Tricks of the trade.” Read more →
Life Lessons
My friend PE was laid off recently. He’s leasing out his house and renting a smaller place in an effort to keep his finances under control. This should be a good lesson for that boy of his: Work hard all your life, try to do the right things, and you too can wind up with no house, no job and a wife who hates you . . . Read more →
If the Shoe Fits
I hobbled into a job interview today like a man whose shoes were too small for his feet. No, wait, let me back up a little bit . . . I can never find anything around the house because people keep moving my stuff. Why everyone can’t keep their hands to themselves, I don’t know, but I don’t even try to keep track of things anymore. I just look for something in the last place I put it, and when it’s not there, I ask someone. “Don’t ask me. I didn’t touch it.” So I look some more and it always turns out that my camera is in my son’s room, or my keys are in my wife’s purse, or the important document is in the trash, and everyone still maintains that they have no idea how it got there. Living with people is a mixed blessing, I’ll tell you.… Read more →
Chicken Dinner
I picked up 8 pieces of fried chicken — 2 legs, 2 thighs, 2 breasts and 2 wings — at the Albertson’s deli today, which seemed like a pretty good deal for the family until my son decided to eat all 8 pieces himself. Wait, I take that back . . . “I’m going to eat this one,” I said, holding up one of the wings. “The whole piece?!” he shouted. “Are you kidding? You’ve got 8 pieces here.” “Not anymore!” he shouted. Read more →
Conversations with a 14-Year-Old
I’m trying to say something to my kid in the back seat of the car . . . he’s got his iPod on but I’m pretty sure he can still hear me. Finally he says, “Are you trying to annoy me into a conversation?” Read more →
Don’t Shoot Me, I’m Just the Translator
My son’s working on the computer when Lightning the pug jumps in his lap and lays down on his arm. “How am I supposed to type with a dog laying on my arm?” the boy asks either me or the dog, I’m not sure which. Lightning looks at me and pants a few times. “He says you need to start thinking outside the bun,” I tell the boy. “Ummmm . . .” “Yeah, I know, it doesn’t make sense to me either, but that’s what he said.” Read more →