Friday, December 27, 2013

When They Turn 21.... What Do You Do?

We were just finishing up Christmas dinner at my Dad's house on South Loring Street.  It was oh, about 3 bells or so and Laurette's raisin sauce had not yet kicked in.  The first of a fahkin' billion contractions kicked Kim in the belly and it was off to the hospital... But it was not until the wee hours of the 27th when the boy joined the party.  32 hours of labor pains, a boat load of happy drugs and one "Get some gum, your breath stinks" later, our first born stepped out of the darkness and said "Hey Mom.  Hey Dad.  Thanks for having me.  And welcome to the first day of my awesomeness."

Today, that fukker is 21 and ready to belly up with his brand new ID and order himself a beer like he's some kind of big shot.  Yep, the mensch who once aspired to be average (no sense in setting goals too high, right Bub?) is an adult.  Not an 18 year old adult who can vote and fight for his country, but a 21 year old adult who can buy his daddy a cold one!!!!

Your kids are your kids... how you spend time with them is a floating scale that offers no set rules.  So ya gotta fahkin' wing it!  It's pretty easy when they are young.  You learn quickly that pureed carrots taste better as a choo choo train.  You play lots of games and you lose every one of them on purpose.  Lie to them about Santa and giant rabbits and tooth fairies (and the Browns if you're in Cleveland).  "Making a stinky" is perfectly fine.  "Pinching off a shit" you just cannot say.  Over time, tho, it gets a little more fuzzy.  At some point, it is important to start winning some of those games.  Losing builds character.  You don't get a friggin' trophy just for playing.  Losing makes you appreciate hard work and dedication.  Being gifted wins your whole life makes you a Democrat.  Not to mention, later on, that little fukker who could not bounce a basketball without it hitting his foot will bury your ass in one on one.  We also have to figure out when the right time is to start introducing swear words into the household.  Some parents still refuse to swear around their children.  Those parents are fukkin' pussies.  It's like one day, you are watching a purple dinosaur get creepy with little ones and the next day you are couching it, watching Clay Morrow sing the praises of sweet sweet pussy during a prison bible study.  It's like that line you said you would never cross was never even there.  But it is kinda cool that my boy and I share many of the same interests... Michigan football, Monty Python movies and especially those two interests that belong to Kate Upton.  (insert gratuitous Kate Upton photo here)



So, my son, as you continue on your journey through life, today is a milestone.  You are 21.  You will be forging your own path and defining your own success.  Dr. Seuss talked about the Places You'll Go.. but Dr. Seuss was twisted left on opiates and also wrote about a giant Elephant named Horton and a couple of Things named 1 and 2.  So don't listen to him.  Listen to me... your wise old Dad....

When I reach the days of diapers and dentures and donkey balls, do not put me in a nursing home.  Remember that you owe me.  And remember....  always wipe front to back.  Don't want no dingleberries on my donkey balls.   Love you dude!!!   See you tonight!  I'll have a Bud bottle.

8 months... on vacation with the Bretons

No sense in waiting... Hooters is ALWAYS a good idea.

Sophomore at Alvirne

Junior at Westfield State University

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