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Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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As a matter of fact, I have been busy. Starting with yesterday-

It rained and rained and rained. Which is to say- it rained all day. There was no van out front when I got home, odd. The wife and kids were home, normally not odd, but really odd without the van out front. Superwife looked a little uneasy. She told me how “odd” transpired.

She took Ms. Pikachu to her flute lesson and waited in the van with Trainboy. She decided against leaving the engine running. That was reasonable. It got muggy so she turned the fan on. That was unreasonable. By the time Ms. Pikachu was done with her lesson the battery was too run down to start the engine.

It had been her intent to return some library books after the lesson. It was eight blocks to the library, or eight blocks home. So all of them walked to the library in the rain. When they were done they crossed the street to the bus terminal and rode the bus home.

Quick quiz- How do you know you’re having a bad hair day? Answer- when the bus driver tells you that if you have a Title 19 card you can ride the bus for free.

Second quiz- How does the husband know the wife had a bad day? Answer- if you don’t know, repeat the first quiz.


The rain showed no signs of stopping so we drove over to the school and jump-started the van. I was soaked. But since the Superwife equates services with love some points must have been earned. The soaking was surely worthwhile, for someday there will be a reward, or maybe not.

Easy assumption- any husband who values marital happiness will make no comments regarding the wisdom, or lack of same, of the prolonged running of power accessories with the engine off. Which is to say, sometimes the smart thing is not to appear that way. She loves me, not only for services, but because I know when to shut up. Usually.

We went home, got the kids, and went to see ‘Finding Nemo.’ Everybody loved it. It was sweet, funny, and had humor for the adults who must stay with the children. Smart move Mr. Disney.

In all honesty, I liked what I saw, but fell asleep for at least a half-hour of it. So I can’t say I saw the whole movie. But it was good, and if you see it you should stay through the credits. There are sight gags anybody could enjoy until the screen goes blank.

Then it was time to eat. Right across the lot is the usual string of restaurants. We hadn’t done the IHOP before, so there we went. Ms. Pikachu was enthralled by the selection of syrups- four of them. So she had to have pancakes, and pancakes she had. When she was done she declared she couldn’t eat another thing till morning.

It would not matter to her, nor to you, but let me expound on the joy of pancakes. When we were kids, anytime we went on a trip Ma made pancakes, because if you fill your gut with pancakes you won’t be hungry for a long time. It’s true. There is wisdom there for the traveling family.

The only problem with this wisdom is that pancakes don’t agree with everybody. I love ‘me. Syrup, fruit, whipped cream, just pile them on. The more the merrier, while you’re eating anyway. Shortly after eating them I always feel sick, but not to the point where I blow chunks. So I still don’t feel hungry for a long time. The wisdom still holds, even if my stomach doesn’t want to.

Upon returning home from work today the wife informed me of an event taking place related to the 4th of July where a band would play, and they’d have hot-air balloons. We went and sure enough, a band played, and there were hot-air balloons, five of them. They were inflated about sundown. Every time the burners were touched the balloons would glow. Very cool effect.

The band was a local one. They’ve been together since the Great Flood so they sound pretty good for a bunch of geezers. I almost fell asleep while they did a cover of Steely Dan’s ‘Do It Again.’ Almost. It’s impossible to sleep when offered a glass of lemonade and a bag of kettle corn.

Supermom and Trainboy went off to see the balloons close up.

Having a near captive audience Ms. Pikachu self-induced a fit of mania. She repeatedly said, with a loud voice, “I’m going to drink coffee, and eat beans, and have coffee-smelling farts.”

Small children looked at her like she was an alien and hid behind their parents. Fearful, yet too fascinated to look away.

Most of the parents looked at Ms. Pikachu, and then at me, smiling like “Have you got your hands full.” We do.

One of the nearby mothers was there with several kids. One of her kids was a girl about sixteen or seventeen. Said girl was wearing a tight t-shirt, low-rise jeans, and a thong. You couldn’t miss the thong; it was higher than the jeans and lower than the shirt. You wanted to say to the mother, “Have you got your hands full” but she probably already knew. It is a common problem. Saying "You've got kids," and "You've got your hands full" is redundant.

All kids want to be grown-up. All too often they make the wrong decisions to take shortcuts to adulthood. So the girls dress like sluts, the boys want to get drunk and take advantage of a slut, and all too often they smoke too. All done in an attempt to appear sophisticated and grown up.

The next thing they know they’re jump-starting a dead battery in the rain and wondering how they got old so fast.

Publicserf