3/13/04
We try to visit my older brother’s on Saturdays, but it’s a 70 minute drive. Sometimes I’m just not up to it though. Trainboy wanted to visit his cousins so we loaded our stuff in the car and away we went. We went to the end of the block.

As soon as I tried to drive my right eye started to twitch. As if being cross-eyed wasn’t bad enough, having an eye twitch back and forth made driving impossible. Trainboy was not happy, I could tell. Ms. Pikachu is all for not getting killed at a young age so she thought turning around was a good idea.

Part of the usual journey is a stop at a fast-food place. We then eat it while sitting through a car wash, or I just pull into a parking lot, because driving cross-eyed is bad enough, but having an attack of pain due to eating is even worse. The kids never complain about making sure I can drive safely.

So the trip was off, but everybody was still hungry. Very carefully, I drove over to Wendys. The kids got their usuals, I got my usual plus chili. When we got home we prayed first. We always thank the Lord for what we’re about to eat, and we always pray for Mommy at work. It’s our routine and we’re comfortable with it.

The kids ate their food, and I ate mine. I have to eat more slowly so by the time I was done with my burger the kids were already about finished. Next came my chili, and as it was removed from the bag Ms. Pikachu got excited. “Chili! You ordered chili? I want the chili!” She’s usually better mannered than that. Normally she only gets that excited around chocolate. Irregardless, I could not reward such…. Childish behavior. I said, “No, the chili is mine. If you wanted some you could have ordered some.”

She would not take “no” for an answer. She’ll probably find that useful if she has a career in sales, but it was not going to get her my chili. She reached, I held it away. She got up, I stepped away. And so the great Chili Race of 3/13 was started.

Ms. Pikachu chased me around the downstairs a few times, backed me into a corner once, all the while yelling, “Give me the chil!” It’s hard to run when you’re laughing though. Eventually I made a break for the upstairs. I hadn’t made more than a few steps when she grabbed my back pocket and pulled. Off balance, going off balance, so I backed down the steps. I told her pulling 200 pounds backwards really wasn’t a good idea. As she processed that little instruction I took off again, chili held out like an Olympian torch bearer.

Once more around the downstairs and another bolt for the stairs- this time success. I don’t move too badly for an old man. Then into this room and closed the door. Leaning against the door it was hard to believe how childish we were acting, but it was amusing. Due to my aforementioned weight she could not get in. But she tried, all the while yelling, “Give me the chili!”

This WAS childish, so I decided to try something a little more adult. I offered to split the chili with her. She would have none of it. There is no reasoning with a manic blonde. Eventually her mania gave way to tantrum. She informed me she had barricaded me into the room. The door opens inward- she is blonde to the bone.

I tired of it. I guzzled the chili.

A rather abrupt ending, but I have to get to work for a staff meeting.

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