Dip, Anyone?

Well, we opened the pool today. Yikes, what a mess. I don't know if the heavy rain and snow we got this past year did it or what, but this is the worst I have ever seen it. I'd like to report that the water is green. That would be a good thing at this point. But when we pulled the cover off, the water was actually black. I was excited when I first saw it. I thought I struck some bubblin' crude. Oil that is. Black gold. Texas tea.... I bet you knew I was going to do that. Unfortunately, upon closer examination, I just struck crud. Not crude. It was at that point that I had to make the decision to either start cleaning it or stock it with bass and break out the tackle box. After careful consideration, I opted to start cleaning. Actually, all I did was start the filter and dump in enough chemicals to kill all life forms within a 10 mile radius. Only the roaches will survive. Well at least they'll have a clean pool to swim in.

Sleep Deprevation

Here it is. Just before 9 p.m. on Saturday night. My eyelids feel like they have weights on them. I am really tired. Why you ask? Well even if you didn't ask, I'll tell you anyway. This morning was football sign-ups! But of course, if you want one of the coveted 35 spots on a team, you have to get there early. And when I say early, I mean 9 p.m. the night before. If you wait until sometime Saturday morning to get in line, you're out of luck. The wait outside was pretty brutal. It got cold and windy. This year I took a grill and tailgated. Then a bunch of us huddled around the "campfire" and shot the bull all night. Then, to make matters worse, the doors opened 30 minutes late. After we waited in the cold for 11 hours, they couldn't manage to get the doors open on time. They managed to get the concession stand opened by 6 a.m. sharp. But the actual sign-ups, inside where the heat is? Couldn't pull it off. They almost had a riot on their hands. So anyway, that's why I'm so tired. I've been up for going on 38 hours straight. (with the exception of a brief nap when I got home this morning after signing the boys up. Then what does my dumb a** do? I cut the grass. Brilliant, I know. Then I manage to find other things to keep me busy, right up until now. But do I go to bed? Nooo. I write on the blog! I'm a real genius. Well, now I'm so tired, I'm getting cranky with myself. Probably time to go. I've got to get up early and weed-whack!

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Alright, I have to tell this story. Linda will probably kill me when she reads it, but whatever.

Now I can say this about Linda. She runs a tight ship. Sun up till sun down, she's on the ball. And our home and our family is better for it. June Cleaver on steroids, if you will. (minus the pearls.) Now with that drill sergeant mentality, it's only natural that she demands a little respect, from not only me, but especially from the boys. Lord help you if you dis' June. It's on. Not even Ward can save you then. Which brings me to my story.

Yesterday, we still had family visiting for Easter. So in the morning, there was our three boys as well as their cousins Kristopher and Cara. All the kids decided they wanted to go outside. Nice day for it. One problem. Our boys know the rules. If Aaron wants to go out, you have to be the big brothers and take him with you. Well they decided to just grab their shoes and go. Linda started calling them. "Boys! Boys!" she called.... Nothing. She proceeded to put Aaron's shoes on, growing more frustrated by the minute. You have to understand one thing. Three days with Collin, Matthew, Aaron, and Kristopher in the same house, and something's gonna give. And it gave. Linda took Aaron outside and found the boys playing under one of our trees in the front yard. She also found our neighbor outside of her house working on her yard. No matter. I guess she thought if they hadn't moved by now, then they must be used to it. So once again she called, only a little louder this time. They were all the way across the yard, after all. "BOYS!!!" ...Nothing. So a little louder. BOYYYSSS!!! ....Again, nothing. Now they've done it. They've awoke the sleeping giant. David Banner is about to go green on their little butts. She bellows in a Hulk Hogan-esk voice. ( "The Hulk-a-maniacs are gonna get ya, brother!!") BOYYYSSS!!!, she yells. Finally, they look up at her. Then she let's it fly. "When I call "boys" , if you've got a penis, you better answer me!" Well, that got their attention. And the neighbor's as well. Little boys hate when you refer to "that" in public. It's like kryptonite is to Superman. Anyway, they decided to not only answer her, but to come to where she was standing and find out what she wants. Mission accomplished. Order restored. Respect earned. End of story.

So if you're wondering how a seemingly timid woman consistently defeats attempts at anarchy in a house full of males, there you have it. Oh, she just called me. If I want to keep mine, I better go see what Colonel Cleaver wants. I hope it's not those pearls.

Here We Go Again? Maybe Not.

I felt I had to comment on the recent HUGE trade that has made Donovan McNabb a Redskin. While my initial reaction , after hearing about it late last night, was here we go again. Another big name veteran, arguably beyond his prime, signed by the Skins. ( see "To Hail with the Redskins", November 5, 2009. ) But after stewing on it all day, I have to say, I'm warming up to it a bit. It was a decision made by Bruce Allen and Mike Shanahan. Not Vinnie Cerrato and Dan Snyder. Football guys making a calculated football decision. They want to win now. Not in three years. NOW. Donovan McNabb brings that to the table. I think. One thing's for sure. He's definitely a step up from J.C. Now the question is, can we protect him and give him time to be the play maker? That's where the draft comes into play. The Redskins need to draft Russell ( I can't spell or pronounce his last name ) from Oklahoma. A BIG left tackle that would immediately fill a BIG void in the O-line. That combined with a now deep running back trio (Portis, Johnson, and Parker) could make for an interesting season. But I think above all, the one thing that encourages me the most about this team is this. The first offer the Skins put on the table was Albert Haynesworth straight up for Donovan. What that tells me is the new smarter management of this team recognizes that the $100 million dollar Haynesworth deal made last off season by Vinnie Ceratto was foolish. They tried to off load that noose around their neck the first chance they got. The Eagles, wisely, turned that offer down. So even if we're still stuck with Haynesworth, we now have a future Hall of Fame quarterback leading our offense. Not a bad position to be in. I think we still need to pick up a quarterback later in the draft to train under McNabb, but I think Allen and Shanahan have put the Skins in the best position to win games this year. And that's what it's all about. I'm ready to be a proud Redskins fan again.

Grass Cutting

Whew! Just got done mowing the grass for the first time this year. Now let's see. At least once a week, four weeks a month, seven months. Hey, only 112 more cuttings and I'm done for the season. At two hours total each cut, I spend approximately 226 hours every season cutting grass. That's almost ten 24 hour days dedicated to my lawn! That doesn't include the fertilizing, flower beds, yada, yada, yada. I don't think I spend that much time with my kids. Or my wife, for that matter. I should legally adopt my lawn so I can claim it on my taxes, just like the kids. Actually, now that I'm sitting here thinking about it, I'm beginning to like my lawn more than my kids. My lawn doesn't back talk. It doesn't fight me to eat a meal. No poopy pants, boogers on the wall, or any other bodily fluid mishaps. (Clean up in isle seven!) In the winter, it leaves you alone for months. My lawn didn't once say this past winter, "Dad, I'm bored!" And, if you don't like the way your lawn is turning out, just plow it under and start over. Try doing that with your kids. "Uh, son. We don't like the way your turning out, so to make a long story short, your mother's pregnant and your out." That's why we had Aaron. We screwed up the first two so bad, we figured the third time's the charm! Although I have to say my lawn doesn't always do as I say. "I don't like the looks of that crabgrass next door. You stay away from him. He's nothing but trouble." But it invites crabgrass over anyway. Then I have to be the bad guy and send his new friend packing. Hey, that's another advantage of a lawn over a kid. You don't like his new friend he brought home, you kill him! No discussions. No arguments. Just Round-up. Problem solved. Wow, don't ask me where this pile of rambling crap came from. Maybe Mom took too many happy pills when she was pregnant with me. After all, the third time's the charm. The first two are obviously screwed up! Just kidding. Just kidding. I should probably stop now. Later.