‘Twas the Friday of Spring Break and the end was near.  I wanted to figure out an activity that would make the final day fun for the boys.  Breakfast out.  Yes, easy win.  Then I informed the boys of their boring task of the day, they would need to accompany me to the grocery store (boo, hiss).  That is the moment that little 6-year-old Ben offered me a lifeline, “Can we play the claw machine?”  Yes!  The fun I so desperately sought.  The mighty claw machine at the grocery store, which is filled with stuffed animals.  The mighty claw machine that sucks up quarters and dispenses disappointment.  The mighty claw machine that must be vanquished!

We had settled down for breakfast and I was managing to keep the noise at our table to a dull roar, when an older gentleman stopped by to refill my coffee.  In a playful tone, he asked my boys, “Have you seen the Easter Bunny?”  This question made me smile in that it brought back memories of one night in college, when a few of us drove around to various establishments on the Saturday before Easter asking, “Have you seen the Easter Bunny?”  Well, we received a variety of responses that night, some playful (the radio station), some seemingly annoyed (hotels, if I remember correctly).  Any who, I smiled as my boys shrugged their shoulders confused about the appropriate answer.  Then unexpectedly, the man glanced over his shoulder and turned around.  Much to my surprise, sticking out of the rear of his jeans was a bunny tail!  In a stunned fashion, I let out a slight giggle.  My boys were still utterly confused, but seemed to appreciate the silliness of the moment.  Then, as if that was not enough, the man made the tail wiggle from side-to-side.  Thankfully, I kept my shock to myself, as my mind wondered what muscles were required to make this wiggling take place.  Needless to say, the price of breakfast was well worth it.

Exiting the breakfast establishment, still trying to wipe the vision of the bunny tailed jeans from my mind, we headed toward the claw machine.  One additional stop would be needed to fully defeat this foe.  The bank.  A roll of quarters.  Now we were ready!  Bring it on!  Settling in, we stared down the vending machine full of odd looking stuffed animals.  We had been defeated by the claw machine before, but this time was different.  This time we were ready.  We had lots of quarters.  Plenty of ammunition was on hand.  The timer whirled.  The claw released.  The action was blinding.  The excitement was non-stop.  When the dust cleared, our expedition had been a raging success.  We had bagged five stuffed animals.  (Clarification:  I stilled needed to raid the car’s change bin and the actual cost per animal was about $2.75 each, but still five is an impressive claw machine total by any measure.)  The variety was also impressive:  a stuffed duck with a football body, a fuzzy robot Easter basket, two animals (one lion, one dog) dressed as bunnies, and the best of all a “TV Brick.”  Yes, a TV Brick.  Soft and brick looking, the toy was intended to be thrown at your TV during sporting events in case of a bad officiating call.  Manufactured in China, it had been baked with the finest stuffed animal clay.  It was truly a victory for the good guys.  Our team had defeated the claw machine.  We felt like champions!

Having conquered our Claw Machine adversary, we returned home to continue our Spring Break quest of watching all six Star Wars movies, plus two cartoon variations, in succession, without losing our minds (okay, that last part was just for me).  Sitting down to watch Episode III “Revenge of the Sith,” I had the TV Brick ready and aimed.  You see, the Star Wars prequels have this animated doof of a character named Jar Jar Binks.  If anything in Star Wars is worthy of a TV Brick, it is Jar Jar Binks.  Well, perhaps an annoying kid version of Anakin Skywalker or a whiny rant from C-3P0 or Luke, but other than those cases, oh and the Ewoks, too, Jar Jar Binks ranks right up there in the deserving of a TV Brick category.

Thinking I would be funny and even though I told the boys repeatedly that they were to never actually throw the TV Brick at the TV, when Jar Jar’s goofy mug appeared on the screen, I could not control myself.  I let loose.  I let the brick fly.  Stunned, the kids watched as the brick flew through the air and struck the TV screen.  Then what happened remains etched permanently in our collective memory as the screen flashed a bright white light in the area of impact.  My heart sank.  I feared as if I had done something truly horrible.  Something unspeakable.  The TV appeared to have been taken down by the TV Brick.  After the combined gasp of the Paulsen boys, the brick rebounded and as soon as the white flash had appeared, it once again vanished.  No harm had been done.  I had committed a grave sin and by divine grace received a pardon.  The TV would live another day.  The TV Brick would forever be grounded.

Simulated impact of the TV Brick.

Reflecting back on the day, I realized that I narrowly avoided disaster, but more importantly had created a memory.  Years from now, the Paulsen boys may remember their father to be a tad bit foolish and impulsive, but he certainly knew how to close out Spring Break with a bang.

The TV Brick appears to have played a significant, but underreported, role in the destruction of the first Death Star.

You know 11-year-old Jacob cares for his little brother 6-year-old Ben.  If he didn’t, Jacob’s socks would have been abandoned by Ben’s head, rather than at his feet.  Such a kind gesture, such brotherly love.

Look to the right…  abandoned socks perched upon a couch pillow. 

Why do we even bother owning a hamper?

From Autumn to Spring, I have an odd obsession with decorating the front of the house.  It starts in early October with “Jack-o’-lantern leaf bags.”  Then at the first sign of snow, a weekly sign announcing the thoughts of the snowmen residing in our front yard.  Sadly with the melting of the last snowman, we are just left with a small wooden post waiting for one last comment.  A comment that will need to wait until next Winter.  A post that will be soon removed and wait again for the first sign of snow.

Exiting today’s Maundy Thursday church service, I had a thought.  Why not take that empty post and make it into something special.  A fitting welcome to Spring.  A fitting transformation into new life.  All we needed was another piece of wood and some screws.  The answer was so simple, but it would provide appropriate closure.

Sharing my thought with my boys, they readily agreed to travel to Menards for the supplies.  They have grown to enjoy my bursts of silliness.  They now enjoy the playful nature of the front yard decorations.  I had been successful in sharing a bit of joy.

Charlene recently wondered if our youngest son Ben will be more squirrelly than me, when he grows up.  A frightening prospect, but a strong possibility.  His smile shines.  His joy bubbles through.  And not just Ben, but also his brothers.  They are all happy (some days more than others).  They all see life in a good way.  Full of possibilities.  Full of happiness.  Then when they get together (minus the usual sibling strife), their joy seems to build upon each other.  A true blessing to behold.

So whatever worries present themselves.  Whatever sadness is thrown our way.  I just need to look at my boys and there I see blessings.  Blessings given by God.  Blessings beyond measure.  The Easter story is ours to behold every day.  We just need to look beyond life’s troubles and see the amazing gifts that surround us.  Blessings that remind us of the gift of life we get to celebrate daily.  Happiness and joy surrounds, embrace it.

Oh, as for our parting sign of Spring, it’s one that has stood the test of time.  May all of your Good Friday moments be followed by the glorious rebirth of Easter morning.

 A reminder that Mount Calvary was not the end…

…it was part of a glorious new beginning.

Well, here I am folks, giving you a live report from our backyard clubhouse floor.  A little background first.  We planned a pretty low key Spring Break for the kids.  The most exciting thing being discussed was watching our way through the six Star Wars movies.  Other than that, nothing on our plate, just a lot of relaxing and little adventures around town.  The boys had other ideas.

One of their ideas for Spring Break was spending a night in the backyard clubhouse.  That is where I find myself surrounded by my personal clone army.  Tucked away on my corner of the clubhouse floor, under a small battery powered light, with a weak Internet connection, trying to will myself to sleep.  Unfortunately, I usually go to sleep 2-3 hours after the boys, so here I find myself.  Cold hard floor.  Curled up in a sleeping bag.  Fluctuating between too hot and cold.

Then I settled down and realized that this is a small price to pay.  One uncomfortable night’s sleep in exchange for three happy boys.  Back pain well spent.

Okay, my post was not creepy, until I looked at my “selfie by the dim light.”  Creepy.  Not “Blair Witch Creepy,” but still a tad creepy.  Nighty, night all.

Given that our future is wide open, I have begun to consider things that I would like to accomplish over the next several months.  Yes, it is sort of a local bucket list.

One of the more epic items on my list was placing a large (extra long) scarf around Chief Kandiyohi’s neck.  Let me first explain a few things.  1) Chief Kandiyohi is a large golden statue of a Native American chief located in the center of Willmar, Minnesota.  2) Chief Kandiyohi is a really tall statue.  Much taller than a real person.  Much more golden than a real person.  I am not exaggerating.  3) Chief Kandiyohi does not wear many clothes.  4) Every time I drive past with statue, while the kids are in the car and it is cold out (this happens a lot in my family wagon in Minnesota), I comment to the kids, “I bet Chief Kandiyohi is cold.”  5) Like most of my jokes, I have told it way too many times and the kids just groan in response.

Well, I figured it would be an epic local bucket list item to place a long scarf around Chief Kandiyohi on a cold day.  Snap a photo.  Promptly remove the scarf.  No harm.  No foul.  All silly.  All epic.

Just one problem.  Like I said before, Chief Kandiyohi is pretty tall.  Oh, another problem.  Putting a ladder up against him would look very awkward.  Problem 3.  Some would consider this act of silliness vandalism, although if I take the scarf down right away, is there really a problem?  Is anyone hurt?  Any permanent damage?  Any victim?  Nope, nope, nope, and nope.  Only silly.  Only epic.

So, I began to consider the challenge of how to get this done.  I developed a plan that would make even Wile E. Coyote green with envy.  Weave a ribbon through the stitching on a baseball, tie the other end of the ribbon to the end of a scarf.  Repeat with a new baseball on the other end of the scarf.  Go up behind Chief Kandiyohi, toss the first baseball over his left shoulder.  Repeat for the right shoulder.  Walk around to the Chief’s front and using the ribbon raise the scarf around his shoulders.  Snap a photo.  Cut one of the ribbons and use the other ribbon to pull off the scarf.  All easy.  All peasy.

[Author’s Note:  Yes, I have given this way too much thought.  Don’t judge.  Feel free to go overboard on your bucket list and I promise to keep quiet.]

Last week, while the truly cold days were coming to an end and the Chief was still in need of a scarf, I convinced my sons that there was nothing illegal about my plan and we began constructing the ribbon-baseball-scarf-pulley-mechanism.  Time was ticking.  We had to act fast.  First problem, we value our baseballs too much.  Confronted with loosening the stitching, we opted to try out whiffle balls first.  Approaching the Chief with our elaborate ribbon-whiffle-ball-scarf-pulley-mechanism, we confronted our second problem.  It is very hard to accurately throw a whiffle ball up that high.  Third problem, even if we got the whiffle ball up that high and past the trees surrounding Chief Kandiyohi, it would take two perfect throws, one over each shoulder.  Nearly impossible.

As several throws went up (each one missing), a whiffle ball or two accidently hit Chief Kandiyohi’s back (upper back, mind you, not butt).  Each ball impacting Chief Kandiyohi produced a hollow thud.  At that moment, I realized he is not made of pure gold (shock!), but rather fiberglass (pure guess).  I was also glad at that moment that we did not throw baseballs toward the fiberglass statue.  Sure we were failing, but at least we weren’t damaging.

Convincing the boys that our attempt was folly and explaining that is why Chief Kandiyohi does not don winter clothes, I realized we had failed, but still I was proud.  I had fearlessly tackled my bucket list and now I knew the answer to the age old question, “Why isn’t the Chief scarfed?”  Answer:  “It’s super hard.”  All effort.  All good.

File photo of “Chief Kandiyohi,” shown on a lovely (too warm for a scarf) day.

Thursday, March 26, 2015 at 4:30PM

– Zero hours after cleaning –

Bathroom sink is clean and sparkly.

Thursday, March 26, 2015 at 8:47PM

– 4 hours, 17 minutes after cleaning –

Sink has been used by two of three boys.

First signs of toothpaste droppings.

Friday, March 27, 2015 at 7:30AM

– 15 hours after cleaning –

Toothpaste droppings appear to be multiplying.

Concerns grow.

Friday, March 28, 2015 at 6:55AM

– 1 day, 14 hours, 25 minutes after cleaning –

Filth continues to expand across wash basin.

Public Health emergency declared.

Friday, March 28, 2015 at 7:40PM

– 2 days, 3 hours, 10 minutes after cleaning –

After extensive investigation, list of suspects narrowed to one.

Judge orders mandatory toothbrush training.

Late last week, I found myself in one of those dark places.  You know the kind, a dark place where despair and overwhelming sadness rule.  One of those places, where you just say, “Shucks (because this is a family show).”

Indeed, it was one of those days, where you feel like Rocky Balboa after a bought with Apollo Creed or Clubber Lang or Ivan Drago or Tommy Gunn, take your pick (sorry, my “Rocky” knowledge maxes out at “Rocky V”).  You feel like you’ve been knocked around.  You’re nearly down for the count.

Well, the good news is that you don’t need to throw in the towel (final “Rocky” reference, I promise).  All dark clouds pass.  All moments of darkness eventually give way to dawn.  The light will win, just cling to whatever you have left and eventually it will shine through.

These brownies recognize that dark place, while providing a spirit of hope.  Hope of a brighter tomorrow.  Just like all of us have an inner light, these brownies hold a deeper spark, a lime punch that fights through the dark chocolate and shows its promise in the lime zest scattered on top.

So next time you’re in the dumps, look to lime flavored brownies, because at times we all travel through some dark place.  Dark places filled with despair and overwhelming sadness.  Just remember your inner light and it will carry you through to a new day, I promise.

DARK PLACE LIME BROWNIES

“This is a rich fudge-like brownie with a powerful lime taste.  Satisfying your chocolate desires, while providing a rich lime undercurrent, these brownies are both classic and innovative.  All brownie.  All good.”

½ cup and 2 Tablespoons Butter

4 ounces Semi-Sweet Chocolate

1 cup Sugar

¾ cup Flour

¼ cup Cocoa Powder

2 Eggs

1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract

¼ teaspoon Sea Salt

2 Tablespoons Lime Juice

2 teaspoons Lime Zest

2 ounces Semi-Sweet Chocolate, chopped

¾ teaspoon Sea Salt

1 teaspoon Lime Zest

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Cover the bottom and two sides of an 8”x8” baking pan with parchment paper.

By going up the two sides of the pan, you will be able to lift out the brownies with the parchment paper.

Using a microwave, melt together the butter and 4 ounces of semi-sweet chocolate.  Check every 30 seconds.

Mix in sugar, flour, cocoa powder, eggs, vanilla extract, and ¼ teaspoon sea salt.

Mix in the lime juice, 2 teaspoons lime zest, and 2 ounces semi-sweet chocolate.

Pour batter into parchment paper lined pan.

Sprinkle with ¾ teaspoon sea salt.

Bake for 35 minutes or until a knife comes out clean.

Allow the brownies to cool on a wire rack for 15 minutes.

Use a spatula to loosen the sides of the brownie from the pan and lift out with the parchment paper.

Allow brownies to cool completely on a wire rack.

Once cool, remove parchment paper and cut into smaller brownies.

Sprinkle the top with remaining 1 teaspoon lime zest.

Makes about 25 brownies.

Revised Source:  “Extra-Dark Brownies with Sea Salt & Lime” on www.thekitchn.com.

Friday afternoon, our 6-year-old son Ben’s Kindergarten class hosted a “reading party.”  The event was cute with an intro poem and song, which was followed by the kids taking their parents to various corners of the room to show off their reading skills.

The other kids were a little faster selecting their spots, so we ended up in a less desirable location between some bookshelves, one of which held a box of Kleenex.  Other than my legs continually falling asleep, as I tried to sit “criss cross applesauce,” the spot worked out pretty well and considering that Ben had a runny nose, it pretty convenient sitting by the tissues.

The half hour party was winding down, as Ben finished up reading some books about a variety of topics, such as unusual pets, the seasons, a visit to Grandma’s house, and the “Ant and Grasshopper” (which we have long thought was a biopic piece about Charlene, the hardworking ant, and me, the playful grasshopper).  Suddenly I sensed someone behind me, as a child approached the Kleenex box.  Before I knew it, there was a loud sneeze, followed by a heavy spray landing on the top of my head.  A collection of germs and thick mucus mist now coated my hair.  Resisting the urge to run toward the sink and douse my head with scalding hot water, I realized that it was a strange sign of Kindergarten acceptance.  I was no longer a random Dad.  This hazing ritual had welcomed me into the pack.  I was now a friend.  A friend, who could now be freely sneezed upon.

6-year-old Ben appears to be holding a sock party on the dining room table.  I’m kind of sad that my socks weren’t invited.  In time, my socks will get over the slight.  Time heals all wounds, except for holes in socks, that requires a bit of mending.

This past weekend, I went up to the attic and transferred out our meager St. Patrick’s Day decorations for our substantial-four-plastic-tub Easter decorations.  After carrying all of the bunnies and plastic grass down the stairs, my enthusiasm for decorating was nearly gone by the time the last set of Easter goodies arrived in the living room.

Thankfully, our 8-year-old Sam tackled the holiday decorating with youthful glee.  After an hour of Sam’s effort, the house looked festive for the upcoming holiday.  Bunnies, baskets, and plastic eggs hung here and there throughout the house.

Heading up to bed, I was surprised to see that Sam had also decorated our bedroom.  There sitting on our pillows was an old friend, my Bugs Bunny stuffed animal from my childhood.  Over the past few years, as my mom had sent boxes of childhood relics to our home, Bugs Bunny had found his way into our Easter decorations.  He is after all a rabbit and Easter is a good time for rabbits.  His new home was appropriate enough.  When Sam had seen Bugs, he figured the appropriate place for my stuffed animal would be my bed.  Sam was right.

Now only one question remains, how wrong is it for a grown man to sleep with a stuffed bunny?  Well, it’s plenty wrong.  I do however beg your understanding.  Given the crap that we have lived through over the past two weeks, I’ll take comfort and happiness anywhere I can find it, even in the arms of a Wascally Wabbit.

 Bugs in his new home

(at least until the Easter decorations return to the attic)