No matter how much I was hard wired to pick it up, I refused. It was what I was taught to do. It was the right move financially. Yet, I walked away and it still felt right.
I had left it alone. I left that penny untouched on the floor of the Subway Sandwiches bathroom. One cent poorer, a multitude wiser.
Driving my 15-year-old to school, he turned to me and said, “You know Dad, that’s just as bad as texting and driving.”
Looking down at the bowl of oatmeal that I was eating while driving, I responded, “Yes, but it is good for my heart.”
Fine response, but it’s time to set the oats down and change my ways, because heart healthy won’t do me much good wrapped around a tree.
It may be just me, but I believe I reached a whole new level of problematic, when my car’s voice navigation sounded aggravated with me.
Pride. Pride in figuring out that the vacuum cleaner is not broken, it just has a clogged lower tube. (Who knew that they even had a lower tube? Vacuum surgeons? Certainly not me, until in an act of desperation, I Googled for help.)
A Moment of Silence. A moment of silence for all of our previous vacuums that probably died from a clogged lower tube, but were misdiagnosed.
A Lesson to You. A lesson to you to always check that lower tube.
Having some time inbetween meetings, I figured that I would get some work done at the library. To my delight, the library contained several study cubes, which were fully enclosed little rooms with doors and everything. I just needed to wait and pounce on a cube, when it became available.
Strategically, I found a comfortable chair and plopped down with my trusty laptop. Then I waited. One eye on the cubes. One eye on my laptop.
A half hour or so later, I saw a young man gather up his belongings and exit a cube. I pounced.
Proud of my catch, I entered the cube and turned on the lights. Suddenly, I was greeted not only by the desired silence of the cube’s interior, but also by a smell, the unforgettably powerful smell of Axe body spray. The previous dude had Axed up the cube.
Steeling myself, I opened my laptop to find my computer’s connection disabled. It appeared as if the Axe coupled with the cube’s glass walls had the power to break the Internet. It was time for me to go.
Exiting the cube in the hopes of returning to my comfy chair, I passed a woman heading toward the empty cube. She asked if it was open. Still trying to regain my sense of smell, I indicated that it was, but that the connectivity within the glass torture chamber was less than optimal.
Resting again in my comfy chair, I took a deep breath and returned to work. The woman that now occupied the cube probably thought that I bathe in Axe.
Yes, sometimes there are winners. Sometimes there are losers. Often times it is hard to tell er smell the difference.
Hey, all. A little bedtime gift for you. A sleepy time mantra that’s sure to land your tired mind in just the right place. Enjoy!
“Goodnight. Get some sleep. Kick some ass tomorrow.”
That is all. Night, night.
Reaching for my debit card, I remembered a simpler time. A time before three growing boys. A time when a sub-hundred dollar trip for groceries was the norm. A time when the “essentials” did not require a second mortgage.
A simpler time, when apparently we didn’t eat.
Hard to believe, but today I showed a real sign of maturity. Some would call it age.
I (me, Dave, that’s who) got up on a ladder and reached my hand into our home’s gutter. My face lit up with delight, as I found that the gooey decaying water leaf mixture was not frozen. I would be able to clean the gutters this autumn, after all. My night’s plans were set. Boy, did I feel old.
After ordering the “Chernobyl” chicken wings at lunch, I can now mark the days of my life as BW and AW (Before and After Wings).
As my 15-year-old finished his meal and walked away from the dinner table, he turned and remarked, “Thanks Dad, dinner was pretty good.”
Now, I know that my boy is an official Midwesterner, because he just offered high praise for my tater tot hotdish. High praise, indeed.