[Last episode concluded with the house having partial power on Super Bowl Sunday.  My level headed wife convinced me to call the electric company, rather than banging the electric panel with a wrench.  Smart move.]

270 minutes until Kick-Off

Picking up my cell phone, I found the number for the electric company.  Following the prompts, I was informed that our neighborhood was indeed experiencing power outages.  The estimated time for repairs was two hours.  Power would be back on well before the Super Bowl, no problem.

240 minutes until Kick-Off

Rather than putter around the house, we decided to head out and have some Midwestern fun.  Oh yeah, that means a trip to Target.  Midwestern as fun can be.

We also figured that it would make sense to head to the gym.  The boys could play basketball and I could run, in advance of Super Bowl caliber caloric consumption.  What a plan!  What a day!  A Super Day for a Super Bowl!

210 minutes until Kick-Off

I headed out first with the boys to Target.  Charlene headed directly to the gym.  We agreed that we would meet back at home by 5PM, thirty minutes before the game.

180 minutes until Kick-Off

After getting our Midwestern fill of Target and some time at the gym, we headed home.

30 minutes until Kick-Off

We pulled into the driveway to see my beautiful wife (let’s just be clear that Gisele Bündchen has got nothing on my lovely lady) sitting in her car, which was parked in front of the closed garage.  The power had now gone completely out and the garage door would not open.

I soon became apparent that we would need to enter the house the old fashioned way, through the door.  Heading to the front door, we realized the storm door was locked.  The key would not work there.  Apparently, the guy (me) who was supposed to fix the broken storm door (the reason it was locked to prevent it from swinging open in the wind) had never gotten around to it (never mind, such details are not important and we should forgive the unpaid repair man, who was supposed to fix that door, I’m sure he has been very very busy).

No worries, we would try the back porch door.  Turns out the house key does not work there.  Who knew?  Guess I should have.

No worries, again.  Perhaps the door to the basement would open with the key.  Problem.  The basement door does not have a key hole.  Who knew?  Out of desperation, I tried the handle.  Out of pure mercy and the unintended side effect blessing of absent minded children, the handle turned.  The kids had left the door unlocked.  I smiled at our mixed fortunes.  Sure we had no power, but we could now enter the house and it appeared as if we were the first ones to discover the unlocked door.

0 minutes until Kick-Off

Somewhere, a football was lofted into the early evening sky.  The Super Bowl was underway, deep in our American as apple pie souls we knew this to be true.

[To be continued…]

 

330 minutes until Kick Off

For some unknown reason at about noon on Super Bowl Sunday, our home’s wifi decided to kick the bucket.  No luck rebooting the router.  Nothing.  It was dead.

I began researching options for replacing our router.  Then a few lights in the house stopped working.  Suddenly, the sinking feeling hit that it was much more than the router at play.

Venturing down into the storage room, I looked at the breaker box.  Nothing seemed wrong.  I flipped the switch for the lights in question.  No response.  My frustration level started to rise.  I blamed some primal hard wiring in my brain for the irrational anger building inside me (although I’m sure distant relatives sitting around the campfire worried about hungry bears attacking did not seem too concerned about their wifi connection).

Suddenly, all of my children had questions for me.  Favors to ask of me.  Desired attention in every way possible.  Hey kids, listen up.  Daddy is nearing a meltdown.  Run to your safe places.

Staring at the electric panel, my mind was out of options.  I looked at the main switch.  The Holy Grail of Total Reboot.  I took a deep breath.  I flipped the switch off and then back on.  Nothing.  Nothing, but blinking clocks in every room of the house.  Well Sparky, that was brilliant.

My beautiful wife came home to find me muttering to myself and one step away from curling up into a ball.  Then in a moment of great clarity only achievable when you are the lone sane person in a room, she said, “Why don’t you call the electric company to see if there is some sort of rolling outage in the area?”  Hum, not a bad idea.  Certainly better than my idea of grabbing a wrench and pounding the electric panel.

Kids, you have a very smart mother.  We have a new hope.

270 minutes until Kick Off

[To be continued…]

 

Charlene had a really busy week, so sleeping in a little on Sunday morning seemed like a good plan for recharging.

Since Charlene would not be joining us at the early church service (not really that early at 9AM), I did some advance planning to make for a smooth departure.  I gave my boys a few warnings that we would be leaving for church promptly at 8:40AM, because it takes ten minutes to drive to there.  After fixing breakfasts and ensuring that the boys looked decent, appropriate church socks and all, I hopped into the shower and was ready by…  8:50AM.  Ugh.  Behind schedule, but all should be fine.  I yelled instructions to have the boys get into the car.  I gave the dog a treat, entered the garage, slid into the driver’s seat, and was informed that one of the kids had yet to report to the car.  What?  Ugh.

Retrieving my lost boy, I turned the ignition and glanced at the clock.  8:55AM.  Ugh.  We would be late, but the Lord forgives.  Right?

Pulling into church, I told the boys to follow my lead.  I could see that they were still in one of the first songs of the service, so I led my little brood up the side aisle and slipped into the second row (you can always count on empty seats up that close).

Not more than ten seconds after we had settled in, the music stopped, and the congregation was instructed to greet their neighbors.  Turning to the mom beside me to say “Good morning,” she gave a knowing smile.  A gift, indeed, my opportunity to play the “Dad Card” and blame my worshipful tardiness on my kids.

A dad alone with three boys out and about.  A natural recipient of sympathy.  Even while I know that the sympathy is not deserved, it is still hard to resist.  Plus, knowing that women receive the opposite reaction of “Why doesn’t she have those kids whipped into shape on time?” makes me feel bad, as well.

Just this once however, it felt liberating to play the Dad Card.  I’m sure our Father who art in Heaven will understand.

How could anyone ever blame these sweet innocent Paulsen Boys (really angels in the flesh) for anything?  Bad daddy!  Bad, bad daddy!

 

HOANG’S CLASSIC CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES

“My friend at work, Hoang has been in search of a classic chocolate chip cookie.  Needless to say, I was happy to help lend my services in this noble quest.  The fruits of our efforts resulted in this timeless classic that provides a mild crunch and velvety soft interior.”

The Paulsen Boys gave the recipe three thumbs up.

Who could ask for more?

1/2 cup Butter (room temperature)

1/2 cup Sugar

1/2 cup Brown Sugar

1 Egg

1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract

1 1/4 cups Flour

1/2 teaspoon Baking Soda

1/2 teaspoon Salt

1 cup Mini Chocolate Chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Cream butter, sugar, and brown sugar.

Mix in the egg and vanilla extract.

Mix in the flour, baking soda, and salt.

Mix in the mini chocolate chips.

Place dough in the refrigerator for 15 minutes.

Place Tablespoon sized balls of dough onto a parchment paper lined baking sheet.

Bake for 8 minutes or until the bottom edges of the cookies have browned (peeking under the cookies with a spatula will reveal that the entire cookie has browned, but not burned).

Place the baking sheets on wire cooling racks.

Allow cookies to cool on the baking sheets for 5 minutes, before transferring them off of the baking sheets and directly onto another wire rack to cool completely (or almost completely, if you still want to eat them warm).  The extra 5 minutes of time on the warm baking sheet will actually allow the cookies to “bake” some more and set properly.

Enjoy!

 

Makes about 30 cookies.

Revised Source:  “Best Chocolate Chip Cookies” recipe by Dora, as found on allrecipes.com.

Reminders and Observations…  Remember to never bake cookies on a warm baking sheet, which will cause them to spread out.  My first batch turned out flatter and chewier.  My second batch was a little more “classic” in texture.  I attribute this to the second batch’s dough warming, as the first batch baked.

A cookie from the second batch, a classic.

After being alerted by a co-worker that I had a feather hanging off the bottom of my coat, I immediately became self-conscious.  This feeling lasted for approximately 30 seconds, after which time I became obsessed with two things.

1. Figuring out the source of the feather.
2. Figuring out a way to take a photo of the feather in action (the instant makings for a blog post).

The first item would need to wait.  The most time critical task was taking a photo of the tail feather in action, before it disappeared.

Note, it is very hard to take a photo of your own rear.

Plus, as you see, it does not make your rump look very nice.  Although, I do believe that the photo provides a blurry fleeting glimpse of the white feather.

Giving in to societal pressures and the difficulty associated with taking a photo of ones own bottom, I took off my coat for a proper photo.

Ah, that’s better.  The feather appeared to be coming from a hole in the back of my coat.  Missions one and two accomplished, until GASP!

At lunch, I spotted a feather growing out of my right index finger!  I thought the feathers were coming out of my coat, but now it looks like I was just sprouting my own plumage!

#TrialsOfABirdMan #ShakeYourTailFeather

 

After going out with some co-workers to lunch at a Lebanese restaurant, we piled into a car to head back to work.  I took the backseat and was stationed next to a child car seat.  As we drove along, I noticed that I smelled.  I smelled of the falafel sandwich that I had just enjoyed.

My mind raced through possible explanations.  Perhaps I simply smelled like the restaurant that we had just departed.  Nope, too strong of a scent.  Perhaps my pores were already passing along some of the yummy garlic.  No, it was far too strong of a smell.  Perhaps I was just a stinky, stinky man, who should be dropped off on the side of the road and soon would become known as that “Falafel Guy” to a the locals.  Well, that seems a little harsh, but my new found body odor certainly deserved such a future.

What could I do to save myself?  What was the solution to my dilemma?  Should I make a Walgreen’s run and coat myself in body spray?  Should I eat a box of Tic Tacs and hope that the minty smell would counteract my lunch?  Should I go to the gym not to work out, but rather to take a shower?  A shower involving lots and lots of body wash.

Self conscious?  Oh you bet I was self conscious.  Odds were that if the smell was so strong that I noticed, others could too.  Plus, since we were in the tight confines of the SUV, they probably already knew.  Knew that their co-worker stunk like lunch and needed to be banished to an outside cubicle on a cold winter day.

Just as I was losing all hope, I glanced down.  Down upon the adjacent child car seat.  My eyes caught glimpse of the answer.  Sitting oh so close and within the safety of an impact resistant transportation device was my co-worker’s to-go box from the restaurant.  Left overs, rather than me, were the culprit.  I had been exonerated.  Cleared of all smell related charges.

I breathed deep and smiled.  The scent of falafel was once again good.  Good to be riding next to me and not emanating from my inner self.

 

Yesterday, as I headed out of work to my car, I passed a co-worker who asked where my coat was?  My coat?  Oh yeah, I didn’t need a coat.  I had on a warm sweater, I’d be fine.

Turning on my car, I looked at the temperature.  34 degrees.  That’s when it struck me.  My body now felt like 34 degrees was a new normal.  Nothing to worry about.  Hey, maybe at 38 degrees I should break out the shorts.  What was happening to me?

Without my knowing, I was suddenly becoming a human popsicle and the worst part was I was fine with it.  The Cryogenics Kid or Mister Freeze, if you please.

Next week, if the temps reach 40, can anyone say, “Flip Flops?”  Not a day to waste, when you are trying to get a head start on your summer “Sandal Tan.”

 

After a night of lousy sleep, I thought I was doing fine.  The morning seemed to be humming along, then I suddenly realized that I was driving in the wrong direction to work.

This can mean only one thing, I need more sleep.  Otherwise, the following trajectory is inevitable.

Today – drove wrong way to work.

Tomorrow – head to the wrong job.

Day 3 – drive home to the wrong house.

Day 4 – start answering to the wrong name, something like Skippy.

Yep, only four short days until I become Skippy.  Sounds like a fine reason to turn in for the night.  Best proceed, while I still have a good chance of heading toward the right bed.

 

 

I know, I know, it is the Curse of the Middle Child.  Always sandwiched between brothers.  I must say however, our middle son Sam has excelled in the role.

Yes, our middle son Sam turns 10 today.  I remember that day and the sense of wonder and apprehension on his older brother Jacob’s face, when he met his little brother.

Taken a while later, older brother Jacob with his little brother Sam.

Then years later, as Charlene and I reflected on the imaginary friends of our children, Charlene observed, “Ben (Sam’s little brother) never had an imaginary friend, he had Sam.”

 Sam as a Big Brother “In Action” giving little brother Ben a bottle.

Sam, we love you.  Happy Birthday to the glue that perfectly holds the Paulsen Boys together.

 

Sam, our “Man in Black.” I believe Johnny Cash started out as a Fourth Grade viola player.

 

Oh and it also appears as if Sam is the only one who remembers how to smile.

Very rarely do I relay the same message on all of my social media platforms, but when you are sitting in church and receive a to-do list directly from the Almighty (plain as day), it’s worth passing along.

So here it is (found in Micah 6:8), God’s To-Do List for Me (really all of us, just sayin’).

1. Do justice
2. Love kindness
3. Walk humbly

Thanks, God.  It’s always nice to receive a gentle reminder (so much better than Fire and Brimstone).