This morning, we slept in just a bit and had to hustle to get ready for church.  Seeing the shortage of time, I decided to head off to the seldom used shower in the bathroom by the guest bedroom.  The “Less Bathroom Congestion Leading to Quicker Prep Time” theory.

Proud of myself, my tactic allowed a full five minute of spare time to get dressed.  I could pull this off.

As I walked upstairs toward the bedroom to get dressed for church, I passed Charlene on the stairs.  Seeing me still in my bathrobe, she seemed a bit confused by my lovely post-shower shimmer.  “Did you already shower?,” she asked, while still trying to figure out my appearance.  After revealing my super clever secondary shower approach, my wife gave me another look and admitted with a smile, “I just thought you woke up beautiful.”

Aw, shucks.  No, that would be you, but thank you for noticing.

Note to All – Yep, there are days, when I live life drenched in sweetness.  It’s okay to be jealous.

Either my kids have been eating in the living room or (gasp!!!)…

…we own a dog eating couch!

When our boys were little, I had a running joke.  The joke was that I was raising “Free Range Babies.”  No fences.  No boundaries.  Just tiny children roaming the house free.

Tonight, as those those same children, years later, were bouncing off the walls of our home, my dear wife reminded me that it was my idea to raise, “Free Range Babies.”

Okay, so maybe it was not that great of an idea to minimize boundaries, but from what I hear, free range animals taste great.  Hey, let’s all just start by agreeing that you should not blame a guy for getting species all mixed up.  Honest mistake.

Seemed like a good idea to sort the laundry on the kitchen table.

Looks like it was a bad idea, when I found a little extra cushion waiting for me on my chair.

Atleast it was my sock on my chair.  It’s almost like it knew its home.  Don’t worry my friend, I have a foot waiting for you.

As my 8-year-old Ben prepared for bed, we got the news.  He was going to get to play on the same basketball team as his best friend, Brody.  Welcome news and great timing, since their first practice would be the next day.

The next morning, I proceeded with the morning routine of waking up my boys.  Upon entering Ben’s room, the normally not an early riser child, sprung out of bed with a smile on his face and a spring in his step.  A sure reminder of the joy that we should all take in having a good friend.

Ben and his friend Brody ready to take it to the hoop.

We spent a lovely afternoon at the YMCA and the family was traveling home.  As we drove, I had a thought.  Well, I actually had two thoughts, but I kept the second one on hold.

I offered up Thought Number One.  Turning to my wife, I suggested, “We could drop you off at home and I can take the boys with me to Target (to run the final errand).”  It actually was a pretty good thought and a path to Thought Number Two.

Dropping Charlene off at home, as soon as she exited the car, I turned to the boys and unleashed Thought Number Two, “Hey, you know a Darth Maul origin story would make a great Star Wars prequel.”

A general eruption of agreement rose from the backseats and then my 8-year-old son Ben observed with a chuckle, “You waited until Mom left the car, before you told us that.”

Ah my young Padawan, you have learned your lesson well.

The other night, our family began the night by watching the Orange Bowl together.  Our team, the University of Michigan Wolverines were playing the Florida State Seminoles.

The Paulsen Boys decked out in their Michigan gear and celebrating Michigan’s win of the coin toss…  the last thing that Michigan would win that evening.

By the end of halftime, my two youngest boys were tired and headed off to bed.  By the end of the Third Quarter, my lovely wife who was tired and fed up with Michigan’s inconsistent play, soon followed the others off to sleep.

That left just my 13-year-old son Jacob and me watching the conclusion of the game.  With each play, with each turn of events, I realized something.  The two of us were getting louder (thankfully we were in the basement) and having a great time.  It was a safety lock off type of moment, where we were just enjoying the moment.  Throwing a football around.  Whooping and hollering with each big play.

Then came Jacob’s pièce de résistance, his one man play showing San Francisco 49ers Quarterback Colin Kaepernick’s recent performance (note this had absolutely nothing to do with Kaepernick’s forms of political expression and was entirely about his lousy play of late).  Jacob would first demonstrate how Kaepernick used to play, by evading linemen and throwing a perfect pass.  Then Jacob would show Kaepernick’s current play, where he would mysteriously just fall to the ground, while fumbling the football.  Jacob’s mimickery was a thing of beauty and had me laughing so hard that I was crying.  One of those deep hemorrhaging laughs that are a pure expression of joy and something the you have no hope of containing.  Happiness flowing from within.

By the time that the game concluded with Michigan valiantly losing by a single point, the score really did not matter.  I had spent moments of pure joy with my son and that’s a victory in any league.

When I got my new smartphone, I named it “Fred.”  It just seemed appropriate to give it a name and Fred seemed to fit my new friend.  My new phone friend, Fred.

This started a small trend in our house and when my teenager got a phone, he named it, “Todd.”

My 8-year-old Ben wanted in on the act and the other night he announced to me that his tablet’s name was “Bobby.”  This was understandable, until Ben explained a little further.  “Earlier this year at school, I did not have anyone else sitting with me at my desk.  I had an eraser and I named it, ‘Bobby.'”  Oh, my.  This is just sad.  My son did not have anyone sitting next to him at school, so he befriended and named an eraser.

Folks, I just want to say that none of us have any idea for certain what 2017 holds, but I can say for sure, things won’t be so bad that you’ll need to befriend an eraser.  I’m pretty certain about that.

After recovering from the initial shock that you are the only parent in a room full of twenty minors, you soon realize the advantages to accompanying your kids on a day of Laser Tag.

1. You are a good foot taller than anyone else in the room.
2. You are a good foot wider than anyone else in the room.
3. Your deep voice carries a certain amount of authority.
4. Your size makes you an excellent human shield.
5. Take one (or several hundred) for the team, Pops.  This is Laser Tag and the team needs you.

Sure I am now considered “used quality,” but still for the set of all four Paulsen boys, you would think we would fetch more than $1 million.  Jeesh, what a bargain!  #BestDayOffEver

Dear Retailer,

Thank you for helping me with my online Holiday purchase.  The gift was received in a timely fashion and I was pleased with the quality.  I see a bright future for our relationship.

At this time, however, I feel it important to be brutally honest with you.  You are smothering me.  The attention that you shower on me can never be reciprocated.  I feel inadequate.  Unable to even find the time to read, much less open, your voluminous correspondence.

Every day, you fill my inbox with a minimum of two letters.  This does not seem like much, but I have a confession to make.  I have been shopping with other stores.  Lots of other stores.  Stores here and abroad.  I have always been safe in my transactions, but they all feel it necessary to shower me with attention.  Take your attention and multiply it ten fold and you will begin to understand the pressure that I am under.

I know that with you it is not SPAM.  I never would say such a thing.  I know you take the time to customize.  I know you try to fulfill my every need.  It just feels like too much sometimes.  Too frequent.  Too forced.  When you contact me, it should be something special or at least something free.  No strings attached.  No desire for my money in return.  That’s what I desire from our time together.  That’s the bright future I see.

Now, don’t get all high and mighty with me.  I know for a fact that you have thousands of shoppers, who also frequent your doorstep.  Many of these same shoppers you shower with the same attention that you give me.  You must be exhausted.  All that being said, don’t pretend that I am someone who is extra special to you.  Yes, I know that each customer is precious and unique, but you play the game.  Don’t for a second pretend that is not the case.

As a result, I must request that you stop contacting me.  I don’t mean that it is over between us.  I will still show up unannounced and share a special retail moment with you.  I will still visit you online and order that something special.

We still have a future, just not exclusive, and not as intense.

Yours in the Truest Form of Capitalistic Love,

Dave