Okay, so I am directionally impaired.  I admit it.  I could not find my way out of a box, if the top was open.

Apparently, so is my fourth grade son, Ben.

Driving Ben to a sleep over, it was dark.  I had been to this house once or twice, during the day.  Ben had been there one hundred plus times, each time riding his bike through a park.  Sadly, it was dark and cars cannot drive through parks.  Plus, we are both apparently directionally impaired.  In short, we were screwed.

We started approximately 1/4 mile or less from our destination.  Ben began giving me directions.  Right.  Now, left.  Now, another right.  We had driven about one mile and we suddenly found ourselves back on our street.

Then the answer came to our clueless souls.  Take roads that hug the perimeter of the park, so simple, but so right.  Stick close to the park and we would eventually stumble across the house.

Teamwork and common sense for the clueless.  That’s a winning strategy, day or night.

For his day off from school, my 6th grade son Sam decided to set a world record.  He looked up some possibilities and decided on one that he would try, “Sitting with a _____ on your head (duration).” ***

He set up his tablet to record and began watching some movies.  Throughout the day, I would receive text updates.  It looked like my boy would have a world record in hand (via a _____ on his head).

Coming home, I saw him dejected.  Yes, just like a slugger, who missed a game winning homer by a foot or a quarterback who threw an interception to end the game, my son was horribly sad.  You see, the tablet’s video function turns off after one hour.  A technical glitch that ruined it all.

Well my son, ice up those sore muscles.  Now, you know that you can do it and you are aware of your last obstacle to cross.  I would say that’s a day off well spent in any record book.

*** – Note that the thing on Sam’s head has been withheld, in order to give him another chance.  Thanks.  I knew you’d understand.

A few random photos to help you smile.  Enjoy and goodnight.

The mail cart at work.  Glance beneath the handle, a smile awaits.

Why hello there, Oscar Meyer Wiener Mobile.  So nice to see you.

Wiener Mobile Smile.

A stuffed caterpillar perched on the butt of Hall of Famer Rod Carew’s statue.

Furry Caterpillar Smile.

A soccer field, no wait!  What’s that?  Zoom in.

Dear God, zoom out!  Scary…

Sorry, no smile for that last one.  Just be thankful that you walked away in one piece.

The End.  You’re welcome.

Friday night, two days before confirmation.  A boy and his father presented with a nearly impossible task:  purchase a church worthy shirt and pair of pants.

Let me tell you, miracles do happen and when the pressure is on, men can shop.

How did we do it?  Well, it ain’t easy.  You see, you have to have faith bigger than my head.

Yep, that’s big!  I told you that it wasn’t easy.

I grabbed my lunchbox and I weaved through the parking lot.  It was Monday.  Meetings awaited me.  Internally, I readied myself.

Approaching the crosswalk, I looked up.  A car slowed to let me across.  I hesitated.  What if the car leapt into the crosswalk and flattened me?  Nope, it’s Monday.  I would rather not test my luck.  I waved the car across.

The car however stayed put.  They really wanted me to go.  I waited, just to be sure.  A long pause.  Fine, I took a step into the crosswalk, which happened to be simultaneous to them heading into the crosswalk.

The car slammed on the breaks from their half-a-mile-per-hour speed.  I retreated to the curb.  Ah, an intense game of politeness chicken.

I bashfully glanced at the car.  The driver waved me across.  Fine, I would go.

I trotted across the asphalt.  Safely reaching the other side, I looked back to give the driver a friendly “thank you wave.”

That’s when I saw the driver, a face I knew well.  My boss.

Reaching the desk, I prepared a draft for my next performance review.  “How I promise to be more decisive at work (especially in the parking lot).”

Today, my 9th grade son, Jacob was confirmed at church.  As we packed up the car to head to church, it began to snow.  At first surprised by an October 14 snow, I then smiled.  I remembered that God is full of surprises and that God has hardwired each of us full of surprises.  I do not know what the future holds for my boy, but I sure look forward to seeing what wonderful surprises he has to offer the world.

My boy Jacob with snowflakes in his tired eyes.

The Paulsen boys being reminded that Winter arrives on October 14 in Minnesota.

God surprising us with a piece of smiling confirmation cake.

Who knew that God would surprise the world by someday making this handsome 1980s confirmand into a good dad, fine baker, and owner of a pretty decent blog in his own little corner of the internet?  Surprise!

Oh dear, I would have dressed nicer.  Really, I never had a clue.  Who would have guessed that today would be the day that I parked next to Grandma Jewels?

When you have photographic proof of the first time your child thought, “Perhaps Dad really has gone mad.”

I woke up, rolled onto my side, and glanced at the clock.

3:30 AM

Ugh, it was going to be hard to fall back asleep.

Then I heard my faithful dog rustle.  I suspect a dream filled with chasing rabbits.

I heard the soft breathing of my wife.  She was in a peaceful slumber.

Then I focused on the silence.  God was in the silence.  A comforting silence that told me all was well.

I smiled, wrapped in comfort, and drifted back to sleep.

Friday night, I dragged my tired self toward the car.  Long day at work.  Hard Spin Class at the Y.  Time to drive home.

Before starting the car, I glanced at my phone.  A message from my friend at work, Jane.  Sent 35 minutes ago.  “Where are you?,” the message read.

Fair question.  My response, “YMCA, my second home (smiley face)”.

Immediate response from Jane, “Dave!  So sorry.  I thought that message was going to Kevin (Jane’s husband)!  No wonder I didn’t get a reply from him!”

Indeed, score one for Kevin.  Off the hook for “delayed spousal text response.”

Minus one point for me, I should have spotted a misplaced “classic spousal text” a mile away.