Last item before bed, I figured I would finish a final load of laundry.

Picking up my son’s dirty baseball pants, I knew they would require special attention.  Spraying with abandon, I drenched the pants with OxiClean.

Nearing the end of my chemical dousing, my wife walked through the room and sniffed the air.  “What are you putting on those pants?,” she asked.

“OxiClean,” I responded in tired grump husband fashion.

“Smells like Tilex,” responded my concerned bride.

Glancing down, I saw that my beautiful wife was correct.  I had covered the pants with enough Tilex to clean a highway rest stop.  Twice.

Son, step away from the spray bottle.

 

My son asked for some duct tape and I waited patiently to see the project.

He did not disappoint and neither did the duct tape.

Broken Sunglasses + A Red Pen + Duct Tape = A Trip to the Store to Buy New Sunglasses.

Nice try, but in this case, I would bow to fashion.

 

To be a Subtle Savage (patent pending), act with bold, yet deceivingly understated, confidence.

Today’s setting:  the hotel breakfast buffet.

Upon entering, the room was near silent.  Guests shuffled about.  One woman stood before the vat of oatmeal contemplating commitment.  I had no time for such pause.

Grabbing my bowl, I moved in, scooped out two heaping ladles full, and for good measure sprinkled on a healthy dose of walnuts.  The woman still remained staring oat goodness, while now also shocked silent by my subtle savagery.

Sorry, my dear hotel neighbor, in order to battle cholesterol, you must fully commit to the oat.  That’s being a subtle savage.

Subtle Savage in his Oat-Full state.

 

 

Me: “Tommy (the neighbor boy), would you like to join us for dinner?”

Tommy: “Sure.”

Me: “It’s shrimp.  Are you okay with shrimp?”

Tommy: “No problem.  I like shrimp.”

Flash forward twenty minutes.  I am cleaning the kitchen.  I spy Tommy’s plate still full of shrimp and cued for the dishwasher.  Apparently, Tommy was lying and he really had no desire to eat shrimp.

Debating whether to take a bite of Tommy’s leftovers (standard protocol for a father to eat any food remains), my oldest son Jacob looked at me and said in a very serious tone, “Don’t eat that.”

I paused.  I considered the situation.  I fought my hard wiring.  I put the gnawed food remains of a neighbor boy into the trash.

Thank you, my son.  That was good advice.  How do I know?  100% of health professionals agree.

 

 

My son, my same son that used to follow me around the house for fear of being left alone, my same son that used to be struck with anxiety over the slightest change, appears to have turned a corner.  Well, more like turned the dial so far toward fear that he went all the way around to bold.  From timid to extrovert.  Extreme extrovert.

That transformed son came downstairs today, ready to raise money to fight breast cancer.  Yes, my once shy son went to pink.  Neon pink, that is.

 

Nothing appears to have cleaned out the sinuses of our big nosed dog (Kirby the Beagle) like gobbling up a Sudafed that I dropped on the floor.

Proof?  The ease with which he accidentally sniffed a boxelder bug up his nose this evening.

It appears as if nature’s scales have been tipped in our doggy’s favor.

 

I suppose it makes sense to require a permit, if you are going to be shooting buildings.

 

 

 

So here I am doing laundry.  I’d rather be watching the baseball playoffs.  So why am I folding clothes?  That silly “Office Employees Gotta Wear Shirts” Rule.  Oh, the sacrifices that we must make to be part of society.

 

MIRACLE MUFFINS

“I was short on milk.  The recipe called for 3/4 cup.  I swallowed hard.  Said a little prayer.  Poured.”

“It was a miracle.  This recipe was meant to be.  Enjoy!”

 

2 cups Flour

3 teaspoons Baking Powder

1/2 teaspoon Salt

1/2 cup Sugar

1 Egg

3/4 cup Milk

1/4 cup Vegetable Oil

1 cup Jam (I selected a delicious and perhaps a little Heavenly inspired strawberry rhubarb jam)

 

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Mix together the flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar.  Set aside.

Mix together the egg, milk, and vegetable oil.

Pour the wet mixture into the dry mixture.

Stir until just combined.

Fold in the jam.

In a muffin pan coated with cooking spray, distribute the batter between the muffin cups.

Bake for 25 minutes or until browned.

Loosen baked muffins from tin, but do not remove.

Top each muffin with a dollop of butter.

Allow to cool for 5 minutes.

Remove the muffins from pan and enjoy.

 

Makes 12 muffins.

Revised Source: “Jam Muffins” recipe on www.allrecipes.com.

 

 

Suddenly, it struck you.  The reason these tickets were so affordable.  This is what baseball must look like, as viewed from near Earth orbit.

Oxygen, please.