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Apply copious amounts of Jagermeister…

I used to believe that you could cure just about anything with Jagermeister.  I mean, you have a cold, try a little Jager. Ingrown Toenail, Jagermeister. Bad breakup from a long-term relationship, two shots ought to do it.  But I will shortly have 2 teenagers in this house and I don’t even think my old friend Mr. Meister will cure this one.

Jagermeister. Sometimes too much is...well too much

Jagermeister. Sometimes too much is...well too much

The funny thing is, I clearly remember saying at the birth of our second child (our daughter) “It will be just perfect, 2 years apart, boy then girl; perfect.  He’ll be able to protect her and they’ll be about the same age emotionally; it’ll be perfect”.  What kind of an idiot am I?!?!?! I am so ready to just chuck the two of them out of the house and talk to my wife about adopting a couple of Chinese kids who will be grateful for every single thing they have.

Right now, I’m refereeing the latest match in which child #1 is upset (not unhappy; livid) because child #2 chews her gum too loudly while child #2 (we’ll call her “the master of needling”) is pushing her book bag toward child #1 an inch at a time, while he’s not looking, just to get him all worked up about her stuff in his space.  Of course it doesn’t help that 14 (about to be 15) year old boy child believes that he deserves the same amount of respect (let’s call it reverence) from 12 (about to be 13) year old girl child that a World War II veteran of Omaha beach deserves from his country. Yeah, I got a whistle right here and I’m about to red flag the both of them. They are so lucky that I’m pro-life from conception to natural death right now! (That’s a joke folks, just a joke; remember blogs are therapy).

I wish I could even look forward to the hour or so at night after they go to sleep and I get to stay up and just enjoy the peace and quiet but who am I kidding; they could stay up so much later than me as to border on silly. The moment their little heads hit the pillow, so does mine and it’s light’s out for daddy baby.

It’s really too bad we don’t live in Texas anymore.  When we lived in Texas, the law was that I could buy my kids alcoholic beverages in restaurants (kind of a parental consent override to the drinking age law).  If we were still in Texas, I could apply the Jagermeister to the source of the problem (them) rather than the victim (me).  But I won’t do that either because I’m alone and what fun is it to get drunk when your wife is halfway around the world?  I mean, if I’m going to drink something that tastes like the distillery mixed Vick’s Formula 44 and Grain Alcohol; I at least want to be able to ply my lovely bride with it as well and then ravage her rockin’…oops, err, I mean hold her lovingly all night long.

And then there’s tomorrow night when I’m supposed to start attending a new men’s group that one of the priests at our church just recently started.  It’s all about Christian Fatherhood (in fact, the book we are using is called Christian Fatherhood by Steve Wood).  If you enjoy irony, you should be hog heaven right about now. It doesn’t matter though because my copy of the book has not arrived yet and I haven’t been able to read the first chapter like I was supposed to.  We’re supposed to smoke cigars after the meeting so I feel like I should go (cigars are a real guy thing and make our testosterone levels rise up).  Of course, I haven’t smoked a cigar since Thanksgiving Day 2001 (which might explain my low levels of testosterone more efficiently than just blaming middle-age) so I’ll probably just turn green and puke but there should be some entertainment value in that and I’ll be able to come home and blog about it…Yea!

Okay, I’m going to bed.  The only part of the day that I still control is bedtime.  The kids have to turn off everything electronic at 9:00 PM and lights out at 10.  I love it, I am still the king of the castle, I control the night! God bless you all.