Funny Guy Friday... Happy Father's Day...

    Last Saturday, while Grace and Cheryl worked at home getting Gracie packed and ready to volunteer at a week long camp for children with chronic medical conditions, I took the boys out to dinner with some friends.  The girls were leaving that night so they could be in Charlottesville, Virginia at eight o'clock the next morning.
    As we left the restaurant, the boys asked if they could spend the night at our friends' home.  Although the next day was Father's Day, I thought nothing of it because Grace would be at the camp and Cheryl would not be home before noon.
    When we got home, the boys raced into the house to get their stuff for the night. I took the dog for a quick walk and when I walked into the house, I heard Gracie speaking rather harshly to Matthew upstairs.
    Matthew... it is not the same thing... I am going to volunteer to help kids with chronic medical conditions.
    What difference does that make? 
    It makes a big difference! 
    Whatever it was that they were discussing, it was causing a lot of friction... and I had heard enough.
    Look, I have no idea what you two are fussing about, but knock it off. 
    Silence. Whatever it was, it was now over! Or more accurately, whatever it was, it was not for my ears.
    I later found out that Grace took exception to the boys not being home when I woke up on Father's Day. In fact, nobody in my family was going to be home on Father's Day. Gracie was of the belief that the only excused absence on Father's Day involves volunteering to assist children with chronic medical conditions.
    Sleepovers don't cut it!
    You know what all this meant don't you?
    I got to sleep in. I could wake up whenever I wanted... and when I did wake up, I could just lie in bed for as long as I wanted and do nothing... perhaps, even, go back to sleep. I had a free morning! Yay for me! This was gonna be nice.
    Not so fast, my friend!!!
    At 7:30 a.m. the phone rang. It was Cheryl.
    Hey what are you doing? 
    Sleeping?
    Did I wake you? 
    If I were sleeping and now I am not, it is fair to say that you did wake me! 
    Sorry about that... Happy Father's Day... can you do me a favor? 
    She forgot to get someone to cover her eight o'clock adoration for her.
    Of course, Cheryl saw this as an excellent opportunity for me. What better way to start Father's Day than for me to spend an hour with The Father... the Big Kahuna of Father's Day, if you will? The Father that started it all and to whom we owe all of our blessings.
    She laid it on pretty thick... accurate... but thick. 
    She added that when she does adoration, oftentimes, she will ponder that my dad is there with her. This made me chuckle as I pictured the end of Star Wars 3... the real Star Wars 3 which later became Star Wars 6.... when Obi Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker and Yoda all come back from the dead and stare approvingly at young Luke Skywalker.
    I pictured my dad standing there with God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit looking on as Cheryl prayed... with little Ewoks dancing in celebration.
    Sure, I can do that... sleep is overrated! I'll go to the 10:00 Mass right afterwards.
    Adoration was great... I stayed awake the whole time.
    Funny thing when I got there, I took over for another gentleman who was there for his wife. He commented that his wife thought it would be a nice start to his Father's Day to handle her 7 a.m. hour.
    Are all women so diabolical giving?
    Then off to Mass... alone... all by myself... no kids... no wife... where I was sure there would be a great homily about dads.
    I arrived early and had nothing to do. Typically, I would pray but I just spent an hour in adoration; I was all prayed out. My mind wandered, as it often does. I have a theory that Joseph is way under-appreciated, but I thought that on this day, Joseph would get some well-deserved props.
    Wrong! Apparently, there this Holy Trinity thing that gets its own Mass... on Father's Day, no less.  Not sure who designs the liturgical calendar, but I have a bone to pick. Joseph got the shaft, again.    
    At the end of every Mass, our congregation turns to the statue of Mary and sings a song in honor of the Blessed Mother. I had the crazy idea that we would... maybe on Father's Day... we would sing a little ditty about Joseph... BUT NOOOO!
    The church sang the same old song that we always sing....
    Immaculate Mary, 
    Your praises we sing... 
    You reign down in splendor 
    with Jesus our King.
    Ave, Ave, Ave Maria
    Aaave, Aaave Mariiia
    To be clear... I love the Blessed Mother. In fact, that song is one of my favorite parts of the Mass. Buuut we sing it... or one just like it... every stinkin' Sunday. Can't we, just once, sing a song for Joseph. Just one time... on Father's Day?
   What's that you say? There are no songs for Joseph? Say no more, I am on it!

   Under appreciated Joseph 
   You deserve your own song
   Few mentions in the Bible 
   and that is way wrong.
   Go... Go... Go Joe
   Go... Go... our man Joe
   Betrothed to the Virgin 
   When an angel did appear
   "She is pregnant with the Saviour, it's true... I swear"
   Go... Go... Go Joe
   Go... Go... our man Joe
   "You marry her anyway
   And raise His sweet Son 
   He could have picked anyone, but you are the one"
   Go...Go...Go Joe
   Go...Go...our man Joe
   Then off to Bethlehem 
   On a donkey you were sent
   Without any questions, away you went 
   Go... Go... Go Joe
   Go... Go... our man Joe
   No room at the Inn
   Added to your plight 
   Then shepherds and kings crashed your party that night
   Go... Go... Go Joe
   Go... Go our man Joe 
   An inspiration to dads 
   Always calm, cool and fair
   A carpenter by trade... you could even build your own chair!
   Go... Go... Go Joe
   Go... Go... our man Joe. 
    
    It's kind of a work in progress.

    Anyway, the boys got home at noon. Cheryl got home at 1:30, and together we spent the afternoon watching Noah's team win the Little League championship. We returned home for a victorious steak feast. It was a great day. The only thing missing was my baby girl Gracie.
    No problem, she had an excused absence... she was helping kids with chronic health issues.     
    Truth be told, my kids give me a gift every day. They are decent, thoughtful and loving children. It is all I can ask for... that and one stinking day to sleep in!

Funny Guy Friday... Party rehash...

    Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
    Well, we had over one hundred people show up for Gracie's graduation party. Not to toot my own horn, but I threw THE....BEST....PARTY....EVER! Don't get me wrong, Cheryl did some stuff too...but it was mostly me!
    Gracie's only regret about the party was that she did not get a chance to speak to everyone. I told her that was no big deal...I didn't talk to anyone at my wedding. I mean, I wandered around the reception and said hello, but I did not really talk to anyone. People are happy to get a hello, drop off a gift and grab some free food and a beer.
    Besides, Gracie can rest easy because I spoke to everyone at the graduation party.
    We have a pretty good formula for parties at our house.
    We cook a turkey and then get my mother to make meatballs, rigatoni and potato salad. My brother-in-law gets the beer...always too much beer, but we never run out...and then Cheryl spends most of the party refilling the empty food trays. I have the most important role in the whole process...I meet and greet our guests. Entertaining all these people can get exhausting. And it is tiresome having to answer all those questions...Where is Cheryl? Is Cheryl ever getting out of the kitchen? Wow, does Cheryl always work this hard? 
    Cheryl is in the kitchen....Probably won't get out of the kitchen....No, she does not typically work this hard. Now stop asking me the same silly questions, and I will show you where we keep the drinks!
    For whatever reason, Cheryl decided that we should have this party catered.
    I reluctantly agreed, thinking that my mother may need a break from all that cooking. We contacted Cheryl's brother's girlfriend who caters parties all the time. We went with a Hawaiian Luau theme. This included chicken teriyaki on a stick, BBQ with slaw, roasted vegetables, sweet potato fries, Hawaiian rice, fruit kabobs, and a variety of desserts.
    Nothing quite as good as my mother's meatballs, but it was all very yummy!
    So, as it turns out...my idea to have the party catered was a stroke of genius. The only thing we had to do was keep the coolers filled with ice, empty the trash cans and make sure that the kids did not lose the bean bags from the corn hole game.
    We had corn hole (professionally painted by Noah) and a frisbee game called Can Jam set up in the backyard. Both games were a great success, with one ugly exception.
     It all started when my nephew, Daniel, paired up with his fiancée, Kelsie, in a game of corn hole against Matthew and his friend, Tommy. With Daniel and Kelsie ahead 21-18, Tommy had the last toss. Kelsie had one last opportunity to clinch the victory...all she had to do was get one bag on the board for one point, thus making it impossible for Tommy to get the tie with a 3-point toss into the hole. Kelsie failed to make the shot and Daniel warned...If Tommy gets this in the hole, the wedding is off!
    Disturbing indeed...not the fact that he threatened to call off the wedding over his fiancée's lack of execution during corn hole. I actually admire his competitive spirit. No, what is disturbing is that he might be marrying a girl that can't handle pressure. For goodness sake, all she had to do was get one bag on the board!
    For those that care...Tommy choked, and the wedding is still on.  Good for Daniel and Kelsie...I guess! Unfortunately, I think Tommy and Matthew did break up.
    Now back to the party...
    Whenever one of my nieces or nephews graduated from high school, I took it upon myself to make a video chronicling important events of their lives. For instance, when my nephew Jonathan graduated, I told the story about the time his parents attempted to abandon him and join vaudeville as a magic act. Or, how Daniel was the only boy at an all girls' school. Or, how my nephew Joseph lost everything that was important to him...to the DeMatha Stag mascot.
    Okay, full disclosure...none of those things really happened...except, of course, in my videos. As the writer, producer and director, I tend to have creative license! I mocked them, I mocked their siblings, and I mocked their parents.
    So, how could I do such creative investigative reporting for my nieces and nephews but not for my own daughter?
    After visits to Gracie's elementary school, middle school, high school, and home school, it became clear that her former teachers barely remembered having Grace in their class. But, it turns out, and this even was a surprise to me...I was kind of a big deal at all of Gracie's schools.
    We had a great time catching up with and interviewing former teachers. And for those teachers that we could not catch up with, we found "suitable" replacements. They all willingly took time out of their day to participate in my little reindeer games.
   If you are reading this Debbie Kucevich, Margie Cavanaugh, and Leigh Hampton...thank you very much. And to the fake señora DiGiussepe...gracias and good luck with those immigration issues. The video was a big hit!
   By this time you may have guessed, I did not mock myself one little bit! Remember? Writer, producer, and director? Hello!
   Gracie had a great day. She had an opportunity to spend the day with friends and family that have meant so much to her over the years. Cheryl asked that people write letters to Grace for a keepsake book she will assemble this summer. The letters were moving and told the story of how a beautiful little girl grew up to be a lovely young lady. This is hard for me to say, but it turns out that it is Gracie that is kind of a big deal!
   We love you Gracie girl and cannot wait to see what God has in store for you!  And guess what...in four years, I get to throw another rockin' graduation party.
   In the meantime, Gracie, please do me a favor: don't go to any other parties while you are in college. They will not be fun... and they will only pale in comparison to the ones that I throw!

Funny Guy Friday... If you give a mouse a cookie...

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
     Have you ever read the children's book, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie?
     Basically, it starts out with a little boy giving a mouse a cookie... and then the mouse wants a glass of milk. When you give the mouse the milk... he wants a straw. After he drinks his milk... he is going to want a napkin... etc, etc.
     The more the boy gives the mouse, the more the mouse wants. One thing, unavoidably, leads to another.
     Parties at our house are like that. Despite the fact that we live day to day with all of our home's "little imperfections," parties give us an opportunity to spend a bunch of money... er uh, make some small home improvements.
     We are throwing Gracie a little graduation party this Sunday. If you happen to be around Sunday after three, come on by and say hello.... we would love to see you.
     More importantly, we would love for you to see our house.
     You see... If you Give Your Daughter a Graduation Party... you have to paint the front door... the same front door that has been chipping away paint for the past year.
     If you are going to paint the front door... you might as well take care of the back door too... and fix all the splintered wood and paint the back deck. If you are going to paint the back deck... you might as well get new flower boxes for the rails.
     If you are going to get flower boxes for the rails... you might as well buy new outdoor furniture. If you are going to have new outdoor furniture to sit on... you might want to get rid of the pile of debris in the backyard so your guests won't trip over it. And since your guests will be strolling around your yard... you might as well clear out all the flower beds.
     If you are going to clear out the beds in the yard... you might as well get poison ivy. Oh wait... no no no... we don't want poison ivy. That would be really bad right before the big party. Could you imagine getting poison ivy all over your hands, arms and legs before the crowds come? Trust me... that would be bad! Lets skip that part... I wish I could... thank you very much!
     Let's see, where were we?
     Oh yeah... if you are going to clear out the beds in the yard... you might as well edge the yard and trim the grass. If you're going to edge the yard and trim the grass... you might as well finish painting the corn hole boards that have been sitting in your garage for the past six months. If you're going to play corn hole on the freshly painted boards that had been sitting in your garage... you will want to place them on your well manicured lawn. If you put the corn hole boards on your lawn... your guests will be standing there looking at your house. If people are looking at your house, you should probably power wash it.
    If you're going to power wash the house... you should probably clean the windows. If you are going to clean the windows... people are going to see into the house.. so you better get all the light bulbs changed inside so people can see what they are looking into.
    On a side note, I find it remarkable that nearly all of our lights always burn out at the same time. What is up with that?
     Of course, if people are going to be looking into a well-lit house... you better get the house clean.  Once you get the house clean... people are going to want to come into the house. If people are going to come into the house, they have to come through the front or back doors. If people are going to come in the house through the front and back doors... you should probably paint the front door and the back deck.
     And you know... if you are going to paint the front door... and the back deck...
YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE A GRADUATION PARTY!!!
     We always manage to get it all done, but it is not without a lot of effort. In fact, if history is any indication, we will be "efforting it" right up to the very end.
     We will call may sister-in-law at 2:20 and ask her to bring ice. Funny thing about this is that three of my sisters-in-law just read this, and each thinks I am writing exclusively about her... we spread the ice request around depending on what time we will need it. You would think that after the hundreds of parties and family functions, we might just remember the ice. We don't.
     Cheryl will get her shower at 2:30, and I will follow her at 2:55. There is a very good chance that I will greet the first guests with a towel wrapped around my waist. I will hand them a knife and ask if they mind cutting up some fruit. Before they have a chance to say no, I will be off getting my shirt out of the dryer and heading back upstairs to change.
     Our kids tend to disappear during the wild last minute rush to get the party started. If they make the mistake of showing their faces, I will ask them to do something... anything... to "move the ball forward." And all will respond that they are already doing something for Mom.
    Really? Did Mom ask you to sample the lemonade with a frisbee under your arm? 
    We are very proud of our beautiful high school graduate and would love for you all to share the day with her. I was serious when I said if you are in the area, feel free to stop on by. However, I do have one final bit of advice: if I were you, I would not arrive before 3:15.
    And if you really want to make this host happy, congratulate me on my freshly painted front door, my freshly painted back deck and my freshly graduated daughter... in no particular order!    

~ The Graduate ~

Funny Guy Friday... They're a modern... electronic-age family...

    Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
    I remember the days when we had telephones that were attached to the walls.
    Your dad had to put a time limit on calls because there was no call waiting... only busy signals.  And if you happened to be talking to a girl on the "upstairs phone"... there was a pretty good chance that your brother was listening in on the "downstairs phone."
    On a side note... I hated my brother when he did that.
    We also had televisions that did not have remote controls. You had to lie on the floor in front of the set and change the channels with your feet... or if you were a complete loser... a.k.a, the youngest member of the family... a.k.a., me... you would actually be forced to get up and turn the channels by hand.
    Nobody wanted to go through that hassle. Of course, there weren't a whole lot of reasons to turn the channel because we only got ABC, CBS, NBC, Channel 20 and channel 5.
    Who can forget Je t'aime bien from Channel 5? I learned all of my foreign languages from Channel 5.
    Further, TV's then had no DVR, pause or rewind feature. If you had to get up and go to the bathroom, you were out of luck. Shows stood still for no man! You learned to "hold it" until commercial and to finish up "your business" as quickly as possible so you would not miss a minute of your "regularly scheduled program."
    Beyond this miracle of network television, if you were really fortunate, you had the Atari Gaming System. This provided you with a variety of games to play right there on your TV. And by "variety of games," I mean PONG and TANK. That was it!
    Nowadays, things are different.
    Our kids have everything they need and/or want at the click of a button on their phones. They can watch shows, text, email, listen to music, check their stocks, check the weather, play a variety of games (and by variety of games, I mean a real variety of games), add, subtract, multiply, divide, make a bank deposit, pay a bill, make dinner reservations... and they can even make phone calls.
    The problem is that everyone is watching shows, texting, emailing, listening to music, checking their stocks, checking the weather, playing games, adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing, making bank deposits, paying bills, making dinner reservations and making telephone calls... twenty-four hours a day... seven days a week.
    Our kids' noses are simply way too attracted to their cell phones.
    The other day, we were on our way to Damascus for a baseball tournament.
    We had our kids, plus one of Matthew's teammates. The friend sat in the back with our three kids, and at one point, after noticing complete silence with an occasional giggle, I looked in my rear-view mirror and saw all four of them looking down at their phones. I mentioned...
    I don't want to offend any of you, but you all look like a bunch of little girls checking out your little twitters about who likes who and who is wearing what.  
   Cheryl chimed in as she always does on these occasions... That's it, everyone put away their tablets... pay attention... live life! Live life is Cheryl's "go to" admonishment when the kids are overdoing the electronics. It applies only to the kids because sometimes Cheryl "just needs to look something up." I continued...
    Yeah, put away your tablets. Back when I was a kid, the only tablets we had were stone tablets... and we had to use a hammer and chisel in order to send a message. Like the Flintstones!
    The what-Stones? from the way back.
    Please, don't tell me that you do not know the Flinstones! They're a modern stone-age family... from a show we watched when we were kids.
    Like a caveman reality show? You know... like when you were a kid?
    No, Noah. Not a caveman reality show. Please tell me you're kidding? 
    I am kidding about the show... but I do think that you are old!  
    I believe that, as a parent, I have failed you all if you guys don't know who the Flintstones are. It's time for a quiz: What was Fred and Wilma's daughter's name?
    Silence... chirp, chirp.
    Finally, Gracie answered correctly... Pebbles!
    What about Barney and Betty's little boy?
    Matthew's friend answered "Dino."
    Too bad he lost twice the points for getting the answer wrong and pronouncing it "Dyno," as in dynamite.
    Someone mentioned that it was pronounced "Deeno," and that that was the dog's name anyway.
    Grace once again chimed in:  Dino wasn't a dog. He was a dinosaur!
    Ah. Good one Gracie.
    Matthew finally broke his silence...   
    I got it Dad... I will Google it up! Wikapedia baby. 
    No Wikapedia! Stay off those things.  
    Gracie nailed it again: The Rubbles' son's name was Bamm Bamm!
    At least I can comfort myself with the fact that we did a good job raising Gracie.
    Now the floor was open for conversation about the Flintstones. Of course the conversation included just Cheryl and me.
    That show was so over once they had to bring on the Great Gazoo! 
    Yeah, it "jumped the shark" once Gazoo was introduced!
    "Dumb dumb."
    "Yes Yes Yes... No No No!" 
    What great names... Mr. Slate, Perry Masonary, millionaire J.L. Gotrocks, Joe Rockhead, Ann Margrock! Great writing!
    That show was way out... way out. That's where the fun is... way out!
    Then the kids chimed in...
    Mom... Dad... stop. Can we turn on our tablets? 
    Since I am a benevolent dictator, I offered them a bonus opportunity to get their tablets back.
    If you can sing the Flintstones theme song, you guys win.
    Miraculously, Matthew who had offered nothing up to this point... other than a request to Google... began: Flinstones, meet the Flinstones. They're a modern stone-age family. From the town of Bedrock, they're a page right out of history....
    He nailed it.
    That was great. How did you do that?
    It is one of my songs for piano! 
    He hates taking piano lessons and only does so because Cheryl and I force him, in hopes that he will someday become a well-rounded individual that can do more than push buttons on a phone. Hopefully, he now sees how his piano lessons can come in handy in life.
    So let me recap:
    My kids, like many kids, spend a little too much time on their cell phones.
    I took away their cell phones and would only give them back if they could answer all of my simple questions about the Flintstones.
   They were powerless to answer all of my simple Flintstone questions correctly, without the crutch of Google.
   They were given one last opportunity to get their cell phones back by answering a bonus question... and were only able to do so because Cheryl and I, in hopes of raising well-rounded children, forced them to do something other than play on their cell phones.
   Oh, the irony!
   Maybe if we could somehow attach their cell phones to the wall... Or make them text only with their feet!

Funny Guy Friday... Memories of proms and state titles...

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
     Quite a nostalgic week for me.
     I was transported back to my senior year of high school... and two big events that had more to do with each other than you might guess. One was my playing on a State Championship Baseball team and the other was my senior prom.
     The trip down memory lane started on Saturday, when I had the pleasure of seeing my stunningly beautiful daughter off to the senior prom. Believe it or not, I loved her date and I hope that they continue to see each other for the rest of their lives. In fact, I would not even care if they moved in with one another and lived together some day.
     Okay, full disclosure... she went with two of her girlfriends... sans boys. This would have never happened back when I was in high school.
     Today's proms are different in a lot of ways.
     One disturbing trend is the promposal. Apparently, boys go to great lengths to ask girls to the prom these days. For instance, one young man showed up at a girl's home carrying two tennis balls, two baseballs, two footballs, and two basketballs... and a sign that read that he finally "had the ba--s to ask you to Prom." Some kid in Baltimore bought a thirty second TV ad to ask a girl. Another yo-yo dressed up like a Pokeman character and brought out the school cheerleaders to ask a girl during lunch in the school cafeteria.
     Nitwits... all of them... just plain nitwits.
     Why would they go to such lengths? What happened to the days of yore when you just called a girl... hung up... called her again... hung up again... threw up... called her yet again... and finally muttered something like you wouldn't want to... you know... go to... uh... the... uh... prom with me... would you? Oh... this is... uh Mark... uh Palumbo... that's P a l u m b o.... I'm in your math class. 
     Actually, I can't quite recall how I asked my date to the prom.
     We had been dating for a few months, so I am guessing it was just assumed that we would go together. I can assure you that I did not rent out a mariachi band and do the Mexican prom dance.  My guess is that I called her one night and said... we're going to the prom, right? 
     Funny thing is that she and I almost never made it past the first month of our "budding relationship."
     We had been dating for a few weeks before my first baseball game that season, and I went hitless in four plate appearances. On the bus drive home, I decided that the reason for my failure was the girlfriend... too much time with her. Clearly, it could not have been my fault... she had to go. I never got a hold of her that night to deliver the bad news, and the next day I went 5 for 5. She got a reprieve!
     Had I reached her that night, I probably would have missed my senior prom.
     The day after Gracie's prom on Saturday, we headed to Aberdeen to watch my nephew coach the Archbishop Spalding High School baseball team to a State Championship win Sunday evening. As I watched the team celebrate its victory, I flashed back to the day when I was a slick fielding, scrappy hitting (scrappy is a good word for a dink and dunk hitter that had no power) second baseman for your 1981 Maryland State Champion Bowie Bulldog baseball team. It was quite a year... we went undefeated, and four of us were named to the Washington Post and Washington Star All Met teams.
     I was captain of the team, dating the Mayor's daughter, and needless to say, I was kind of a big deal!
     Apparently, not that big of a deal. This is where the baseball and the prom collided. Our team was practicing the day before the big dance. We had planned to go to dinner in Baltimore with another couple before heading off to the prom. Halfway through practice, my assistant coach called me into the dugout, sat me down and told me that my date and I were no longer going to Baltimore for dinner. I assured him that we were... that we had made plans... had reservations and everything.      
     Plans change 'Lumbo... your mother-in-law called me, and she thinks Baltimore is too far away for you to drive! 
     Get out of here.
     Nope, you are going to dinner in Annapolis.
     Wait, wait, wait... who is my mother-in-law?
     Your date's mother. The Mayor's Missus.
     Oh! Do we have reservations in Annapolis?
     Sure do... all taken care of! 
     Thanks... I guess! 
     And with that, we went to Annapolis for dinner.
     I remember thinking that I knew so much at that time.
     It is funny now to think how little I did know. But what a great time in a kid's life. I am sure that Grace will always remember Saturday's prom at Ravens Stadium... and those kids that won that championship game on Sunday will always remember winning the championship at Ripken Stadium.
     Come to think of it, Spalding's prom was the night before their championship game. I wonder if my nephew changed anyone's dinner plans. I can attest that if he did... it would make for a great story that those kids will remember for the rest of their lives!

Funny Guy Friday... What happens on the patio... stays on the patio...

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
     This past Saturday night, Cheryl and Gracie went out with a bunch of women to see a movie called Mom's Night Out. I found it kind of curious that fifty women could all manage to go out together on the same evening... the night before Mother's Day, no less.
     That same night, Matthew was invited to a party... by a girl. A friend of his from church.
     I found great delight in teasing him about this event. Should I come in to meet your girlfriend's parents? What does her father do? Maybe after a few months dating he can get you a job! I think this "party" will just be the two of you and a few of her parent's friends sitting around the table sipping coffee talking about how they met! How did you two love birds meet?  
      I did wind up walking him to the door, but before we got close, three girls squealed Matthew is here! Turns out he had no idea who the girls were, but somehow, they knew him. In a sign of the times, the girl hosting the party had a photo of herself and three boys, including Matthew, from their Confirmation class as a screen saver on her phone. I understand why she would want the other two guys... but Matthew? ...as a screen saver? C'mon, sweetheart, you can do better than that.
     I had to laugh as we approached the girl's door.
     Typically, Matthew will kiss me good bye. On this day... with five teenage girls staring on... he just turned, waved his hand and told me I could go now. No kiss, no handshake, no nothing. He wanted no parts of his dear old dad.
     This is all understandable.
     Matthew turned fourteen last week, and he is getting older and entering into what my brother has dubbed "the lonely chicken" phase of life. That age where you slink off to your room and hang by yourself... or stay home when everyone else goes out to the store/mall/post office, etc. But you always have time for friends.
     And boy, do Matthew's friends do some fun stuff. He used to always have time for me. We still hang out... but not like we used to. Now he has what I like to refer to as "a life."
     Speaking of having a life... Grace is going to be 18 later this summer and is officially a baby woman.
     In fact, Cheryl's friends like Gracie better than they like Cheryl. This is not a new phenomenon for Cheryl because her sisters have been stealing her friends for years. You know how this works: Cheryl invites one of her sisters to go out with her and her friends, and the next thing you know, the friends are calling her sisters for a good time. I can't say I blame them... I've often said that had I met the sisters first, I would have made them fall in love with me instead. Oh well, that is all water under the bridge.
     So, Cheryl and Gracie were out hanging with what I affectionately referred to as their "girl posse," and Matthew was hanging out with I teasingly referred to as his "girl posse," and what was I left with?
     My. boy. Noah.
     Men... just hanging out... being men.
     What do men do, you ask? Men build fires. Big roaring fires in the fire pit.
     Okay, full disclosure... Noah brought me a Dura-Log and asked if we could hang out on the front patio. I am embarrassed to say, it took me thirty minutes to get the Dura-Log up and running.
     What else do men do? Men drink beer... while... while some men just get sips of beer. And after every sip, they make a goofy face because they really don't love the taste of beer and they wipe their mouths with their sleeves and they mutter, Mmmm... that's some good beer! in their best pirate voice.
     Okay, again, full disclosure... that was me making the goofy faces, wiping my mouth on my sleeve and muttering silly pirate quips.
     What else do men do besides sitting around the fire drinking beer? We have marshmallow roasting contests and video game contests (because everything is a competition), and we make fun of the other family members that had the audacity to go out and leave us on the front patio to fend for ourselves. I may not have been very good at starting the fire... I may not have been very good at drinking the beer... I may not have won the marshmallow roasting contest or the video game competition... but I was quite good at making fun of our absent family members.
     I cannot repeat what was said because, as I told Noah, What is said on the front patio... stays on the front patio! I can disclose, though, that there were at least a text or two to Matthew... who we affectionately dubbed Loverboy for the entire evening.
     I thought I had saved my best barbs for Cheryl, but apparently, Noah had other things on his mind. Instead of razzing his mom... as he had done with Matthew and Gracie... he thoughtfully mentioned that we had not gotten anything for her yet for Mother's Day. This was true; we hadn't. You know what else was true? It was a quarter past nine at night, and the only store I could think of that would be open was Home Depot. On a side note, there were other stores open, but we are men. And men go to Home Depot.
     Anyway, off to Home Depot we went.
     Upon entering, after savoring that pungent lumber smell for a moment or two, we set about finding Mom the perfect gift. Noah immediately spotted a pink sun hat that he knew his mother would love. I was not sold on the hat, but we agreed that Cheryl does indeed enjoy a good seaside coverup. She would dress like a mummy if she could get away with it. And it's about time for her to give her go-to pashmina/burka-look a rest. The hat went in the cart.
     I tried to convince Noah that Mom would like a new lawn mower... a big one with a 30-inch mowing deck, so Mom could mow the yard with ease. He was not convinced.
     Oh, but he thought that the deck furniture set looked nice. It comes with cushions and pillows!
     I noted that it was a little over budget, and in no way would it affect the amount of time it takes to mow the yard. Other than that, it was a great idea. Noah shrewdly pointed out that the deck furniture was actually less expensive than the mower... and... Dad, we all know, she will never mow the yard. Dang!
     We went with the deck furniture.
     But not just the deck furniture. While sitting on the front patio, we had earlier hatched a plan to prepare a delicious dinner for her. Deck furniture and a yummy meal under the stars! Yes, we would sit at at our new outdoor table, under the new big umbrella (sold separately, of course), and enjoy our Mother's Day feast.
     7 p.m. sharp!
     Unless, of course, the furniture needed assembling... which it did!
     Usually, whenever assembly is required, Cheryl reads through the instructions while I do the assembling. Mind you, it is not always in that order, but we seem to make it work. Because this was a surprise for Cheryl, I had to rely on Grace to read the instructions.
      Public Service Announcement: Don't ever rely on a seventeen-year-old girl in the midst of prom drama to read the directions. She will tend to be distracted. You're welcome.
      Noah, Loverboy, and I finally figured it out. It was quite a learning curve. The first chair took an hour to put together, and the next five took twenty-five minutes. I am proud to say... I never used the directions until about thirty minutes into it. Hey, wait a second... what if I had just... forget about that... all you need to know is that Noah insisted we eat off our new furniture... so dinner was at 9 p.m.
     Not to toot my own horn... but... it was worth the wait!
     I can't take all the credit because the kids chipped in, but... you know... if not for me... there would not be any kids to chip in so... yes... I can take all the credit. We had a great time dining at the new outdoor furniture, by a crackling outdoor fire.
     These are the best of times for me.
     I love when it's time to wrap up the evening, and all three kids insist they don't want to go because they are having such a good time just sitting around talking. That, or they don't really want to clean up. Either way, these are the best of times.
     So... who would have thought? Everyone goes out and leaves Noah and me to fend for ourselves... and we do nothing but plan a perfect night for us all to be together.
     Okay, we may have done a few other things, but I can't really go into all of the details... because we all know... what happens on the front patio... stays on the front patio!

Funny Guy Friday... Frankenstein? I don't think so...

     This past Sunday, our little gang attended the 8 a.m. (that is correct... a.m.) Mass.
     It is not unusual for me... and occasionally the boys... to hit the eight o'clocker. It is a bit unusual for Cheryl and Grace to join us, though. Cheryl... because she goes to adoration every Sunday at that same time... and Grace because... well... she, kinda sorta... likes to sleep.
     Except for the early start, I love the 8 o'clock Mass. It is all business. But, if you get there five minutes late, you miss the first two readings and part of the Gospel. If you're ten minutes late, forget about it, you might as well hit the 9:00 Mass down the road. The key is that there is no music to bog things down.
     Anyway, this past Sunday was special because both Noah and Matthew were serving on the altar. Matthew is a seasoned veteran altar server, and to be frank... it would not be a big deal for us to miss a Mass where he is on the altar. I mean he knows what he is doing, so we know that he is not going to be part of a disaster. It is not that we go to church looking for a NASCAR-type pile up on the altar... buuuut if that should happen, you want to be there for your boy.
     This was Noah's first time out and we weren't sure what misfortune might befall him.
     He was in charge of bell ringing and that is kind of a big deal. The way I understand it, if he rings the bell at the wrong time during the consecration, the bread remains bread and the wine remains wine. I'm pretty sure the power of the bells trumps the powers of the priest. I could be wrong about that... but I don't think so. Let's just say that there was a lot of pressure on the boy.
     I am happy to report: Noah was outstanding. However, he did have a few, teensy weensy, hardly noticeable hiccups. Being the keen-eyed observer that I am, I noticed. I would now like to take this opportunity to make those hiccups part of the public record.
     First, as the whole crew... priest, deacon, cross bearer, two acolytes, and another rookie first-timer... bowed and approached their assigned seats, Noah was caught like a deer in the headlights, frozen in his tracks. He had to hustle up there in a full out sprint.
     Second, he smiled too much.
     Third, when he wasn't smiling, he was yawning.
     Fourth, when he sat down, his feet did not touch the floor, so he sat up there swinging his feet. And finally, he scratched his face during prayer time. I told him we can remedy the scratching with a little training. I suggested that we make him stand with his hands folded and we could tickle him with a feather and slap him silly if he ever goes to scratch. Tough love, but God would understand.
     Because the boys had to be at the church early, Cheryl and I took separate cars. After Mass, as we left the church, all three kids jumped in my car. Why did they all drive with me, you ask?  I am the cool parent. As if! 'Nuf said. Holla! ( I am pretty sure those are all cool things to say).
     As we were leaving the parking lot, Grace was exasperated as she looked in the mirror. I assumed that she was frustrated by a bad hair day... forced upon her by the early wake-up call. As she huffed and puffed, she said the words that will be burned in my ears for the rest of my life.
     I got your worst traits and mom's worst traits!
     What are you talking about? 
     Look at my nose!
     Do you think it looks like my nose or mom's nose?
     It is your fat nose with mom's bump!
     What else do you have from me?
     Your bad vision, chubby cheeks and double chin, short height and less-than-perfect teeth. 
     Is that it? Anything else from me?
     No.
     What terrible traits did you get from Mom?  
     Her personality!
     Ouch!
     Not sure which is worse, being the "blind date guy"... short, ugly with a fat nose, bad vision, bad teeth, chubby cheeks with a double chin... but a good personality?... or the hot chick with the crummy personality. It's a coin flip!
     Well Grace, I feel bad for you... you are kind of like a female Frankenstein! Sorry about that. 
     I didn't mean anything bad by what I said, Dad.
     Oh, Sweetie... I don't see how anyone could possibly take what you said in a bad way. I am not upset... Maybe your crazy nut-job-of-a-mother won't be too happy if she ever hears about this conversation... but what are the chances of that happening? 
     I never said Mom was a "nut job." It's just that Mom is too nice... and I am just like her.
     So let me get this straight... you think Mom is too nice and you think that I am too short, have bad vision, bad teeth, chubby cheeks and a double chin!
     Exactly.
     Yeah, I don't see how anyone could possible be upset by those statements.    
     And this, ladies and gentleman, is what children do to parents. They take you to great heights, fill you with pride and joy, and then in the blink of an eye, they bring you right back down to earth. Heck, in this particular case, it would seem that Cheryl and I actually collaborated in creating a monster of sorts.
     Funny thing about it is that I know, and Gracie knows, that her mother has a great personality. There is no such thing as being too nice. And I'll be honest with you... I know that I out-kicked my coverage when I married Cheryl. She is way more beautiful than I am handsome. But at worst... I am slightly, and I mean ever so slightly, below-average looking. I am certain that we can all agree that I am hardly the hideous beast that my daughter described.
     Most importantly, I happen to think that Grace is a beautiful girl with a perfect personality... much like her mom's... and I have no idea what other "bad traits" of her own that she is talking about.
     Every Sunday, after I receive the Eucharist, I get back to my pew and say a prayer for my children. As part of that prayer, I ask God to look after their future spouses and to guide those unknown individuals in the right direction. Despite all of my faults, I think Grace would do alright to marry a guy just like her dear old, albeit malformed, dad. Similarly, our boys would be lucky to marry a woman as "nutty/nice" as Cheryl. God has been pretty good to us and I am hopeful that He will continue to answer my prayers.
     But, in order to hedge my bets, I will continue to send my boys up on the altar to serve. What could that hurt? In fact, I will send one of them up there walking... and the other one I will send up there in a full-out sprint.

Right... "Frankenstein."
Photo credit : Hannah Harger Photography

Funny Guy Friday... Matthew's Confirmation...

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
     I remember when I was confirmed as a boy. I remember it not because I was filled with the Holy Spirit... excited to embark on a new relationship with Jesus Christ. No. I remember it because I was rocking a new light blue, three piece suit with some sweet white, shiny, leather shoes.
     I looked good!
     I was thinking back to that day because Matthew was confirmed last night.
     The bishop, a very tall man with what appeared to be hands the size of oven mitts, came out from Washington D.C. to confirm my oldest son. While he was here, he confirmed a bunch of other kids too, but I'm pretty sure he was there mainly to confirm Matthew.
     The kids have been taking CCD classes for eight years in preparation for tonight's festivities. I am not really sure that anyone really knows what CCD stands for. I used to have a football coach that used to always yell at us that we had to have CCD!!! But I don't think that the Matthew and his gang were taking Courage, Confidence and Desire classes.
     Or maybe they were.
     Anyway, every Saturday morning (elementary classes) or Tuesday evening (middle school), Matthew would leave his basketball/baseball practices and head off to the church. When Matthew would have games on Tuesdays or Saturdays, it would spark some heated discussions between Cheryl and me.
     He should go to his CCD class... it is more important that he do that than play in some silly game.  There will be another game in two days.
     The games are not silly. You practice all week so you can play in the game. Imagine if you studied for a test you never took. Besides, there will be another CCD class next week, and the week after that, and the week after that. 
     He will set his priorities based on our priorities. He should go to CCD.
     He has made a commitment to his teammates. He should go to his game.
     Look Cheryl... he has made a commitment to the Lord. I am putting my foot down... he is not going to his game; he is going to CCD. That is that!
     Eventually, Cheryl came to see it my way!
     That's my story and I am sticking to it!
     If you have ever been to a Catholic confirmation Mass, you know that the Bishop asks the Confirmandi questions to give them a chance to demonstrate that they are, in fact, ready to be confirmed. I am not really sure what would happen if a kid blanked on one of the answers. I mean, if I were watching Matthew get confirmed and he failed to correctly answer Name one of the Seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit, and was then humiliatingly asked to leave the church... I would be bummed.
     Anyway, tonight was no different. The Bishop asked for volunteers... four boys and four girls to stand up and "take one for the team." The first kid to stand was a young man and then the girls rose in rapid succession. Then two more boys... but no Matthew. I whispered to Cheryl that Matthew was a coward.
     And then he stood up. Oh no, so did some other kid who was sitting in front of Matthew. So there were five boys standing and Matthew looked like one of the idiots that couldn't count to four.
     Neither boy relinquished his spot. I suppose I should have been proud, but then I thought that this was an unmitigated disaster. I whispered to Cheryl that sometimes being a coward is not a bad thing. Matthew should have just stayed down and played dead like he originally planned.
     The Bishop, a forgiving man, (I mean what would you expect from a Bishop) just ignored the whole number debacle and pressed on with his homily, insisting that five and four was just fine. In the course of his talk, he would ask a question, and if he called on you and you answered it correctly, you could sit down.
     I had flashbacks of law school.
     I hated law school and the whole Socratic teaching method. The only time I ever got an answer correct was when I said, I would like to pass! and my professor thought that I had said, it would affect the taxes!  
     I was nervous for Matthew.
     I was sure that he was going to be the last man standing and the Bishop would just keep firing question after question until he got one right. Then everyone in the church would get upset because they had to wait and wait and wait for Matthew to answer one correctly.
     Fortunately, the Bishop asked Matthew what each student would have spread across their forehead as they were confirmed and Matthew confidently choked out: Chrism! 
     Phew, glad that was over... I never had a doubt! 
     On a side note, you should have seen the amount of chrism this huge Bishop could spread all over a forehead with his generous hands.
     As the sacrament progressed, we came to the part of the Mass called the Prayer of the Faithful. Right before the Prayer of the Faithful, I saw our parish priest whisper to one of the altar servers, Go get Matthew!
     Wait, was chrism wrong? Were they going to go to the booth and look at a replay?
     The altar server went and accompanied Matthew to the altar, where he stepped up to the mike and flawlessly read the Prayer of the Faithful. Perfect pace... not too fast. Clearly spoken without a single  stumble. Perfect tone that everyone could hear. In fact, all of the readers did beautifully. I was impressed.
     Maybe CCD does stand for Courage, Confidence and Desire.
     One of the prayers that Matthew read was for those in our lives that have departed. This got me thinking about my father. I miss him, and although I am a fifty-year-old man, one of the things I miss the most about my dad is his telling me how proud he is of me and of my family. I thought to myself that at that very moment, my dad would have been proud of me, er uh... I mean Matthew. Don't tell Cheryl, but it brought tears to my eyes. I don't think she noticed.
     At that very moment, I decided that I would be sure to tell Matthew how proud I am of him. Not because he knew the answer to the Bishop's question or because of his flawless performance while reading the Prayer of the Faithful. Those things were great... but I am most proud of the young man he has become... and that he really does receive the Holy Spirit,,, and that he does have a relationship with Jesus Christ.
     I think that Matthew knows how I feel.
     I tease him a bunch, but I have told him, Whenever I tell you that you are a knucklehead... or that you may never... ever... get a date... just translate that into: I love you!  But just in case Matthew isn't sure how I feel, he can read this week's Funny Guy Friday.
     He may not know how to count to four... but I know he can read!

Funny Guy Friday... Top twenty-two...

    Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So... twenty-two years ago, I married a funny guy.  I knew what I was doing.
    Twenty-two years ago today, I married the most wonderful woman in the world.
    I knew she was the one for me before I ever even asked her out on a date. We dated only six weeks before I asked her to be my wife. I never had a doubt. She had no faults... she was smart... she was funny... she was clever... she was nice... and she was beautiful.
    She is still smart... she is still funny... she is still clever... she is still nice... and she is still beautiful.
    My beautiful wife just came downstairs and she was clearly irritated. Why? you ask...
    She was in the upstairs bathroom and was calling out for... ahem... how do I put this delicately?... toilet paper. Nobody heard her, so nobody responded. She yelled and yelled and finally stomped her feet on the bathroom floor. The stomping attracted the attention of Matthew, but he had no idea why she would carry on in such a way. It was not as if she was stomping out... I need toilet paper... in Morse code.
    Despite the fact that she had received not one, but two new rolls, she was still aggravated!
    How did you not hear me? I was yelling and screaming for toilet paper. 
    I was on the phone... Matthew was in the bathroom... Gracie was in the car waiting to go out to dinner... and Noah is 9. He has the attention span of a gnat!
    But I called and called several times. 
    We were not ignoring you, sweetie, we just did not hear you. 
    How could you not hear me?... I could hear you guys!
    Okay, Jaime Sommers, we all don't have bionic ears. 
    So to commemorate our 22nd anniversary on this very Friday, I give you the top 22 reasons that I love my wife...
    Number 22... Her super power is super hearing!
    Number 21... She gets all of my stupid obscure references... like Jaime Sommers.
    Number 20... She is the best editor in the world. Every week, she tells me things like "Jaime Sommers only had one bionic ear, so you should have said we all don't have a bionic ear instead of we all don't have bionic ears... oh yeah, and your tenses rarely, if ever, agree!"
    Number 19... As an editor, she gets final say in what I can and cannot write about in my FGF posts. She is pretty lenient, but she does have a few topics that I have to tread lightly around. They include my mother-in-law, Catholic priests and salty language... in no particular order.
    Number 18.. She actually agreed to marry me on our second date. I had her ring size and everything after eating ice cream at Friendly's in Crofton. We waited six weeks to make it official, you know, so  people wouldn't think that we were rushing into anything.
    Number 17... She says the same prayer almost every day before I leave in the morning, and she often thanks me for going off to work every day. I often wonder, what is she doing behind my back that she is so anxious that I am happy to leave every day?
    Number 16... I have never, ever, ever, ever, thought, for one second, that she would actually do anything behind my back.  
    Number 15... She has never, ever, ever, ever, thought, for one second, that I would actually do anything behind her back... which is nice because it makes it kind of easy for me to do stuff behind her back, hee hee!
    Number 14... She thinks I'm cute!
    Number 13... She is funny about money. She will worry aloud whether or not we have enough money to eat at the Green Turtle, yet in the very next breath she will tell me that we have to donate a couple hundred dollars to some worthy cause or to a friend in need.
    Number 12... She is devoted to her Catholic faith (another topic that I need to tread lightly around). Don't tell her this, but there are times when I question things about the Catholic church just to see her get all upset and irritated. Did I mention that she thinks I'm cute?
    Number 11... My mother likes Cheryl better than she likes me. That is when you know that she is a good daughter-in-law!
    Number 10... She absolutely loves baseball! Okay, she really, really likes baseball! Alright, she enjoys going to watch the boys play baseball... when it is nice and warm. I'll take that.
     Number 9... No matter what the circumstance, she stays upbeat and often utters that things could be worse and God has a plan! Now I must admit that I don't always appreciate her uttering these things as I am taking the car to the repair shop or paying to have the hot water heater replaced, but she is correct. I mean, I suppose the whole house could have been flooded and not just the basement.
     Number 8... She bundles up in a sweatshirt and covers herself with towels and a scarf over her head whenever we go to the beach and the temperature is below 95 degrees. She looks very Jackie-O-esque when she peers out from behind her scarf her big sunglasses. That is not the part I love... the part I love is that she puts sunblock all over herself before she goes out.
     Number 7... She always makes sure that she uses I and me, we and us and they and them correctly in a sentence. Now, she also can't stop herself from correcting anyone that doesn't... and that can get a little annoying. Go ahead, ask the kids who gets annoyed when she corrects us and they will point at me and answer... us and him! (I am curios to see if she will let this stay in here after she edits it).
     Number 6... She is a wonderful mother to...
     Number 5... Grace
     Number 4... Matthew, and...
     Number 3... Noah.
     Number 2... We have a great life together and I could not imagine sharing it with anybody but her... no matter what I might say about Angelina Jolie and Jennifer Aniston. On a side note, Brad Pitt is my hero!
      And the Number 1 reason I love my wife...
      I often say, Cheryl is the nicest person that God has ever put on this earth. Many people would agree and have told me that your wife is the most easy going person and she must be such a joy to be around everyday.  
     To this I say... she is... just as long as she has enough toilet paper!
     I love you, Cheryl.  Happy anniversary.

Funny Guy Friday... Give it up for Lent...

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
     We are coming to the end of Lent and I have to admit, I have not always been a big fan of the Lenten sacrifice. When I mention this to Cheryl, she explains Lent to me... we deprive ourselves for forty days and exercise self discipline, just as Jesus exercised self discipline for forty days in the wilderness. This brings us closer to God and makes us stronger in our faith. 
     I don't have the heart to tell her that I understand it... I am just not a big fan of it. More specifically, I am just not a big fan of it when it comes to me. I just don't see it working for me in my life.
     I was raised as a Lutheran.
     Frankly, if most Catholics were to be dropped down from outer space and plopped right in the middle of a Lutheran service (not a Mass), I would bet that that would think they were at a Catholic Mass... assuming, of course, that the pastor (not the priest) were a man and not a woman.
     Apparently, when Martin Luther wrote his Ninety-Five Theses, and addressed the Diet of Worms, he never waived his hands up in the air woofing and shouting, Let's give it up for Lent!
     By the way, are you impressed with my Martin Luther knowledge?  
     You should be. Of course, I am not exactly sure that I have the Theses thing and the Worm thing exactly correct, but I am in the ball park. I am just saying, don't use Funny Guy Friday as a research tool.  
     I'll take this moment to tell two "Lutheran" stories.
     The first occurred when I was attending Confirmation classes at the Lutheran church. We had a classmate that rarely attended, and when she did, she did not pay that much attention. Near the end of the year, the teacher asked us some basic questions of each student and gave her the softest of softball questions... Who was Martin Luther? 
     Martin Luther... was a guy... who was a church guy... who fought for civil rights in the 60's!
     No, that was King... Martin Luther King. King!
     Martin Luther was a king? 
     The second involved my brother Paul who is a Lutheran pastor (Mom always liked him best). When I made the decision to become Catholic, I thought it would be a good idea to go spend some time with my brother and see if he had any thoughts. On the five hour drive to Durham, I prepared for any and all questions that he might fire my way.
     We were out playing golf on the third hole, and I decided we would have fifteen more holes... and plenty of time... to hash things out.
     Hey, uh, I just, uh, wanted to let you know, uh, I have uh, decided to join the Catholic church.
     Have you told Mom and Dad?
     No, I thought I would run it up the ol' flag pole with you first.
     It's pretty much the same... Would you use a five iron from this distance? 
     That was it? I demanded a religion trade, and one of the coaches accommodated me with no questions asked?  I suppose... Have you told Mom and Dad? and Would you use a five iron from this distance? qualify as questions, but they were not what I had in mind.
     Anyway, back to Lenten sacrifices.
     It is not as if I don't have the willpower to give up stuff that I love. I can... and I do.
     One year, I gave up soda and did really well. In fact, I gave up drinking Dr. Pepper three Easters ago and never went back to it. Of course, this resulted in an addiction to sweet tea... the sweeter, the better... that had to be given up the following year.
     And therein lies one of my problems: if I give up something that is bad for me, should I really be  replacing it with something equally bad for me? For instance, is it right to give up Snickers bars but still gobble up every Baby Ruth that crosses my path?
     So, instead of giving things up, I try to make an effort to make myself a better person. For instance, I strive to be more patient and understanding of other people. To put myself in their shoes and see things from their perspective.
     The problem is that these "other people" don't always cooperate, and they end up irritating me. Perhaps "other people" could give up irritating me during Lent, and we would all be better for it.
     What I really need to do is commit my issues to prayer. Unfortunately, I don't really have a great prayer life.
     You  know, I just came up with a great idea. I could improve my prayer life by making a conscious decision to commit fifteen minutes a day to prayer. If I were to do this for say, oh, I don't know, about five or six weeks in a row, it would become part of my daily routine.
     But as for this Lent thing, I just am not sure it really works for me!
     Hey, wait a second... I see what just happened. Oh wow, this is a little embarrassing. If I do it right, this Lenten sacrifice will work for me. If I commit to something for forty days, it might just change my life and bring me closer to God. In fact, now that I think about it, I never drink Dr. Pepper or sweet tea anymore.
     Ignore what I just wrote... have a blessed Easter!