10 Years Ago I…
- had just moved boyfriend into my dungeon-like, one-bedroom apartment. Co-mingled kitchen appliances and engaged in pre-marital sex.
- didn’t have a college degree or even a decent way to put one to use. Er, legally, that is.
- wrote all my stories on PAPER!
- was employed in a job that taught me everything I DON’T want in a career. Office Space anyone?
- had a complicated relationship with my lone cat, Betty.
- provided the common meeting place for Friday night happy hour…and Disco Night…and…
- was still vehemently convinced that I would NOT be having children. When would I have time to buy shoes?
- had no clue how supremely awesome it would all work out.
Get out your lighters.
For Father’s Day, Steve got a veritable plethora of gifts: leather gloves, stainless water bottle, drill holster, bag of peanut butter chips, plaid shirt – because, you know, nothing says Happy Father’s Day like a bag of peanut butter chips. One of the random assortment of gifts of honor also included a Journey CD. The only thing missing from this list is a set of mini-screwdrivers. Oh wait. Nevermind, he got one of those too.
Not that I am a Journey expert or anything (that is the job of my muscle-shirt-wearin’-Trans-Am-drivin’ husband and brother-in-law), but I have heard those anthems enough times to recognize that something was different. Granted, it took me the better part of 4 songs to reach this conclusion. I off-handedly mentioned that this must have been one of those “digitally remastered collections”, at which point I was schooled on their new incarnation. Apparently they found a new lead singer that is a vocal dead-ringer for Steve Perry. It’s almost creepy.
We managed to catch Stella’s interpretive dance to Faithfully on video. Especially touching, is when she dedicates it to Steve for Father’s Day. I immediately tried calling dibs on it for my site, but Steve would have none of it. So we arm-wrestled. That didn’t work either. So, here it is over on his site. Go there at your own risk. If the kelly green doesn’t give you a blinding headache, then the contrasting yellow surely will. I can’t believe I am actually going to let this man have administrative permissions to my website.
Happy Baby Daddy Day
Today is the day that families around the world are supposed to worship thy father by giving him a day of leisure, pampering him with beer and meat flavored treats, and overall providing him with an opportunity to live life like he did before everything was hijacked by the chaos loving warmth of children. The reality of this holiday has been somewhat skewed by the Hallmark Corporation. Instead, Steve and I have both realized that this is an opportunity to reflect on all the aforementioned items listed. And, it has only taken us 4 years to figure this out.
This being the case, Porter is nursing some strange malady that had him throwing up all afternoon and evening Friday, graduating to some intestinal discomfort yesterday, and today is complaining that his mouth hurts. We are just pumping him full of ibuprofin and parking him in front of an endless stream of Pixar/Disney. Stella is, well, Stella – need I say more? Yes? Perhaps you should spend some time reading THIS ENTIRE WEBSITE. Let’s just say it would have been nice if Steve could have opened just one of his own Father’s Day presents. Just one.
In our eternally evolving parental wisdom, we have figured out that this day of honor and relaxation isn’t a single, pre-determined day, but rather a take-it-when-you-can-get-it hour or two here and there. Which is why I feel supremely proud that yesterday, Steve was able to find a quiet afternoon of tv watching and beer drinking while Stella and I spent the day in town and Porter took an extended nap.
So to my dear husband, all I can say is, you’re welcome, and Happy Father’s Day. Yesterday.
Go Crabs!
On Saturday we hooked up with the A’s and the B’s for the Humboldt Crab’s season opener. If you lean in really close, you should be able to smell the beer and peanuts on our breath.
