Today’s Weird Thought

One thing I don’t think most people understand about me is my absolute revulsion to the idea of somebody “making it weird.”  Being weird is fine, even encouraged at times, but, for instance, if you want a hug, just ask, don’t “figure” some reason why I won’t hug you.

I get that people are just trying to protect themselves from rejection, but I’ve been there too, you know, so while I might say no, unless I have a reason to do that, I probably won’t.  (And if I do have a reason, don’t pester me about it; that’s also “making it weird.”)

I Figure It All Balances More Or Less

There are times that I’m more aware than others that I’m not the person my mom thinks I am.  I don’t say this disparagingly about Mom or me; it’s just a fact I’ve been aware of for most of my life.

My mother tends to see me as worse than I am in some ways, better than I am in others, and when she does that she’s generally not “wrong,” per se, just . . . late or early.  Sometimes she’s seen flaws in me that I most certainly did possess at one point, but that I long ago replaced with other flaws, and sometimes she seen virtues in me that I didn’t at that time possess, but that I managed (with difficulty) to cultivate at a later date.  She’s far from the only person who does this with me.

She’s just one of the best.

This Is Why You Should Be Careful What Stories You Tell

Yesterday I learned that when she was 13 my mother “borrowed” her Dad’s car and drove it around the block.

All her arguments about my behavior as a child are now invalid.

This Conversation Got Old Fast

As further proof that I’m currently hovering around a particular stress level, yesterday somebody made the mistake of trying to play the “Let me guess your age” game with me when I was just not in the mood:

Them:  “Why won’t you tell me your age?”

Me:  “Because I don’t dwell on my age.”  (But thinking Because, stranger, it’s none of your damn business!)

Them:  “I’m going to guess then.”

Me:  “You can guess if you want.”

Them:  “The starting digit . . . 2 or 3?”

Me:  (Thinking Nice try with the lowball there, but no cigar.)  “The starting digit was zero, just like everybody else’s.”

I’m Kidding!

After yesterday’s post, my Dad reached out to me with words of comfort, assuring me that in the end the efforts of parenthood bring great rewards.

I asked him to let me know when it starts being rewarding for him so I knew how long I had to wait . . .

My Current Catch-22

The challenge:  Teach my son to focus and how to maintain an even temper.

The difficulty:  Parenthood frequently makes it difficult for me to focus and/or to maintain an even temper.

This Insight I DID Get Introduced To In Time To Change The Course Of My Life Though

People like me we’re like . . . like shooting stars. We cross the sky, burning hot for one moment in time, then we . . . plunge to Earth and disappear. Jesus Christ, I’m starting to upset myself!

– Johnny Dangerously, Johnny Dangerously

That’s Why It’s Important To Watch Their Eyes, Son

While my son and I were playing with our dog this morning, she started to get rambunctious, so we ended up singing, “Crazy eyes, crazy eyes!  It should come as no surprise, that you are feeling wild, ’cause we see your crazy eyes!” (I have just come to accept that this is “normal” in this house.)

It was only later that it occurred to me that if someone had taught me to look for crazy eyes when I was my son’s age, my life would have turned out very differently . . .

There Are Also Other Reasons

I’ve found myself wondering why I’m so easily distracted lately . . . . then I remembered that it’s Spring, that season where a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of trying to breathe!

A Translated Transcript Of My Blurry Thoughts This Morning

I feel awful this morning!  No, I feel worse than that, I feel . . . full spectrum awful!

. . .

As much as I enjoy patting myself on the back for my own cleverness, I really hope I’m not the first person to use that turn of phrase, because that’s just not a concept I want to be responsible for introducing into the universe . . .