Goggle boy and the pool-side munchers

From an early age, Peter has always had a thing for goggles. Don't ask me why - like most weird quirks our kids have, I blame Angie. This time, though, I actually have proof. I thought it was funny that nobody else questioned why Peter was wearing goggles while we devoured burgers. Yeah, funny.

Today's agenda consisted of swimming, eating Play-Doh, and waiting on the steps for my dad to come home.


Notice the weird-ass skeleton behind the step-brothers. If you find it unusual, you've obviously never been to my dad's place. His house is a museum for the normal-challenged, which did explain why my children felt so at home.

The room behind them has been named 'The Quarterdeck Lounge' by my dad. It's also where I was working on a secret project for my dad's retirement party, so I kept yelling at the boys to stop scooching up the steps. They're crap with instructions, though - not to mention secrets.

George decided to come to my rescue by running up the stairs, hitting the lock button on the inside of the door, and then closing it. He then proudly explained that when we wanted to go back in, we just needed a screwdriver to turn the 'unlock' button.

'Ah, George? I don't see an unlock button.'

'Crap.'

For the next fifteen minutes, I heard muffled grumbling and door rattling as George sweated through his self-assigned mission to get the door back open.

When I finally heard the victorious click, George whipped around triumphantly.

'See, easy.'


'Yeah, that's great, George, but how about we just use normal threat tactics to keep the kids out of the room?'

At one point, Dad ran to the store to buy steaks and came back with a cow. I tried to explain that on a hungry day, our boys might eat half a steak between the three of them, but like Angie, he just ignored me.

'Cut 'em up, I'll fire up the grill.'

After a gluttonous dinner and another round of W.A.R. with the Commander in Chef, the boys were starting to crash. I was, too, but we were all stuttering in anticip-p-p-p-pation for Vena and Jerrell to show up. The retirement ceremony is tomorrow and in keeping with her unusual visiting tradition, Vena would only be staying for 24 hours. Odd, I know, but it did explain why some of the odder ones were so happy to see her. At least goggle-boy finally had retired his costume.

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Ladder Talk: [Tommy crashed early]
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When Vena come and I meet the Jay Rell.
David: At the pool, when Pop-pop he throw me in the water.
Tom: zzzzzzzzz

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When Davey threw the chair on my head!
David: When Patrick bonk me on the head with the sword.
Tom: zzzzzzzzz

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To go to Pop-pop's party.
David: To eat 500 bowls of cereal 'cause it is so yummy!
Tom: zzzzzzzzz

Cousinly Love

It's amazing how quickly weird kids bond with each other; it's like they can sniff bizarreness from a mile away and come racing in for a whiff of each other's peculiarity. It's been over two years since the last reunion of the oddballs, but it only took two minutes for the future nutcases to bond. It took another 2 seconds for their true colors to come shining through.

'Great! Lovely! Now let's get this freak show on the road!'

Speaking of, we couldn't find Angie, so I went back inside to try and find her. I heard strange grunting noises coming from the kitchen and walked in to find her hyperventilating into a bag. I raced over to see if she was okay, only to realize that Angie had her head shoved halfway down a bag of potato chips. I guess Mama likey American chips.

'Yo! Snack attack, pack up your feedbag and let's go!'

Whackos one through five kept with the whole 'normal and crazy theme' as we got ready to board the ferry.

'Ferry? What ferry?' you ask. Personally, I don't think you really care. I know I didn't. It was a boat and this was enough to entertain five normal-challenged kids. Does it really matter where we were going?

The Love Boat was way before David and Stephanie's time, but I guess nautical romance has no boundaries.

Cute, but in a weird way. I broke up lover boy and told him to go look for a boat built for ten. Instead, his fault-riddled mind instructed him to run his hand along a wooden railing that looked like it should have been replaced back when Angie still had bangs.

'Buddy, don't do that - you're just going to get a splinter.'

'No, you're the spinter, not me.'

'Okay, have fun.'

Luckily, Mama Tweezerhands is trained in treating pint-sized morons that don't listen to their incredibly wise and undeniably hot fathers.

I've been known to brag on occasion, but Angie took the cake when she gloated repeatedly - 'who got the splinter out of David's hand? Oh, that's right - I did.'


'Yeah, that's great and I congratulate you and your massive cranium on being able to pull out the pencil-size toothpick that had barely broken the surface. Bravo, mein Schatz! Bravo!'

Honesty can sometimes get you into trouble. But every now and then, if you're lucky, it can make crazy-mad-furious women scurry to the lower decks to fume as their more-than-fit hubbies bond with the weird class.


We docked and herded the odd ones down the street to a nice German restaurant that Christine had picked out.

'Um, Chris - you do know that we just came from Germany, right?'

'Yeah.'

Peculiar, but at least they served American beer, so I felt it was culturally balanced. Angie thought that she might have spotted a Marshalls and ran across the crowded street screaming like a madwoman. My wallet and I looked at each other in surprise. Had Angie really just disappeared to go shopping until the food comes?

Angie came back as the food was being served. The good news - it was not a Marshalls. My wallet and I breathed a collective sigh of relief. The expensive news - it was still a store that accepted cash and Angie had taken spending money.

Halfway through their first bite, the craziest three tried to impale themselves on metal spears. I, of course, grabbed my camera and raced off to shoot first and save later. Better get used to them bars.


After 'Three Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest' we grabbed some popcorn and settled in for part five of 'Puff, the Nutty-ass Dragon'.

On the way back to the Ferry, Mom bought us a round of coffees and we stood on the corner playing Charades. 'Cause that's normal, right? At one point, Peter asked if he could have a coffee. I shit you not; I laughed and chuckled the rest of the way back to the ferry. Thanks, Peter - good one.

At one point, Angie noticed that she was missing one of her earrings. I gave my most sympathetic 'shit happens' shrug, but apparently this is not the preferred reaction from husbands that give a damn.

'We need to go back!'

'Go back where?'

'Everywhere!!!! We need to find it!!'

'Uh, the boat's leaving in three minutes. Can you maybe narrow down the search any?'

Angie didn't exactly say that she hates me, but her eyes did. For about three minutes, I felt really bad that Angie had managed to lose an earring. After that, I was perched at the front of the boat putting Leonardo DiCaprio to shame. As he should be.

After anchoring at the home port, Angie took the new recruits for their first liberty call. My first port visit did not involve sitting on the dock of the bay, but I did not have my mom as the tour guide. I can safely say that we're both glad about that.


Angie is fascinated with seashells, so when she began frantically pointing and screaming 'LOOK!', Peter probably just assumed she was pointing out the 500th mollusk of the day. I tried getting a picture of Peter's reaction, but it only took a fraction of a second after getting a glimpse of what Mama was pointing at for Peter to run away screaming like a little girl. Damn, I need a faster camera.


'Peter, where are you going? Come on, it's just a jellyfish.'

'Aaaaaarrrrrggggghhhh!!!!!!!'

We caught up with Peter ten minutes later. Actually, I almost tripped over him, thinking 'Man, the homeless are getting younger and younger.'


I guess he was slightly out of breath after escaping from those 'evil jell-o fish that can jump out of the water and suck on my eye'. With that statement, Peter won the prize for being the least sane person. Not an easy win, trust me.

Shortly after, we headed back home to let schizoid-boy swim a victory lap in Dad's pool. The problem is, Peter cannot swim. Instead, he decided to jump in a raft with Tommy and squirt water into his face.


I tried to figure out where Peter gets his 'mean prank' gene, but I was too busy laughing my ass off. Don't worry, Tommy - you'll have your day.

Just when I thought things could not get more bizarre, my dad came home. It's amazing how quickly weird kids bond with strange grandfathers.


We (I) somehow managed to get the kids in bed. When we (I) came back down, we (I) found Angie, in the kitchen. With a bag of chips. Again. At least this time she was not inhaling cholesterol; she had the bag inverted and was gobbling down the last few crumbs.

'Hey! Here's my earring!'

Before I could even congratulate her, I sensed her regret in vocalizing the discovery. I'll lay out what I think her thought process was: Steve knows that I had my head in a bag of chips this morning > Steve's an ass > Steve knows I lost an earring today > Steve's an ass > Steve just caught me with the same bag of chips > Steve's an ass > Steve is probably going to put two and two together and write some embarrassing story about how I lost my earring this morning in a chip-eating frenzy that tasted sooooo good. At least my wife knows me well.
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Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: Patrick and the boat.
David: When Stephanie she laughed and she is so little.
Tom: When we go on the boat.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When you laugh at me over the jell-o fish.
David: When Oma go home.
Tom: When Peter shoot the water in my eye.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: Go swimming in the pool with Patrick and Stephanie.
David: To go to Oma.
Tom: To shoot Peter in the eye.

Bells & Duck Calls

My dad will be retiring from the Navy in four days, so I can completely understand that he needs to go into work; we were jet-lagged from hell anyway and could really use the extra sleep. Unfortunately, 'we' turned out to be Angie and me; the boys had somehow recovered after 4 hours of sleep and were ready to party. And Pop-Pop likes to boogie...

The party began at 5:45. Sorry - 0545 in the Foxtrot Alpha Mike for you military types. I raced downstairs to see who the hell was ringing something that sounded like a ship's bell and why. In doing so, I made two discoveries. And all this before the crack of dawn.

First, and least interesting to my ears - Peter is apparently a natural born bell ringer. I didn't know this because I am a sane parent that doesn't allow satanic noise-makers in the house. Knowing that parents are supposed to encourage their kids, though, I immediately started thinking about locking Quasimodo in a church tower so that he could further develop this newfound skill. Thanks, Padre.

The second discovery was that my dad is a complete ass. If I look back on my childhood, there were so many opportunities for me to come to this earth-shattering realization sooner, but it was not until I caught him sneaking out the door, giggling like a schoolboy.

'Have fun.'

As my brain tried digesting this latest discovery, I heard something from the living room that sounded like a duck call.

'Davey, what the hell do you think you're doing?'

'Pop-pop showed me. Listen, I'm a duck!'

A rhyming game popped into my head, but before I could vocalize my jingle, sleeping beauty walked in, asking why the world was so loud. I explained to Angie the concept of Karma and my recent revelation that my father is an ass.

'Oh, thanks for the news flash! I kinda knew that you got it from someone and hello - your Mom is too nice.'

'Shut up, woman - I'm nice!'

Luckily, the combination of bell ringing and duck calls made it completely impossible for me to understand Angie's next babble. I'm practiced in ignoring women, though. Instead, I suggested that we head to the river out back and look for real ducks.

'Oh, Davey, look - A TURTLE! How cool is that?'

'I don't see it.'

This went on for about an hour until David was close to tears. I suggested to Mama Nature that maybe she should stop irritating our sleep-deprived kids. Apparently, Frumpy could have used some more nappy time as well.

For the rest of the afternoon, we decided to go terrorize my Mom. It started with a nice childish interrogation.

'Hi, Oma. When are Patrick and Stephanie coming?'

'Well, Aunt Christine called and the traffic is really...'

'Are they here yet?'

'No, I just tried to explain that they are stuck...'

'Are they here yet?'

Eventually the boys got tired of testing my mom's patience and decided to go for her nerves instead.

'Look, Oma - no hands!'

'Uh, I normally don't let kids climb the tree. Can you come down now?'

'You want me to climb higher? Sure, no problem.'

'No, that's not what I...'

'Are they here yet?'

So, yeah - Chris and George were stuck in a mega traffic jam that meant we would have to wait another day for the Great Cousin Reunion. My ears weren't exactly devastated.

On the way back to my dad's, we stopped by the store to get cereal for what will hopefully be a quieter breakfast tomorrow morning. David was, well...hmmm, how do I put this...impressed...yeah, that's it - impressed with how many more types of cereal they have in America. Yeah, impressed.

Shortly after this lovely snapshot, David grabbed three boxes of cereal and took off running screaming 'you'll never catch me!'. I had the keys to the car, though, so I wasn't worried.

We caught up with the Cookie Crook on aisle 7. He was sitting on the floor with his stash - four Hershey's chocolate bars and a bag of powdered sugar. I asked him where the cereal was and he just laughed at me. Whatever.

When we got home, I realized that energy levels were high. I repeat - energy levels were high. I didn't earn the self-proclaimed nickname 'wise-ass Papa' for no reason. I immediately commanded the gooftards to go jump in the pool. Peter was the first one ready.

It's amazing how tired children get after swallowing a gallon of chlorine. If I were a business man, I'd sell sugarless chlorine gum to desperate parents. There's plenty of them out there.

As I was trying to get Tommy to drink his third glass of 'Papa's sleepy water', my dad came home and whisked the boys off to WAR. Gee, thanks, Dad!

My dad will be retiring from the Navy in four days, so I can completely understand that he needs to get his war-face on every chance he gets. I didn't understand why he had to jump up and ring the bell like a mad man every time he won a hand, but at least the kids loved it. I can't wait to be a granddad.

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Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: The pool.
David: The pool.
Tom: The pool.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I go under the water.
David: That I not see the turtle in the river.
Tom: That my popo hurts.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To see Patrick and Stephanie.
David: To see the turtle.
Tom: I want to eat cereal.