Victor? What? Are you sick? In a relationship? Out of a relationship? Genital Herpes?
For boogety sakes, no.
I peek, from time to time, to see how many actually read this damn blog, and I find - from history - more read when IT AIN'T ABOUT ME, than when it IS about me. So, fair warning, ha.
As happens every morning, the peepers open, I reach for my phone to see if fer sure I've gotten 8 hours sleep (nope, 7 this morning, eh, close enough).. I get up.. of course to go pee.. I laugh as I do, because I make all these noises that are accompanied by a 66 year old getting out of bed, and I walk like the old man Tim Conway as I go.
Coffee making. Local news on. Breakfast? Eh, lemme stew on it. I'm dieting, you see. I had oatmeal yesterday, don't want it today. I do have eggs left, none too eggciting, we'll see.
Out to get the morning paper, in my pajamas. I sleep in undies/t-shirt (SEE? Toldya personal).. and since it was daylight, I slapped on pajama bottoms. Our secret, when it's dark, I don't. I've yet to be confronted with headlights as I wisk out, and fear having "the big one" if I ever do. What a way to go though, laying in the front yard in one's undies, beloved KC Star tucked in arms.
Text message: Hey, can you take the kids to school this morning?
Sure.
I have 36 minutes. I don't want eggs. I put on shoes, coat, head to McDonalds. I look at the order board thingy, see that a Sausage Biscuit is 412 calories, and a Sausage McMuffin is 383. Blows my damn daily diet, but oh well. "Sausage Biscuit, Sausage McMuffin and a cuppa water please." OH HI! They recognize me from before I started my diet, as I usedta do this daily, then drive to the Sutherland parking lot to chow, read the paper.
I blitzed thru the Sport's page, Patriots win, this is a recording, boring. Move to the front section. Man killed in wreck on I-70.. 4 year old girl shot.. Geez... Trump to speak on unity in State of U speech.. Leavenworth Judge reduces 67 year old man's sentence for having sex with 13, 14, & 15 year old girls as he deemed "They were the online aggressor and accepted funds." I always forget if it's Hwy 5 or Hwy 45 that leads to Leavenworth, but if I remembered, I'd drive there now and give this Judge a piece of my mind. Seriously?
No good blog ideas, so off to pickup the grandkids (Kendal, 6, I think.. and Aubrie, 8, I'm sure.)
Text: Tell the little buttheads Grandpa is in the driveway.
Kendal comes running, hollering something about Aubrie. Huh? "She can't find her backpack." OK, but is she coming? "Yes."
She comes. I notice a warning light that Kendal's door was ajar. "Kendal, you need to open and close your door again, real hard, pretend you're a Power Ranger."..... "I'm not a Power Ranger."... (Mean Grandpa internally thought "Just shut the damn door please"...Kind, outward Grandpa eeked out, "I know, but pretend.") Door sufficiently shut.
"Hi Aubrie, how are you?"... "Good." Remembering how damn boring the Super Bowl was, and how damn boring "Good" is as an answer, I press on. "Good, as in a B+ or an A-?"... "What do you mean?".. "I mean, are you really good, an A-, or, just kinda good, a B+.".. "We don't have that." "Whattaya mean?".. "We have numbers, like 1 to 3.".. "So 1 is the best?".. "No, 3 is the best.".. Kendal pipes in "No, we have a 4." Older, much wiser Aub chimes in "No you don't. You have 1 to 3 just like us."
"So, are you feeling good like a 2 or a 3?"... "That's boring. School is boring." Like the Los Angeles Rams, I punted.
We've now driven 2 and 1/2 blocks and I hear Kendal "I can't buckle my seatbelt." (Grandpa fail.) Ok, pulled over, that taken care of. So, I turn and ask,
"Kendal, you little Power Ranger, what number are you?"
Before he could answer, Aub related "One time, he wanted to watch Power Rangers, and I wanted to watch SpongeBob, and grammy wouldn't let me watch SpongeBob." Against better judgment, I stuck up for my ex with "Well, just imagine Aubrie, someday you'll have two children, and one wants to watch Power Rangers, the other SpongeBob, and you've only got one TV. That's pretty tough on granny." "I'm not having children."
I laughed internally, then proposed, "OK, so, let's say one day Kendal has two kids, they come to your house, you're watching them because he's going to a baseball game... same thing, what do you do?" "I do like granny did, we couldn't watch either.. she had us look at what's on, then settle for something we both liked." (I HATE when she's [the ex] smarter than me, just kidding, I was impressed. I again laugh internally, then, pull into school to dump the buttheads [said lovingly]...
"KENDAL OTHER SIDE BY THE CURB!" (He seemingly enjoys dodging traffic.) All good, both out, he slams the door like a Power Ranger. Before it's shut, I holler out "I hope your day is a 3!".... No reply, grandpa is the very last thing on their mind. It's all good.
That's it, kids delivered, blog's over. THAT'S IT? Uh huh. Victor, don't be offended, but that was a 1.
No worries. I've seen ribbons handed out for 3rd place, trophies even, bronze medals too.
It's now formally 2 hours until I can trudge my fat belly to the Community Center to workout.
May your day be fun, not mundane, like mine.
Stickup for yourself, have a little spine.
When asked "Howya doing?" be creative, not a sap.
I'm outta here, time for a nap....
May your day be a 3,
By Henry Gibson III
Love, Victurd
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