Category: Daily Life

Ramblings, often stream of conscious, journaling the events of my life.

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Getting ahead

Occasionally I play the lottery. Typically, I’ll buy a ticket then not look at it for several days after the numbers have been drawn. It’s Schrodinger’s lottery ticket. For those few days, I’m a millionaire! And the dreams are glorious.

On this occasion, I paid $2 for a MegaMillions ticket and I won $25. A smart man would have pocketed the money but I was having fun, so I spent $2 on another MegaMillions, $3 on a Powerball, and $20 on a scratch-off. The scratch-off was a $30 winner! (Now up, $28 dollars) Again, a smart man would take the money and run but I have never purchased a $30 scratch-off before so I decide to let it ride. I ask the man behind the counter, “How do those $30 tickets do?” He replies, “Once you get ahead, you stay ahead with those.” I buy one. He extends the ticket toward me and I grab one end while he continues to hold the other end, narrows his eyes, and speaks deliberately to me, “You ain’t ahead yet.”

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I am so loved

I am so loved by my family! And I so do not deserve it. They love me unconditionally. I have been weak recently. I have responded to my children and wife in anger this week. Each time was completely unnecessary. Stress is no excuse. Most recently we had a fire in the house. Amy burned a note her brother wrote a time ago. It had some ugliness in it she decided no one else should see so she burned it in a trash can filling the house with smoke. I was calm as I sought out the smell of fire. She was afraid and denied it being a fire. I said, “that is a fire” to which she replied, “no it is not a fire.” I was flabbergasted and lost my temper. I brought tears instead of taking the opportunity to teach. The fire was controlled. We could have observed it. Discussed it. But alas, I yelled. Words and shouts in anger are no different than using hands for hitting. I regrouped and asked that we open all the windows. Two remained closed and when I asked Amy to open them she back talked and my anger resurfaced. Oh teenage girls…so difficult.

I was just treated to an early Father’s Day. My family is terrific! I am so undeserving of their love. I vow to be a better father to them. A better provider. And a kinder soul. To my family, I love you!

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From the mouths of babes

Tommy: "You were typing on my keyboard the other night weren’t you?"

Me: “Yes, I just wanted to try it out. I’m thinking about buying one.”

Tommy: “The guys in my forum got a good laugh out of that.”

Me: “Oh, your monitors were off but your computer was still on wasn’t it?”

Tommy: “Yup. You typed your initials and part of your name. Then ‘This would be a good keyboard for programming.’ and some random characters. I told them ‘Oh, that was just my dad playing on the keyboard.’ They got a good laugh out of it.”

  1. I’ve become THAT dad.
  2. it is time to change that password.
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From the mouths of babes

Her: What do you want for dinner?
Him: *something* *something* *9 1/2 weeks* *inappropriate* *something*
Her: Help me!
Him: What?
Her, holding up iPhone: Somehow, I don’t know how, it recorded that.
Him, grabbing iPhone sees an audio message sent to…Granny.
Him bolts out front door to see Granny fidgeting with her phone.
Him opens door to car and grabs phone.
Granny: I’ve never received an audio message before.
Him: I think it recorded silence.
13 year old, giggling: I think Dad recorded something by accident.
Him: It was your mother and it had secrets. *delete*
Her: I deleted it but it just took a while.
Him: That deletes it off your phone, not hers!
Him: Awkward.

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Sunday night

I’ve reached that point in the evening where I acknowledge I’m too tired to program but could muster and go a few more hours. Or I could relax with a book. Or television with the wife. Or guitar on the porch while the storm rolls in. Or meditate. Or fret. Or clean the kitchen. Or clean my desk downstairs. Or plan. Or or or or…sleep.