Soccer Masterpiece

I finally have an excuse for not blogging as much: school. School whether it be volunteering at the boys school or more importantly my own higher education. School is consuming most of my life right now. Sure I work, have a family, my boys, my beautiful bride, soccer, and scouts but school is the center of my universe. So when I have time to blog, my idea maker is too full of business management, science and (shudder) macroeconomics to be (or attempt to be) witty in a blog post. I really do hope to sit down in some spare time to write more but I cannot promise anything.

Tonight I was inspired to write, not because of laundry or Lego’s but my muse Connor had another Connorism that I had to share. Connor has never really been into sports. Sure he goes to football games and baseball games but he is bored fast. Finally this year I took him to a Jazz game and he loved it. Took him to a RSL game and he loved it. He’s tried to play basketball before (he used the wristbands as a communicator to call Buzz Light-year and Star Command) and T-ball (he was the kid picking grass and chasing butterflies) but he didn’t enjoy it. For some reason this fall he really started to get into soccer. He wanted to watch it on TV, wanted to play it, started an infatuation with Manchester United and it’s great because he is finding himself in something he loves. Not what I like, not what his older brother likes but something that is all him. He looks the part already:

 

Headband, check. Long flowing hair, check. He wants to be a goalie all the time and enjoys it. His only issue is long desire to pass the ball every time he gets the ball. No matter the situation he always wants to pass. That changed tonight for some reason. A switch went off. He was charging the ball. Bumping other kids off the dribble. He had two breakaways and barely missed both times. He was a boy possessed. IT WAS AWESOME! He may not be the best ever on his team but who cares. He is loving something that is HIM! We couldn’t be prouder.

All of this brings me to tonight’s Connorism. On the way home we were talking about the game. I told him to be proud that he played the whole game and it was ok to be tired since his whole team played the whole game, due to being shorthanded. He asked if he needed to take his cleats off before he went to his room. Yes was the answer. Should he take his socks off downstairs? No those take off in his room, I replied. His answer: “Papa you just want my socks off upstairs so you don’t have to smell the masterpiece stink of my soccer socks.” While I was laughing, it suddenly came to me that he was absolutely correct. Masterpiece would not have been the adjective that I used to describe them but hey, to each his own. What is it about boy’s feet that make them smell like a garbage dumpster filled with fish that has been set on fire (I’ll pause here to let that narrative sink in)? I don’t have girls, and thanks to science I never will, so I don’t know if their feet smell just as bad at this age. I know mine did (and if you ask Mandy, she’ll say they still do) at their age. If my brothers and I were half as bad back then, I apologize to my mother.

Pantaloons

When I started the idea of this blog it was mainly to talk about the wonderful (and not so wonderful) treasures that would appear in the washer and dryer after doing the boy’s laundry. There were always candy wrappers, Legos, marbles, rocks, Legos, Nerf rockets, Legos, and coins (and Legos). However, as they are getting older the supply of material for a blog based on laundry has been less and less. Thankfully, I have Connor to give his words of wisdom and they still have approximately 2.78 million Lego bricks that I can bemoan about. It would be nice if I could get this blog back to its roots. Back to where it all began, with laundry stories. Well, this last week I have two clothes related stories that have nothing to do with the boys but with Mandy’s third child, me.

Monday started out innocently enough. I woke up, showered, shaved, got dressed, sauntered downstairs, made coffee, sat down to start homework and that is when the morning took a slight detour. I have stomach issues. Like IBS and Lactose intolerant type issues. When I don’t eat right (which is never) or when I’m stressed (which is about 94% of the time) the problem is exasperated. My lovely wife, who is into Doterra, purchased for me some gel pills to help with digestive issues. I usually take one every morning and they really do work, however they smell and taste castor oil mixed with clove candy (ponder that for a moment, I’ll wait). Some ingredients are ginger root, peppermint plant, caraway seed oil, coriander seed oil, anise seed oil, and fennel seed oil. Sounds delicious doesn’t it? Well, I had one in my pocket, sat down to do some homework, when it burst in my pocket. Only I didn’t realize it had burst until right before I was to leave for work. At this point it’s too late to iron new pants, I just rolled with it. I was five minutes from my first appointment (with a factory rep with me) when I fully grasped how bad those damn pills stink. I went through two sales calls when I made the decision to go buy some more pants (this pair was about to replaced anyway so I thought what the hell). After a 25 minute search through the pant section at Costco (don’t judge they have really nice slacks at a decent price) I finally found my size, nope still only a 32” inseam. Ok after 30 minutes I found a 34” inseam. Home to iron them, old slacks in the garbage, back to work. Whew, no one noticed. 

That was Monday but Wednesday’s adventure was just as fun. Again, Wednesday started great. Had some great sales calls, took a customer to lunch at Popeye’s (wayyyyyyyyy better than Chick Fila and KFC. Red beans and rice, nough said), and then onto Alex’s Jr Jazz game. There was a bad accident on the freeway that day so the decision was made to just meet at the game. I needed dinner first so onto Wendy’s for dinner. Ordered my burger, fries and iced tea and pulled on through to pay. Handed the guy my card, he hands my back my card, then my ice tea and then the lid popped off and he dumped an entire 22oz iced tea in my lap. Yes, an ENTIRE 22OZ ICED TEA IN MY LAP! Did I mention the freeway was closed and it was 20 minutes to game time and these were the games for the championship? After exhausting my expletives file I drove across the street to Target to purchase some new jeans and undergarments (yes it was that wet). First I’d better eat so my food doesn’t get cold, too late. The burger and fries were as cold as my lap was. After some more expletives and an Eyeore movement of why bother, I ventured into Target for some new jeans. Nuts, I parked on the food side not the clothing side. So I undertook the walk of shame across the store to the men’s section for new pants. Is it too much to ask stores to stock some 34” inseams? The world is overrun with short people I tell you. Finally found some in a waist size too big but the right length, and I was off to the rec center. After a quick change of pants in the gym bathroom, I was able to make to the game just in time for tip off.  

Happy to report that Alex’s team won both of their games and took first place in their age group for their region.

The rest of the week went without incident. I was able to go shooting in the west desert without getting any pants ruined. I was able to start on Pinewood derby cars without ruining jeans or losing a digit (or my sanity. I was able to buy a new tool.) Looking back it wasn’t the end of the world I had to buy two new pairs of pants. In fact looking back, I feel bad for the kid at Wendy’s. I didn’t yell at him but I did let loose with a string of curses that would make even Andrew Dice Clay stop in his tracks. It’s not like he spilled the ice tea on purpose (or maybe he did. My beard can elicit all sort of different emotions in people). Oh well, if these two incidents are the worst things that could have happened this week, I made out ok.

Night Air

Connor is his own person. Always has been and I hope he always will be. I would love to be inside his mind when he speaks. To see what his eyes see in this world. The innocence and pure unadulterated enthusiasm that he exuberates almost daily. I can be having the worst day and he can turn my day around in an instant (of course there are the days when it’s can go the other direction but let’s stay positive. It’s Sunday morning and I’m only one cup of coffee into this thing). One such instance was a couple of months ago but as I was reading over my notes trying to decide what to write about, this quote stuck out to me.

Mandy has always wanted a sunroof for any of the cars she has driven but we have never been able to swing getting that option for her. So when we shopping for a new vehicle for her in October, that was one of the prerequisites for the vehicle. AWD, check; A/C, check; backup cam, not necessary but check; power sunroof, check and sold.

Editor’s side note: what is the difference between a moon-roof and a sunroof? At the dealer I made the comment of her wanting a sunroof and the smarmy little salesmen said it had a moon-roof. “Really I replied, what’s the difference?” His blank stare and sudden silence made my day. I looked up online and even there are different explanations. From this day forward, they are all sunroofs unless someone can successfully explain the difference.

So back to the story. It was a crisp fall evening (remember school, busy life, just catching up on blogging) as we were coming home from shopping, dinner, scouts, it doesn’t matter we were just coming home. We get off the freeway and turn onto the frontage road and Connor asks, “Can we roll the windows down and open the sunroof?” Sure why not. We drive for a minute or two in silence when from the backseat comes a content sigh and Connor proclaiming, “I don’t like the day air. I like the night air. Ahhhhhh fresh night air.”

Like I said, no matter what kind of day we are having, his little comments like that can stand your attitude on your head. I don’t remember the day I was having but I remember we had been riding in silence, not talking, everyone just tired and wanting to get home. When he had that “sigh” and started enjoying the night air, there was still silence in the car but instead of “on edge” silence, we all sat in silence and enjoyed the night air coming through the sunroof.

 

 

 

 

NOT A MOON ROOF!

UPDATE

Life Changing Updates and a New Year’s Resolution

I sit here Saturday morning looking out my back window, watching the wind toss the trees around, listening to the birds that are singing, and sipping my coffee when it hits me: I can take a morning off from homework to update the blog. No entry since October and there is a very valid reason for that. I am a college student again and that has come at the expense of many extracurricular activities. Why go back to school at the age of 37? Simply put, I wanted to and as a family, we were in a place financially and time wise that I could (should) go and get that degree. I want this degree to have a sense of accomplishment. I have stopped and started three times now. How can I force home the idea of a college degree and its importance to my boys, when I don’t have one or I wasn’t willing to finish to get one? So as a break from school, I have committed myself to escape and write once a week to clear my head and give some updates to those of you who care (all like three of you).

First some quick updates. We’ve had three birthdays, three holidays, three strep throats, one diagnosis of said throat (Connor) needing tonsils out, one partial torn rotator cuff (me),dozens of new Legos, one son is playing basketball, the other has started piano lessons, I grew a beard, and now I own my first bathrobe (one person will get that joke and as always I write for my own amusement not yours).

No small animals were harmed in the growing of that mess of a beard.

 I have come to the realization that I might need to change the name of the blog. The boys don’t leave stuff in their pockets anymore. Well ok, Connor still leaves candy wrappers and the occasional Lego head in the pockets, but nothing like rocks or sticky hands. The well has gone dry. I do however have list of Connorisms and dozens (and dozens) of Lego pictures (and their corresponding cusswords) to write about. So fear not we will prevail (wow three months off and I’ve become melodramatic, Sigh).

Now on to the meat of my post today. I, for the first time in years have finally come up with a New Year’s Resolution that I believe will improve mankind and grammar for everyone. For years now, I have become that person that most people hate. I have become a grammar cop. Yes, I know it’s horrible. No one likes that person. I hate that I have become that person but society has forced me into it. If I hear, “I seen” one more time I am likely to crack and someone will say, “I seen Andrew the other day, openin’ up a can ole whupass on someone the utter day (yes utter is supposed to be there. Think about it).” I am here declare war on bad grammar. I am not perfect when it comes to grammar, I am from Utah after all. I say mountin, creek (rhymes with stick), and I am not ok with it. Although pecan is pee-can, not pa-can. Anyway I digress.

The first war in the grammar battle is the word “for”. For a while now I have noticed that “for” has devolved into “fer” and I am a not immune from this. I am saying it more and more and I hate myself for it. Even as I just typed that last for, I am thinking fer. So, my resolution this year is to use for in it’s proper enunciation. Stand up my brothers and sisters, take back our grammar back one word, one phrase at a time. We will not sink to cesspool that is fer, I seen, supposedbly, and the ever dreaded ain’t. Don’t use fer, don’t even think fer, stand up for those of us who want to use for in it’s proper glory. If you hear me use fer, please bring it my attention. Fer I will strive to do better in this endeavor and eradicate fer in 2015. If have a grammar phrase that you want eradicated, let me know and all we can all work on them together. WHO’S WITH ME!