Thursday, August 24, 2006
Thanks for the Comments
When I got home last night, The Wife left for her book swap thingy. Because she’s completely nuts when it comes to reading, she joined a group where they swap books. It’s basically a library, but they never have anything you want. On the bright side, there are no old men reading newspapers-on-sticks.
Anyway, we were out of a few essential food items, so I decided to take Luke over to Sam’s to do some shopping. I’ve discovered that I turn to Sam’s for everyday items now. It used to be that I’d go there and buy about $1000 worth of stuff that would take me 6 months to finish. Now I’m going there just to buy a gallon of milk. It helps that (a) Sam’s is 1.5 miles from my house and (b) milk at Sam’s is half as much as at the grocery store. And with Luke taking a real liking to milk, we go through a LOT of it now. The Wife and I both eat a lot of cereal, and of course we use skim milk (whereas Luke drinks whole milk). So at any given point in time, we could have 4 separate gallons of milk in our fridge. Plus a gallon of orange juice, which I like to have with my cereal in the morning. And this is why our fridge always looks like it exploded.
As I was checking out at Sam’s with my $15 worth of food, the checker told me something that I hear all the time. “Your son has the BLUEST eyes I’ve ever seen.” I never know how to respond to that. What’s funny is when people say that in front of both me and The Wife. Without fail, they then look at both of us to see where Luke got his blue eyes. Hmmm. I wonder if it’s from his blond-hair, blue-eyed mother or his brown-hair, brown-eyed father. Better take another look. (Actually, I have my dad to thank for Luke’s blue eyes.)
So Luke and I leave Sam’s and head out to my truck. I have Luke in the cargo hold of the cart, which is a major no-no, from what I understand. But since he wouldn’t sit in the seat and I wasn’t going to let him walk through the parking lot, I didn’t really have any other choice. (Note, he wouldn’t let me hold him. And now that he’s approaching 30 pounds(!), I didn’t much want to hold him either.)
Luke has really taken to helping out when we go shopping. He insisted on taking the grocery items out of the cart and putting them in the back of the truck. Note, it’s not enough to hand them to me (as it was a month ago). Now he has to put them on the tailgate and shove them into the truck as far as he can. This can be quite difficult to do when we go shopping at Sam’s because everything is so freaking huge.
After letting Luke help me unload the shopping cart, I helped him get in the truck. He then climbed into his car seat and tried to buckle himself in. He’s not very good at it, so I helped him out a little. (He didn’t appreciate the help much.) After I got him in and shut the door, I heard someone say, “Excuse me.” I turned around to find an old lady in a Cadillac parked in the space next to me. Right away, I’m thinking, “Crap, I hit her car with my truck door. Just what I need.”
She tells me, “You’re such a wonderful father.” Huh? Um, thanks. Boy, if I thought I was speechless when people compliment Luke’s eyes, I’d now become a virtual mute. It’s nice to know that someone thinks that about me, even if it’s a complete stranger. Of course, she doesn’t see me when we get home. That’s when I break out the whooping stick and beat the crap out of Luke. “You call this steak medium rare? It’s freaking medium! Now make another one and DO IT RIGHT!!!” That boy’s going to be a great cook some day….
Anyway, we were out of a few essential food items, so I decided to take Luke over to Sam’s to do some shopping. I’ve discovered that I turn to Sam’s for everyday items now. It used to be that I’d go there and buy about $1000 worth of stuff that would take me 6 months to finish. Now I’m going there just to buy a gallon of milk. It helps that (a) Sam’s is 1.5 miles from my house and (b) milk at Sam’s is half as much as at the grocery store. And with Luke taking a real liking to milk, we go through a LOT of it now. The Wife and I both eat a lot of cereal, and of course we use skim milk (whereas Luke drinks whole milk). So at any given point in time, we could have 4 separate gallons of milk in our fridge. Plus a gallon of orange juice, which I like to have with my cereal in the morning. And this is why our fridge always looks like it exploded.
As I was checking out at Sam’s with my $15 worth of food, the checker told me something that I hear all the time. “Your son has the BLUEST eyes I’ve ever seen.” I never know how to respond to that. What’s funny is when people say that in front of both me and The Wife. Without fail, they then look at both of us to see where Luke got his blue eyes. Hmmm. I wonder if it’s from his blond-hair, blue-eyed mother or his brown-hair, brown-eyed father. Better take another look. (Actually, I have my dad to thank for Luke’s blue eyes.)
So Luke and I leave Sam’s and head out to my truck. I have Luke in the cargo hold of the cart, which is a major no-no, from what I understand. But since he wouldn’t sit in the seat and I wasn’t going to let him walk through the parking lot, I didn’t really have any other choice. (Note, he wouldn’t let me hold him. And now that he’s approaching 30 pounds(!), I didn’t much want to hold him either.)
Luke has really taken to helping out when we go shopping. He insisted on taking the grocery items out of the cart and putting them in the back of the truck. Note, it’s not enough to hand them to me (as it was a month ago). Now he has to put them on the tailgate and shove them into the truck as far as he can. This can be quite difficult to do when we go shopping at Sam’s because everything is so freaking huge.
After letting Luke help me unload the shopping cart, I helped him get in the truck. He then climbed into his car seat and tried to buckle himself in. He’s not very good at it, so I helped him out a little. (He didn’t appreciate the help much.) After I got him in and shut the door, I heard someone say, “Excuse me.” I turned around to find an old lady in a Cadillac parked in the space next to me. Right away, I’m thinking, “Crap, I hit her car with my truck door. Just what I need.”
She tells me, “You’re such a wonderful father.” Huh? Um, thanks. Boy, if I thought I was speechless when people compliment Luke’s eyes, I’d now become a virtual mute. It’s nice to know that someone thinks that about me, even if it’s a complete stranger. Of course, she doesn’t see me when we get home. That’s when I break out the whooping stick and beat the crap out of Luke. “You call this steak medium rare? It’s freaking medium!
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You know, no one would ever say that to a woman about what a great mom she is, even if she were doing the same exact things! You are a great, wonderful, amazing father. But the world has low standards for you in this area - so you leap past them easily.
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