Wrong on So Many Levels

Why is there popcorn on the floor of the men's bathroom stall at work? What pig is eating popcorn while they're sitting on (or standing in front of ) the toilet?

You're eating popcorn while you're going to the bathroom???

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???

Another Lesson in Life

It's pouring rain outside; pouring harder than I have seen it in quite some time. And I'm thinking of Sam.

Sam is on a field trip today and a field trip is far from his favorite thing to do.

Sam's a worrier. He worries about people getting hurt. He worries about people's feelings. He worries about doing the right thing. If there is something to worry about, Sam will find it.

Sam also likes routine. He needs to know what to expect and he is not comfortable with change... pretty much like anyone, except more obsessive. When there is change, he worries about it.

So there is this field trip and he worries about getting lost. He worries about the long ride. He worries about getting back late and having time to do the things he wants to do.

I've done the best I can to prepare him, starting when the trip was mentioned in the papers sent home. Little by little, we've talked about the trip and his worries and how it would affect his day. He's voiced all the concerns he's able or willing to, some more than once and some, I'm sure, not at all.

I've tried to give him encouragement and support, while being truthful and be positive about it.

And as of last night, he finally seemed to be ok with the idea of going on this field trip, at least willing to give it a try.

We went for a ride and talked a bit more and when we were done talking, he was quiet for a minute or two. Then, with that tense, uncomfortable expression on his face, he added, " I just hope it doesn't rain."

...

Update: Sam got back from his trip and said he had a great time.

Monday

6:40 AM- Arrive at my office. Met by a Manager who is screaming at me about all the problems "in this place". Listened to the litany for 15 minutes. Don't even have my jacket off yet.

7:10 AM- Wrong material is shipped for a job that is already late. Supplier promises it to me "right away". (Never shows up).

7:15 AM- Customer calls saying I have given him the wrong information. (Turns out, after much digging, it's his mistake).

Day goes down hill from here.

Been at work barely a half hour. Some days it doesn't pay to get up.

Random Notes From the Past

 from June 19th, 1996:

"Yesterday I called home from work. It seems that Jake had caught a toad and he had been playing with it for the better part of the day. When he went to let it go, he accidentally stepped on it, and it died. He was heartbroken. All the kids were upset. They gave the toad a little funeral, burying him by the back steps and putting flowers on his grave. Rachael went to be by herself on the swings and started to cry. Her Mom asked her if she was all right. Rachael said she just needed to be alone.

Jake was sobbing almost uncontrollably when I talked to him, saying, “M-M-My toad got k-killed. I s-stepped on him by mistake (sob). H-H-He w-was just s-starting to s-stick out his tongue (sob).”

I told him how sorry I was to hear it; that I knew he felt bad; that I knew it was an accident. I listened to him for a little while, and felt terrible.

By the time I came home, everyone seemed to have calmed down. Jake mentioned the toad again, but that was about it. Later that night, when I tucked him in and gave him a kiss, Jake said quietly to me, “I miss my toady."  I said “I know you do honey. I’m sorry he’s gone.” I patted him a few minutes and told him I loved him. He closed his eyes and rolled over.

I went to say goodnight to the girls. After kissing Rachael, I went over and sat on the edge of  Helaina’s bed. Helaina sat up and fidgeted a minute. Pulling herself against me, she said, “Daddy, you know what I might want to tell you when I get older?” I put my arm around her. “No honey, what?” “Well, when I get older, I might want to tell you that I’m scared of dying.” And she started to cry. I held her and talked with her and listened for a while, doing my best to comfort her. Finally, I kissed her goodnight and as I left, I  told the girls that I loved them both very much, and that I would peek at them later.

During the night, Jake awoke with a bad dream. I rubbed his back for a while. He couldn’t say what it was about, but I can guess. He ended up coming into bed with me, clutching his Goodnight Moon Bunny and his blankey. I rubbed his back as we both went to sleep."

How Many Fish Sticks Do You Want?

It's pretty pathetic when I can make dinner for the whole house using nothing but the toaster oven.

Those Damn Kids Must Have Been Early

Why are there empty bags of Halloween candy in the trash and it's not Halloween yet?

Sometimes, It's Better

I wish I was creative enough to be able to write about some of the simpler and more meaningful things in my life without sounding both overly sentimental and outright boring. (And actually, I guess the "boring" part applies pretty much across the board).

With three of the four kids away at school, it gets awful quiet around here; quiet at least, in the kind of background activity I like.

Last weekend I celebrated a birthday. All the kids were home for a couple of days and we went apple picking together on Saturday. It was a great time: beautiful weather, out in the country, doing something special together.

For me the best gift came after.

I was in the kitchen making apple pancakes for the kids for dinner. While I'm pealing apples, Jake and Sam are in the other room playing together. Helaina and Rachael had decided to go through some bags that were in the attic and I could hear their laughter and talk from upstairs. It was a chance to be home together. That was my real gift.

Later the next day, I got to go on a walk through the woods with Jake before I brought him back to college.

Yesterday, I drove down to UMass hoping to see Jake march to the stadium, but I was too late. I went back home wondering how he was doing. I knew he was having a busy and emotional day, and I didn't want to bother him by calling. I figured I would give him some space and hopefully catch him later in the week.

Last night, Jake called me. I could tell from his voice he was drained. And, when I asked, he said, "Yeah, a little", which is unusual for Jake. We talked for a few minutes. I told him that I missed him earlier and he said he had looked for me, which caught me by surprise. I suggested that I pick up him up and we walk around the mall for a bit. I was surprised again when he said it sounded like a good idea.

So I drove down, picked him up, and we walked around the mall with a few of his friends trailing behind. We talked a little about his day and talked a little about his plans. But mostly, it was the kind of small talk people share when they are interrupting the silence of just spending time together.

All the Ingredients

Grocery shopping with Sam: 
1 box of Ice Cream Sandwiches
2 Bottles of Apple Juice
1 Bag of Pretzel Sticks
1 Hotwheel
2 Bakugan toys on clearance

We're all set.

Pass the Popcorn!

Thank God I took today off. Otherwise, I might have missed the Rachael Ray Show which is now blaring on the TV behind me.

I'm told that after the commercial break, we're going to see Julie's "new look".

Yes!

In my heart, I am applauding as wildly as the women in the audience.

I think it is time to let Sam go on the computer and save him from this. I will throw myself on the grenade.

It's All About Customer Service.

I was in Stop and Shop the other day, third person in the "Express" line. Apparently I have a misunderstanding of what they mean by "express". I thought they meant "fast". What they really mean is that the cashier, in this case "Tracy", gets to express herself to every customer that slowly makes it through the line (which, by the way, was rapidly increasing behind me).

By the time I realized there was a potential problem, it was too late. I had already dumped my items onto the conveyor belt and I was now trapped by the people getting in line behind me.

"Front of the Line Person" decides that she wants to pay for her items as three separate transactions. "No problem!" says Tracy. She's here to help! The first transaction comes to $10.19 and FLP hands Helpful Tracy a twenty dollar bill. Helpful Tracy asks, "Do you have 19 cents? That way I can give you back a ten." FLP fishes in her mini suitcase for about three minutes for ANY sign of change. Helpful Tracy is blathering on in an obvious attempt to make a new friend by displaying her skill at Customer Service.

FINALLY, FLP tells Helpful Tracy not to worry about it; to just give her the change. But Helpful Tracy will have none of that! Keep looking, we've got time!

Another two minutes goes by as FLP continues to fish around in the "purse" eventually producing a small handful of change. She holds it out for Helpful Tracy's approval. Both of them smile at each other. I think they're in love. Between the two of them, it takes another minute and a half to figure out which of the coins add up to the elusive nineteen cents. They're laughing at all their silliness. What great fun!

After this pathetic ordeal, the register eventually spits out a receipt and, barely catching a breath, Helpful Tracy  again springs into action. She explains the entire receipt to FLP who is listening with that same rapt attention that a kid does when they're read a bedtime story. (Note to Helpful Tracy: You've got the Gas Points wrong! It takes one hundred points to get one dime off per gallon of gas! Read the explanation at the bottom of the receipt! IT'S ALL RIGHT THERE!!!).

This scene plays out almost word for word throughout FLP's next two transactions: the fishing for change, the blathering on, the explanation of the receipt (including the misinformation of the gas points), everything! What's going on here? Does Helpful Tracy have some kind of problem? Does she not realize that this is the exact same person she has been waiting on for the last thirteen minutes?

Eventually, Front of the Line Person pushes her cart away, smiling sweetly. She moves on with her "life" having been fully immersed in the Customer Service Experience. I'm hoping I can move on with my life too.

Next up, it's Over the Limit Lady's turn. OLL had been getting just as impatient as me. But OLL knew she was over the limit and so, wisely, refused to to make eye contact with me. Too bad too, because while Helpful Tracy was basting FLP in Customer Service, I had been honing my look of utter contempt, ready to direct it at Over the Limit Lady for her breach of the twelve item rule. I was ready for the eye contact.

I waited for Over the Limit Lady to turn and look at me in a vain attempt to bond over this mess. But I wasn't going to go along with it. Instead, I used my time to rehearse my routine: when Over the Limit Lady would attempt to bond, I would glare at Over the Limit Lady for a split second. Then I would divert my eyes and glare at her groceries before finally retuning my glare back at her. It would be Ice Cold. I would shake my head and frown to emphasize my displeasure.

But the eye contact never came. OLL outsmarted me, and it only served to increase my building rage.

Over the Limit Lady was now making friends with Helpful Tracy. OLL breaks the ice by joking about how she has twenty-three items when the limit is twelve, and "I hope you don't arrest me". Ha-ha! Helpful Tracy laughs. They both agree this is very funny. I'm scanning the other registers for the Manager. Helpful Tracy counts the items and sure enough, there's twenty-three! No Problem! (Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out how Helpful Tracy can count to twenty-three but has trouble making nineteen cents in change.)

This becomes another bonding experience when Helpful Tracy once again displays her vast grocery knowledge for each item she is ringing up. She has Over the Limit Lady hanging on every word.

"This is ridiculous", I think to myself. "What do I do here? What's my plan?" I'm next in line, but this is meaningless. Do I make something up? Do I say, "Oh, I forgot the soup!", leave my stuff, and then bolt down an aisle and out the exit? "I'll be seen", I think, "Maybe I know someone here and I will somehow be held responsible for holding things up even further."  I'm starting to sweat.

I tough it out and decide I will punish Helpful Tracy when it's my turn. I will refuse to smile at Helpful Tracy . "Tough love", I think to myself. "She deserves nothing less."

Finally, Helpful Tracy is up to the receipt review. "...and you just earned forty-nine Gas Points!", says Helpful Tracy. "Gas Points?" asks Over the Limit Lady, "What are those?" "It means you get forty-nine cents off a gallon of gas!" says Helpful Tracy. NO. IT. DOES. NOT. READ. THE. DAMN. RECEIPT!!!!!

Over the Limit Lady strolls away. I take comfort in the fact that she will be getting screwed the next time she gets gas. Let's see how funny twenty-three items is when that happens.

Finally, FINALLY, it is my turn. Helpful Tracy tries weaving her magic, but it is not working on me. She talks about my groceries. She talks about her life. I don't respond. She is not my friend. She has ruined any chance of friendship. Oblivious to my subliminal message of hatred, she reads my receipt. "Do you know how to use the Gas Points?" she asks. "Yes", I say, "I just used them this morning".  This does not stop her from spewing her misinformation.

Fuming, I finally am able to leave her Aisle of Oblivion. I exit the store to freedom, but as I reach the car, it hits me. I really did forget the soup.