Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Rapunzel and The Morning Come Apart

     All of what follows is true.  The names have not been changed.  Our only hope here at the home office in Mount Olive, Alabama, is that someone can learn from the following events.  In the life of a family, children are supported by two separate but equal groups...Moms and Dads, and each have different ways of communication, discipline, support, motivation, etc.  The main idea is to come to some sort of happy medium between the two care givers.  This story has nothing at all to do with any of that.  This story could make a grown man scream and cry, and it almost did.  This is one morning in the life of a regular dad, and all I can say is "Be afraid, be very afraid."  The best way to describe what is about to be re-told is a quote from my wife and son.  Jesse told his mother the other night, "Mom, we're studying idioms at school."  My bride then told my first born and heir to my kingdom, "Take a picture of your father and take it to school."  The idiom speaks.
     The morning began with the alarm clock at 0500 hrs., and Saint PerryDawg (me) hit the floor running.  Running to make coffee.  My wife had to leave bright and early for delivery of goods to some consignment sale deal and a meeting at work.  I sat in my La-Z-Boy for a few minutes drinking my coffee while watching a documentary about Sam Peckinpah on the Western channel.  This joy was not long for this world, and I decided to attack the day.  Shave, shower, get dressed, and begin laundry was the first order of business.  Then on to studying a map of Europe for a Map Quiz on Friday.  My daughter woke while I was reading a little bit of Roman History that had a Spartan slant, I was disappointed.  I prepared breakfast for Maddie, and got her settled watching her morning television programming.  I noticed that the sink was full of dishes, and started to wash the dishes.  The first dish I tried to put into the dishwasher was repelled by the presence of clean dishes and the red light saying "Clean."  I emptied the dishwasher.  Filled it back up again. It was time for Jesse to wake and bathe.  I provided the incentive for his movement.  I attempted to get Maddie dressed, and I noticed her fingernails looked like that guy in the Guinness Book of World Records with the gnarly fingernails.  I cut her fingernails while she asked me questions about hair bows.  I then adjusted Jesse the fashionista's choice for dress.  I tried to make sure everyone was properly attired and ready to go.  Brush teeth?  Check.  Hair fixed? Check.  Shoes on?  Check.  We gone.  No we're not.  Maddie wants books, Jesse can't hear a word I'm saying cause he has those earphone things on, and all this is happening while Diego is singing some horrible song in the background.  I began a bit of a rant.  Ranted briefly.  Basically, incoherent ramblings of a mad man with a lot of grunting.  The kids pretty much ignore me anyway so it's all good.  I compared myself to Job and Mother Teresa of Calcutta before we were actually able to leave.  The journey begins.
     I had to drive my wife's Prius on the morning journey, because she had my Xterra for hauling of consignment sale stuff.  The Prius doesn't like me, and it doesn't hide the fact that it doesn't like me.  The car mysteriously locks doors or won't unlock doors when they're supposed to be unlocked.  At this point, I almost took the door off the hinges to get Maddie and her books in the car.  Jesse just gives me that look and rolls his eyes.  Maddie, immediately recognizes that we are in Mom's car, and wants her Rapunzel CD to listen to, because it is located in the Prius.  I wanted to listen to Sports talk radio, but not on this day.  I got Rapunzel.  We dropped Jesse off, and he sprinted, to get away from the car.  I've never seen him happier to get to school in his whole life.  We drive away, and after a couple of miles some woman named Queen Golf-ball and her horse named Maximus were doing something.  Maximus has a Roman feel to it, so my attention was peaked.  "Are you not Entertained!!??"  No, I'm not, sorry Maximus.  Rapunzel sucks.  Maybe it's the hair, and how does she wash that stuff?  Rapunzel, "Let Down Her Hair!", right into a horrible traffic jam on good ole I-65.  I took a back route, and Rapunzel was at an end.  I switched to Sports Talk Radio all covert like, but Maddie caught me and said, "Hey!!  I want Rapunzel again."  I tried to switch back to the CD player, but it was on another CD.  It sounded like a cross between the Indigo Girls and the Dixie Chicks.  Some kind of tree-huggin' hippy chick crap that Cheryl listens to.  I attempt to change the CD back to Rapunzel, but I cannot.  Literally, there is not anything in this vehicle that clearly identifies how to switch the CD, and I hit every button on the dash.  I just kept hearing ole Tree Hugger sing, and Maddie was becoming restless.  Like I said before, this car doesn't like me.  The traffic was at a stand still, and old Iron Bladder (Me) had to go "See a man about a horse." However, unless I wanted to be arrested, there was no where to see said horse at the moment.  At this point, I've accepted my fate.  I am praying for a meteor shower or an invasion of hostile Aliens to put me out of my misery, but unfortunately this doesn't happen. I duck and weave my way through more obstacles, and I finally arrive at Maddie's school.  I pick up Maddie and her books, and head to the door.  I realize at this moment that I have forgotten the code to enter.  This place is locked up like Fort Knox, and I got nothing.  The code has recently changed, and I don't know what it is.  I was able to get to my trusty iPhone, and checked my notes, and luckily it was there.  Thank you Steve Jobs!  I got her inside her class room, and her teachers commented on how pretty the flower in her hair was.  I didn't know she had a flower.  I also noticed, she had seven necklaces on, and bangle bracelets all the way up to her elbow.  Damn, missed that.  I apologized for Maddie's odd appearance, and I was off again. This time all solo like!!!
     I had my doubts about surviving on this morning, and there were a few moments that I thought all hope was gone, but I persevered.  I've had worse days, but for whatever reason I decided to write about this one.  I like to say that, "I've walked through the valley of the shadow of death, and did not fear evil, but those kids will scare the hell out of ya."  We're just Livin La Vida Loca around the Perry house, and I wouldn't have it any other way.  I'm out.