Finger Snapping Jealousy

I remember when I was young I thought people who were good winkers had the world by the tail. I was hell bent at an early age to master the art of winking. Really, is anything cooler to a six year old than winking?

My brother in law Mike is not a winker. But, he is the kind of guy that says most of what he has to say with a fair amount of emphasis. For him, it probably is not worth saying if you can't put some gusto behind it. To add emphasis to his emphatic statements, he snaps his fingers. Not ordinary snaps. Effortless snaps that make a sonic boom. Perfectly timed snaps that emphasize at the exact right moment emphasis is needed. Snaps so loud my ears ring. Snaps that make a dog's hair stand on end. Snaps to make cat jump five feet vertical. Right hand, left hand, both hands in perfect unison.

I'm jealous and enthralled. I feel like my six year old self committed to learning the nuances and facets of winking. But my new target is the perfect finger snap. Yet, I can't master it. I try. I try again. I try hard enough arthritis springs up in my joints and tells me to stop. I got a blister on my snap finger from my poor form. My snaps sputter and thud. I am sidelined. I have given up on the perfect snap. We all have limitations. Best to accept them and move on. I'm a winker not a snapper.

Canned Laughter

Last week we flew Orlando to Dallas. At the terminal one young Ethan announced his need for the potty. So, we ambled off to the men's room. Nearly a full house, but we found a stall. At some point, a dude about three doors down said "shit" and started laughing loud enough for all the temporary occupants to hear. Including Ethan. Who thought it was the funniest "shit" he had ever heard. So funny, it brought on full laughter. Audible to not only all temporary occupants, but to the terminal occupants, and maybe even some passengers on the tarmac. This outburst of Ethan's laughter produced even greater laughter from stall three. . . which brought on uncontrollable laughter from Ethan. I wish you had been there. You too would have thought it was the funniest "shit" you ever heard.

Mother's Day

This post may be a few days early, but, that's okay. Growing up, Mother's day was always a bit of a chore. I mean that in the nicest way. But, honest to God, it was a bit of a pain in the ass. What does a child really know about what their Mothers do for them? When you get old enough to understand how much freakin work Motherdom represents all you do is resent it.

I have a new take on Mother's day. I now understand. Only took just shy of forty years.

After seeing my wife raise our children, I have a complete thorough understanding of maternal instinct and motherly love. Maternal instinct is real peeps! I never beleived it until I saw it. And how amazing is it to see Mom's look after their children?

About two years ago, my son had a rash. Looked baaaaaad. Took him to doc 1 who had no clue. Took him to doc 2 who said "I don't know what it is, but it is not strep." My wife told the doc it was strep. It was first on her differential diagnosis. The doc assured us it was not the right look or distribution for strep, which he had seen thousands of times. While doc was out of the room, my wife asked me if she should just tell the doc to run the strep culture. . . I didn't want to offend the doctor and was sure he was right (he was wearing the right garb). So, I said no, let's just follow his lead. When the doc came back, my wife told him flat out to run a strep culture regardless of what he thought. Such assertiveness. So demanding. So not go with the flow. But, this story would only be a story if she was right, which she was.

The point is: Mother's know shit us mortals do not. When their kids are involved, Mothers have nerve and backbone men could only wish for.

We'll talk more about Mother's and Mother's day in the next post. Gotta keep it pithy and germaine.