...she made me cry

On Monday my youngest daughter asked me if I would be interested in going on a field trip with her and her classroom. Knowing how important these kind of things are to her, I said that I would be happy to go.

So with that...I thought it was pretty much a done deal.

Today, while my wife and I were driving to the doctor's office, my daughter called to tell her mom that she was going to be giving me her lunch tomorrow because I would be needing one.

That was nice.

Now on our way home from the doctor's office my wife told me a story.

"You know your daughter really loves you." she said.

"Yes," I said.

"It was sweet of her to offer you her lunch."

"Mmm." I said.

"Do you know what she did the other day?" My wife asked.

"Hmm?"

"Her teacher said that he was only taking two parents from their class and it was going to be the first two parents who signed up for the field trip."

"Huh." I said.

"Do you know what she did?"

"What?" I asked.

"She got up at 7:00 in the morning so that she could get to school early so that she'd be the first in line so that she could turn in her permission slip. She waited in line for forty-five minutes so that her dad could go on a field trip with her."

I listened to my wife tell this story and then I cried.

The Mile

Billy Larue rushed up to his bedroom window. Grabbing the cuff of his shirt sleeve, he rubbed away the condensation and peered outside. He could just now begin to see the full moon rising, silhouetted by the maple trees as the last of the autumn leaves lightly fell. They slowly floated to the ground before they came to rest on the dew-covered lawn. Dying they were, he thought. He desperately wanted to go outside and play in them one last time, before winter claimed them. But he knew it was already too late. They had already begun to wither once they had touched the ground -- death decaying.

Remembering then why he had come upstairs, he half jumped and half climbed up onto his bed. And sitting there, he waited. Soon the sound of wood hitting wood made soft thumping noises out in the hallway. The woman made a low gutteral noise as she entered the room. Almost, he thought, like an animal. Setting her cane aside, she smiled at him and held out her long flailing arm.

"Here, Grandma," he half whispered.

"I'm too old for those stairs," she laughed.

"Never," he said, "Just take two at a time and be done with them."

"Oh world," she said, "Two stairs! I'd certainly be done with them then."

"Here," Billy said, holding out his hands, "Right here I am."

"I see you," she chuckled. "Now give me those bandages. We'll have to hurry; it's almost dark."

"How do you know when it's dark, Gram? You're blind."

"Oh, well ... that's my secret now, isn't it?" she said.

"Well I suppose..."

"Give me your hand -- the one you'll use."

"This one I'll use." Billy said, giving her his left.

"Let's begin then." she said.

Twenty minutes later Billy was standing in front of his mirror admiring himself. "The best ever!" he said.

"Let me see," his grandma said. Reaching out, she found his wrist and slowly started patting down the young boy's torso. Yards of bandages covered Billy's upper body. "The best ever!" he said again.

"How are your legs?" she asked.

"Perfect," Billy replied. "But how?"

"Pins and needles," she said, "That's why you'll walk like this."

She stumbled forward with her arms held out, imitating a mummy. They both laughed.

"You didn't," he said, "Nary a one. I was watching you."

"Another secret." she said, "Just a grandma's touch."

"Will you go with me this year?" the boy pleaded.

"You don't need an Old Witch walking you around." She started, "This cane of mine has seen too many miles already. Besides, you and Bessie will be alone this year. It's time. Somebody's got to light The Mile."

Billy walked over to his window. From the second floor of the house he could see the faint outline of the old rickety fence that skirted the property. Letting his eyes follow the driveway to the very end, he could barely see the gate. It was as tall as the cornstalks that lined the road. And, it was exactly one mile from the house to the gate. Along the driveway, Billy could see the jack-o-lanterns that they had placed there three days ago. There were over a hundred of them.

"We've got to hurry!" he said, turning to his grandma, "It's almost time."

"Go get your sister, then." she said, "But don't forget these."

The room had darkened considerably, and only the wick of one flickering candle danced in the twilight. The old woman's hands seemed to disappear into the folds of her dress and then they reappeared with a box. Just like magic, he thought.

She handed him the box and then smiled. "Go now then," she whispered.

Billy seemed to vanish from the place he once stood. Candlelight bounced off the walls and he was gone. His footsteps could be heard as he took to the stairs. Yelling over his shoulder he said, "Thank you, Grandma."

Outside in the courtyard, Bessie danced with excitement. The night was warm but the wind had picked up since the afternoon. There was a storm coming. "Hurry Billy!" she cried out anxiously.

"I am," he said. Carefully holding the box that Grandma Mabel had given him. Every motion was almost reverent.

The moonlight shined down on the silver clasp of the box as he unsnapped it. Inside were two candles and a single wooden matchstick. One match, he thought to himself. What if it takes two? He gave the box to Bessie and he let his mind wander as he summoned up his nerve to strike the single stick. Bessie looked at him with wild anticipation. She held out one of the candles and waited.

An eerie howl swept across the cornfields and they both turned to look at the horizon. Lightening flashed in the far distance. The storm was moving away from them toward Barrow County.

"Now," he whispered. Bessie leaned in close with one hand cupped around one of the candles as Billy struck the matchhead against a stone that lay on the ground. Fire lit up and briefly danced and then the flame disappeared.

"No!" they both screamed. And as they stopped to look at each other, the matchhead jumped again and a tiny spark lit the other side of the matchstick. The two held their breath as they leaned in close to light the candle Bessie held in her hands.

"Now the other," Billy said. Bessie's hand disappeared into the long black cape that she wore and then reappeared holding the other candle. Just like Grandma, he thought.

Lighting the other candle, the two flames jumped in the night as they quickly moved from jack-o-lantern to jack-o-lantern, bringing life to the haunted house behind them. They turned to see Grandma Mabel standing in the doorway, waiting for them to finish.

One by one the jack-o-lanterns came to life. Ghouls and goblins shined through the hollowed out pumpkins. Images of Dracula and Frankenstein danced in the night among witches and warlocks. When they had finished, they stood at the gate. The first Treaters had arrived. Billy unlocked the wrought iron gate and he and Bessie slowly pushed them open.

"Trick or Treat," the first guest said. And they all ran down The Mile toward the old haunted house, back from where Billy and Bessie had just come.


By Beaux Kyle
© 2008

Skateboard R.I.P.

I went outside to the garage and I decided I was going to put this skateboard thing behind me. And as I suspected...it wasn't one of my better ideas. My girls were both getting home from school just as I flew up in the air and caught myself. "Dad, are you all right!" They both hollered.

"I'm just fine," I said, "I'm just uh...um...cleaning out the garage."

I turned around and looked at the garage. (good answer beaux).




There's a Shop Smith in here somewhere. It's 4.5' tall and almost 5.5' long. I haven't seen it for a while.
And so I began...



After a couple of hours I manage to come up with this...
Just in time for the winter season. Now maybe we can get the car in here.

But I also managed to come up with this...

I guess I didn't really think this through when I told the girls I was cleaning out the garage.

In the end I finally got it straightened out. I no longer have an urge to go skating. I don't want my bones to knit. And I'm not going to tell the girls I'm cleaning the garage when I'm not actually planning on cleaning the garage

I might be stupid but I sure am dumb

I am not a young man any more, and as each day moves forward I hear more creaks and groans than I care to admit. Yet every so often I get the feeling that I'm still seventeen and I ache to do something incredibly stupid. And so far I've lived to talk about it.

A couple of weeks ago I decided to hop on my bike and run down to our neighborhood video store. I thought I should also stop at the park to check on my girls and let them know what I was doing. My wife had just bought them brand new skateboards and they were both there trying them out. Alone. Unsupervised. I thought it would probably be in everybody's best interest to at least stop by and see if they were doing all right.

When I pulled into the parking lot I noticed that our car was there. My wife had swung in on her way home from work. I also noticed that there was nobody on the sidewalks skateboarding, and that my wife and children were nowhere to be found. There were a couple of kids on one of the basketball courts shooting hoops and there was a girl and her dad playing catch just outside of the baseball diamond. The soccer fields were all full and there were some kids up on the monkey bars. As I looked closer I noticed that my wife was standing there watching them - the kids - on the monkey bars. And as wandered closer I recognized that they were my children and that one of them was getting ready to go down the slide. But what I couldn't quite wrap my head around was the idea that she was sitting on her skateboard. Or why she was sitting on her skateboard going down the slide. And then it hit me as I realized what was going on and I thought to myself - she's going to ruin those bearings when she hits the sand. I wonder how many times they've already done this?

As I walked up to the playground I could hear the girls laughing hysterically and my wife was saying, "Your Dad's going to kill me." And the girls burst out laughing even louder when they saw me standing right behind their mom.

My wife turned around and looked at me and said, "I told them they could do it just once, and that they had to be real careful."

Right...I thought to myself. As if by putting eighty pounds on four wheels on a metal surface with a sharp incline could be considered anything but careful. "Uh, huh." I quietly mumbled. While at the same time I was calculating my weight, the incline, and the metal surface. How would that be? And then I realized I'm 47. I've never been on a skateboard in my entire life. Let alone on a skateboard on a slide. That would probably be incredibly stupid. And then there's the bearings to think about. So I did the smartest thing I could do; I walked away. I told my wife I was going to the video store and that I'd see them later. But not a day goes by when I don't think about those damn skateboards. Even though I've dismissed the idea of going down the slide. That's a no-brainer. But every time I'm out in the garage and I see one of those boards, I actually contemplate getting on one. And then I run back in the house.

My Friend Bob...(part 1)

My friend Bob was ranting to me the other day at work about the cost of living and the fate of the economy in general. I like Bob. I understand him. But I have to watch him or he'll sometimes leave me in the dirt. One minute he will be talking to me about the Olympics in China and the next thing you know, he is asking me about the idiots who poured his driveway.

"What do you think, Beaux," he will ask me, "Should I sue those idiots?" (this isn't his choice of words either).

"Well, I don't know Bob," I'll say, "Maybe if you told me the story first than I could give you an opinion."

"See that's what I like about you, Beaux. You're always listening," he'll say.

And then he is off on something else...

"You know I went home yesterday and I turned on the television and there was nothing on. Just a bunch of junk. And you know my son moved out right?" he looks at me and I nod my head yes, "So it's just me at the house. Alone. By myself. He'll come over sometimes to eat dinner. But anyway, I'm thinking to myself, why should I be paying for dish when there's just me? I only had it because my son liked watching it. It doesn't make any sense to keep paying for it if I'm not going to watch it. So I call the dish guys up and I'm telling the lady that I want them to disconnect my service. I don't want it anymore."
And the gal says, "Well, didn't we just upgrade you Mr. So and So? (not his real name).
"Why yes," I tell her, "You guy's just gave me like twenty extra channels. But how many advertisements do you think I really want to watch? I'm looking to start saving some money, not keep spending it. And I'm not really interested in some guy who goes fishing all day long and then ends up throwing them all back. What's up with that? Plus I'm single and I don't want to buy a bunch of jewelry. And who the heck is that guy who is trying to sell all his guitars? Nobody wants his painted guitars. I mean, I'm in a band. I play rock and roll. I can't imagine anyone wanting to buy his guitars."

So I notice Bob has stopped talking and I look up from what I'm doing because I suddenly realize he's waiting for me to say something. "So are they disconnecting it? " I ask.
"Well, now hold on a minute, Beaux," Bob says, "I'm getting there."

"So I ask the woman what needs to happen. Do I have to take the whole day off and wait for someone to show up?"
"No, not at all Mr. So and So. What we will do is send you a couple of boxes with some instructions in it and then you can disconnect the receivers in your home and unscrew the cone that's in the middle of the satellite dish by yourself. Then all you have to do is pack it up and send it back to us."
"Well now, how long do I have to wait for you guys to do this. When are you going to be sending someone out to disconnect everything?"
"Oh that won't be necessary; we have already taken care of that, Mr. So and So. I'm processing your order right now."
"Well, when are you going to turn it off?" I ask the lady.
"Oh, I have already turned everything off, you've been disconnected for about five minutes now."

"So I walk over to my T.V. and I turn it on and guess what? There's nothing but dead air. With a flip of a switch she has already shut me down. Why does it always take a month to turn everything on?"
"I don't know, Bob," I say, "They probably have a lot of orders to fill."
"Yeah, you're probably right. They have to run a line and put up a dish and if you live in a new house like mine, then none of that stuff is there yet."
"Yep," I say.
"Do you know what else I did yesterday?"
"Well no, Bob, what did you do?" I ask.
"Well, I'm sitting there in the living room with nothing to do because I just turned off the dish, right, and it occurs to me that I'm still paying for the internet. So I get up and wander into my son's room and I'm looking around and I'm thinking to myself I don't need this internet service anymore. I don't even have a computer. So I call them up and I tell them that I don't want it anymore and right away the guy is asking me if everything is all right or if I'm unhappy with their service and I'm thinking to myself that it's none of his business. I don't want to have to tell this guy that my son just moved out and I won't be needing his services any more. It's none of his business. So I just yell at him and tell him it's none of your business.
And I'm talking to this guy for a little while longer and he finally says. 'I've taken care of everything Mr. So and So. If you have any problems then please don't hesitate to call us back. And thanks again for using blah-blah-blah.'
'So then I'm disconnected?' I asked him.
'That's right Mr. So and So, you've been disconnected now for about five minutes.
''Wow, that was fast,' I thought to myself.

"Do you know how much money I saved yesterday. I just saved myself over $200.00." Bob says.
"Wow, maybe I should be thinking along those lines." I tell him, knowing full well that that's not going to happen.
"Now all I have to do is go home and pack up those boxes," he says.
"I thought they were going to be sending you some?" I asked.
"Yes, but when I asked her how long it was going to take she kind of freaked me out."
"Why?" I asked him.
"Well, I'm not really sure but, I think I heard her say, 'Have you checked your porch yet, Mr. So and So?' "

And then he adds...

"...yeah, thanks Beaux. I think I am going to sue those concrete guys!"

The Monkey on my Back

Our first child was born on a full moon on Washington's birthday. It was eight months, eight days and eight hours later - as a new moon approached - when my mom came over to our house very excited. It was the day before Halloween. She had in her hand a shopping bag that I wish I'd never seen. It was our daughter's first halloween costume. The memory of that moment will never leave my head and it is perhaps the first time I have ever seen one gesture make one woman so happy, while it made another one so mad. For my wife, dressing our daughter up in her first halloween costume would have been tantamount to her first birthday. And for my mom - the grandma - she didn't realize that she had just crossed a very sensitive line. And for me - what was about to happen, was just true horror. I think my wife really wanted to cry. It was our first halloween and my wife had her heart set on an angel, and in the shopping bag was a red felt 'daddy's little devil' costume. You could almost feel electricity flowing through the room. And was that the sound of thunder? It was one of our families first dilemmas I would ever be caught in...and it was between my wife and my mom.

...

While I was going through the garage the other day pulling out Halloween decorations, I replayed that memory over again as I do almost every year. Only this year I found myself faced with another dilemma. This year it was between both of my daughters.The girls have chosen their costumes each year now for several years. Ever since they were old enough to make up their own minds about what they wanted to be. They have been the witch or princess or fairy or lady bug or cat or dog, and they have always liked what they have chosen. But this year they started getting a little creative. And maybe creative isn't even the right word. Maybe it was that they thought they were being creative when this idea came around: I know! Let's wear what dad wore two years ago for Halloween when he was the flying monkey! And here I have to admit, the costume was pretty good. Rather than buy the actual Flying Monkey costume for $70.00 dollars. I was going to save some money and piece together my own costume and save some money. As it turned out I ended up spending over $80.00 dollars. But my costume was an original and I fit in great with some of my co-workers who also put a lot of thought into their OZ-themed costumes. So anyway, when the oldest asked about the monkey I knew something more was coming. And I had already heard some quiet conversations about the monkey on more than two different occasions.

"Dad," she asked, "Can I be the Flying Monkey this year?"

"What about your sister?" I asked. "What does she want to be?"

Oh, I think she wants to be the monkey too."

"Well," I said, "Since you asked first I guess that only seems fair."

And that was it. I talked to my other daughter and she was okay with the decision I had made. But my heart and my stomach felt like it did 11 years ago:
WHAT - DO - I - DO - ? Back then it was much harder. My daughter ended up going as 'Daddy's little devil' and I probably broke my wife's heart. And the following year when grandma showed up with Ronald McDonald I had to draw a line. This year I think I should get together with the youngest and think up something kind of clever.

YIKES!!!

{commence venting}
I am a beat man. My aunt is coming in from Boston in 6 hours and thirteen minutes and the house is a mess. I went upstairs to see if the girls had cleaned out the bedroom where she is going to be staying and nothing has been done. Everything was shoved under the bed and into the corners. There is hamster bedding everywhere and it too is under the bed. On top of that I've been trying to vacuum with a hose that has a hole in it and that just doesn't work. But the clencher is - the vacuum just quit running. Just stopped and died. To top it off all of the girls are gone for another hour or so. Lois took the girls to work with her and I really needed them here today. Crap!
{Back to work}
And so what do I do? Blog.

Back to School

Every year I go back to school dreading that first semester. I heave a sigh and sadly shake my head wishing I didn't have to do it. But I quietly remind myself -- this is for my kids.

When school first started it was really quite easy. In fact, the first couple of years I didn't even have to open up a book. Not once. And it wasn't until about the fourth year that I realized that it was probably time I started taking things more seriously, because education is a big deal.
As I said, those first years were the easiest, and everything was familiar. Except for English. I've always had a terrible time with English. Words like: to and too, or then and than, I just don't get them. And no matter how many times I use them writing or how many times my wife explains them to me, I have a hard time retaining that information. Especially when I'm told one of them is a preposition or one of them is an adverb. Like that's going to help. That kind of language will spin my head. Sometimes I just feel stupid.
As in previous years it always starts out the same old way. "I can't do this!" One of the girls will scream. Exasperation, anger and irritation all team up for battle and it always happens in the same place -- right in the middle of our living room floor. The girls will toss down their homework in front of us, whining voices accompanied by tears. "I'm just stupid!" one of them will say. Now that sounds familiar -- I am thinking to myself.
After settling them down and looking over their homework and deciding that I don't know any more than they do, that's when it happens, that's when I crack my first book. That's when I go back to school for 5 or 10 minutes out of the year and I take my first crash course study. Sitting next to me on my coffee table is my 'Hail Mary,' my 'Saving Grace'. It sits there all year long. And whenever I need to refresh my memory about anything I reach for it. It is my teacher's guide to How-to-Teach-Your-Sixth-Grader book that helps teach your student everything they need to know. I quickly thumb through the Table of Contents and search for that particular subject that has brought so much chaos into our house and presto! I am suddenly a know-it-all magician.Now I'm no teacher, but I'll play one at home. I will tackle denominators and numerators, isosceles or parallelograms and synonyms or antonyms. But when you throw words at me like adjectives, possessive pronouns and conjunctions; I will get utterly lost. And if I can't find help in my magic book, I will say: Go see your Mother.
I update this book every other year just to keep ahead of the oldest child by one grade and still have it be useful for the next child the following year. Next year I'm going to need the How-To-Teach-Your-Eighth-Grader book -- if there is such a thing -- and I really hope there is one because re-learning all this stuff is proving to be a little harder every year. I'm thinking I should probably just buy me a copy of Teaching for Dummies and a white board.

SOME THINGS WE SAW TODAY

For several weeks our family has been running all over town looking for interesting things to do. Everything has been play it by ear'. Whatever that means. And I know it doesn't mean, 'Let's just see what happens'. There's always a plan. So when my wife mentioned one Sunday morning that there was a treasure hunt going on downtown, and that "Hmm, that might be a fun thing to do," I knew that was the plan. Thinking over the options of what we could do on this second day of Fall, which was either to stay at home & clean the house because relatives are coming or go on a treasure hunt, I chose the latter. Like most times when we leave the house, we all go our separate ways to take care of last minute business before we meet at the car. I always hop in the shower, the girls feed and water the animals and the wife gets online. I don't know why.

Anyway, it always takes us less than 30 minutes, unless somebody is outside spraying down the garden. That might add a few more minutes. And then we're off. Now it usually takes some time to get from point A to point B, because suddenly we are all saying, "Hey, we never did this," or "We never did that," and then the famous "I'm hungry!" chorus starts circling around the car. So, after food, we're off. And like every weekend, our sense of time starts to get away from us.

Like last weekend we decided to go to Park City. A drive which would generally take us about a half hour ended up taking us about three. Why? Because on our way out of town we passed by a big 'Close Out Sale'. But I'm not complaining about this because I got stuff and then we got food.

So, we're going on this treasure hunt and my wife starts explaining the rules. And she's rattling off everything we need to do, like where it's at and what we're looking for and I'm thinking it almost sounds like she's a little too familiar with these rules. So I inquire and I get this, "Well, it's my work and they've been doing this for 16 years and we can't enter because I work there, but hey, it'll be fun."

So I'm sitting there taking that all in and all I can think of is: There's no prize? 16 years? Why didn't I know about this before? We've been married for 12 years and this was the first time I'd ever heard about an annual treasure hunt from her work. I love a good treasure hunt as much as I love Halloween. And before I can think of anything else to say we're downtown and my wife yells out, "There's one!" And any thoughts I might of had before were gone. Poof. The 20 items we were looking for just got knocked down to 19 and less than five minutes later we had 18, and then 17.

After fifteen minutes of driving around we finally decided to get out of the car and split up. There were five of us because our girls had invited the neighborhood girl. Splitting up sounded like a good plan, but it didn't really work out to anyone's advantage. The girls all wanted to go by themselves, but we weren't about to leave an 9-, 10- and 11- year old alone to run around downtown by themselves. I don't care whether they all have their purple belts or not. So the girls go one way and I go another. And not too much later my youngest is calling me trying to explain to me what mom wants and where I should go. First off, my youngest is 10 years old and she doesn't even know where she's at. She just knows we're downtown by mom's work. And she's trying to give me directions where to go. So I look over my shoulder to where she's standing in the middle of the square and she's waving her hand and pointing out directions like I might actually be able to see her. (Which in this case I could.) And I'm thinking we were actually almost thinking of letting them run around by themselves. But my big question was why didn't my wife just call me and tell me exactly where they were.

Anyway, that was two weeks ago and I was just wondering what we were going to do today when my wife just called and said, "We're just thinking of going on a little jaunt. Want to come?"

THESE ARE SOME OF THE THINGS WE SAW TODAY...

(Button)



(Trouble)

(Just miles from home)

(Who's the Boss)

(What???)

NOTE TO MYSELF: Do not make up home remedies

The other day I came home exhausted. My legs were killing me because I had been scratching them all day. Several years ago I started showing signs of psoriasis and over the past few years it's gotten worse. Normally my psoriasis is something I don't care to talk about and it has been the cause of much pain and anguish. It is really living hell.
Tired and sore after a 12 hour day, I decided that I was going to take a bath. And not just any bath, I was going to take a real long bath. As I ran the water I thought that maybe I should try some bubbles. How great would that be? So I started off to the 'girls only bathroom' looking for the bubbles when it occurred to me that I had just bought an all-natural save the earth organic substance that I had been wanting to use. The product was a castile soap that promised wonderful things when diluted in certain measures. It could be used for a variety of things -- from cleaning your infant or the diaper pail, personal hygiene, or eliminating odors -- you name it. The trick was all in the dilution.
And thinking that I was really going to spoil myself, I probably added another half ounce to the first ounce I had already dumped into the tub. The smell of peppermint told me that this was just going to be great.
I spent the first few minutes scrubbing my legs. And I mean really really really scrubbing my legs. I was going to get rid of the pain and get my relief. After 10 minutes I realized I wasn't getting any relief. And if I wasn't mistaken I was actually starting to feel worse. As I slowly stood up to rinse all the soap off my body, I winced. My skin felt like it was on fire and looking at my legs, they were beet red. I wanted to scream as the water hit my skin. But that might draw attention and the last thing I wanted was attention. I didn't want anyone to know about this stupid thing I had just done. Best to just grin and bear it. My little secret.
When I was done I put on a long pair of pajama bottoms and went downstairs. Every move I made hurt my skin. I realized that my skin was starting to stick to my pants as I shifted around trying to sit down. My wife (somehow noticing my discomfort) was asking me if I was alright, "Yeah," I quietly mumbled while inaudibly adding, "It's all just rosey."
I went to bed that night cursing myself. Thinking I should have grabbed the bubbles. And for three days I walked around trying to not let my clothes touch my skin. That's a real hard one to pull off. It's like getting a paper cut and then bumping it all day long.
I was going to keep this a secret, but when I came home tonight the first thing I thought about was taking a nice long bath. Yeah, that wasn't going to last very long.