What's The Smell?

So I walk into the house the other day and I am hit almost immediately with what seemed like the distinctive odor of, well, poop.

I ask my wife if she can smell it and she says no. While I know she doesn't have as much nose to work with as I do, I am pretty amazed she can't smell it, She asked whether it could be a dead animal. I tell her this is an entirely different smell.

I sniff around a bit, but I can't seem to isolate the smell and I'm really in no hurry to locate it. I go about my business, figuring it will reveal itself in due time. Or in doo doo time. (Let it be known David Ries never passes on a poop joke.)

A few minutes later, I walk by the kitchen sink and in hide and seek terms, "you're getting warmer....you're hot." There is a UPO, an unidentified putrid object in a pink food dish. And it reeks!

Most likely, it came from Rebecca's car. Rebecca's car isn't exactly pristine. It has art supplies and other items throughout the front and back seats. I jokingly call it the Honda Storage Unit.

Apparently, Tobey unearthed this container and transported it into the house. I have no idea what fossilized food artifact is before my eyes. I consider carbon dating. Or cutting it in half and counting the rings.

Instead, I carry it to the trash can and flip the container upside-down. It ain't budging, folks. Eventually, I find a plastic utensil and nudge it. It falls with a solid thud into the trash can. I wash away whatever residuedue is left until I can walk by the sink without the activation of my gag reflex.

Tonight, you will find it exposed in a green trash bin with the lid pulled back to air it out. I still don't know what it is, but I swear I heard turkey vultures circling our driveway tonight calling out to each other. The cry sounded like, "Oh, hell no!"

A Teen Owners' Manual

   There is no owners' manual for a teen and even if there was, it would have to be updated daily.   Perhaps the better guide would be Ripley's Believe It Or Not.

   Example # 1

  "Mom took a Benadryl for her cold and won't wake up and I'm hungry."

  "Well, we went grocery shopping last night.  There's plenty in the house to eat."

  "That stuff isn't for dinner.   That's for other meals.   If I eat that, I won't have anything to eat Friday."

  "Well, we could just pick up something Thursday."

  I wound up bringing home chicken and waffles from IHOP at midnight.

  Lesson: Food categories should also include when it can be consumed!


  Example # 2

  We recently brought said teen a trash can.  The trash can remained in the hall.   

  Other items, like paper, food wrappers, water bottles and packaging littered the floor.  Oh, and tissues.  Lots and lots of tissues.

   Fed up one night, I picked all of it up and deposited in the trash can, which was a scant 10 inches away.

  "Thanks, I was going to get to that."

  IT'S 10 INCHES AWAY!

 
 Example #3

"Hey, I was checking my bank account today and there was a 20 dollar Nintendo charge.  Does anybody know what that was?"

"Oh yeah.  I asked you about it a few weeks ago, but you were pretty sleepy and probably don't remember it.   It's a game I told you about."

"Okay, that clears it up."

"Yeah, I figured you might not remember, because you had been asleep."


Note to self:  Never go to bed!

Breaking Up Is Easy To Do, Hard To Talk About

"Dad, while you and mom were eating, I broke up with (name redacted)"
"Aw, I'm sorry. Was it your decision?"
"Yes"
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"NO! Why does everybody want to know my business?"
"Okay. Well, (name redacted) was supposed to come over tomorrow. Is that still on?"
"Yes"
"What's that going to be like?"
"Awkward, probably"
(Dads head explodes. Leftover torso wanders aimlessly, searching for where it misplaced the "Guide To Teenagers)

Pre-Teen Theme Park

  I recently commiserated with a friend how my daughter, who was never really "sugar and spice" to begin with, had morphed into a moody pre-teen, although truth be told, that's redundant. 

  My friend offered sympathies and then handed me a pass to what she said was a "Pre-Teen Theme Park." 

  I replied that I didn't really feel like taking my daughter there.  My friend said, "It's not for her.  It's for you.  It will give you real insight of what it's like to be a pre-teen."

  One Saturday, when my wife and daughter were otherwise engaged, I decided to check it out.  I produced my pass and gave it to the ticket taker.  "Is this Pre-Teen Theme Park?"   She rolled her eyes.  At first,  I thought it was rude and then it hit me.  "Ohhhhh, I get it now," I said.

  The first ride was the Hormonal Rollercoaster.  As I was standing in line, various pre-teens walked up to me making random statements like, "You're going to wear THAT?" and "Try not to embarrass me this time!"   They seemed really exasperated.

  I was paired with a pre-teen named Jasmine.  Well, sort of.   She didn't want to ride in the same car as me, so she sat one car behind me.  As we crested the first hill slowly, she muttered, "This is the worst ride ever!"  As things sped up, her demeanor changed.  She pulled out her cell phone to take selfies of her hair flying behind her."   "Isn't this fun?" I shouted.  She scowled and pretended not to hear me.  I turned back around, but could hear her exclaim, "What a loser!" before she started giggling uncontrollably.

  When that ride stopped, I was directed to a nearby group of trampolines.  Each one had an A and a Z printed on the canvas.  There was a sensor under each.  I was instructed to jump on A, listen, give a natural response and then jump on Z.

  I gave it a try.  I jumped on A and heard, "This test is really difficult."  

  "Do your best," I responded.   "You can't always get everything right the first time."

  I then jumped on Z.  "Now I'll never get to college!"

  I tried again.  I jumped on A.  "I caught Ian looking at me today.  He turned red when he saw that I saw him."

  "He probably thinks you're cute!"

  I jumped on Z.  "More likely he finds me hideous and he was embarrassed when he thought I thought for a second he liked me.

  I tried a final time.   Skipping A I just said, "I love you sweetie.  I always will.  You're the best thing that ever happened to me.

  I jumped on Z.  "You have to say that!   You're my dad!"


  I went to the next exhibit.  It was actually a hologram of my daughter and was called "Holding A Grudge."   You stayed as long as you could until you couldn't take the negativity anymore.   You'd earn extra tickets the longer you were able to stay.

  "Mary really hurt my feelings when she insulted my art assignment."
 
  "When did that happen?" I asked my holographic daughter.

  "Back in third grade!" she answered indignantly.

  "We have good memories too," I said.  "Remember when I wrote you letters pretending to be the tooth fairy..."

  "Don't remind me." she said.  "I was so stupid back then!"

  I had enough.  I took a break at the Pre-Teen Café.  It was weird though.  I ordered food that sounded like it tasted really good, but when they brought it to the table, I didn't want to eat it.  I was just wasting my money.

  I then went to cash in my tickets.  I was overjoyed to learn that I had qualified for an elective!

  "What are my options?" I asked.

  "Drama, drama, drama, drama or drama."

  "No thanks," I said,  "I can get that at home."

Preteen Observations

1) How can we have a kitchen filled with food and she doesn't like any of it?
2) How can you suddenly not like cheese?
3)What's with the occasional laptop volume equivalent to a 747 three feet above your house?
4)Trash can-two steps away. Sink-five steps away. Repeat as necessary.
5)Did I say the areas behind the couch cushions could be used for storage?
6)Hey, it's 90 degrees. Let's wear a flannel shirt with shorts and sandals
7)I still find you adorable. Deal with it!

Treasured Find

   This week, I was made aware of a poem my father wrote 72 years ago.   I had never seen it before.   A woman in Maryland found it years ago in one of two suitcases that contained letters her parents wrote to each other.  It touched her, but she had no idea how to get in touch with the author or his descendants.

  Research on Ancestry.com led her to my cousins and in turn, to me.   We talked for the first time Tuesday night.  Best we can tell, her father and my father were together at Camp Blanding in Florida for Army Training.  Her father had a Passover seder with my cousins' parents and presumably, my dad.

  The poem was written on March 4, 1943.  My father would have been 21, my grandmother would have been marking her 47th birthday that day.  At the time, my father was a German refugee.  All he knew (and prayed) that was his mother and father were alive in Europe, possibly in a work camp or concentration camp.

  Sadly, my grandfather died in Auschwitz.  My grandmother would survive the war, come to America at age 50 and live until the age of 99.

  I find my father's poem poignant, heartfelt and full of the sensitivity he passed along to me.  All but the last two stanzas are typed and the last two are crossed out with handwritten revisions.  I wanted to share them with you.

  What makes this day so different, makes the clouds so gray?
  The sun shines like it always does and yet I can't be gay.
  My heart is heavy and my thoughts are somber too,
  For mother dear, today's your birthday and I am here but where are you?

  I cannot see you, wish you luck as I have always done,
  I cannot show you all my love, like I should as a good son.
  Yes, oceans separate us and on them there is battle
  And every one of our guns, yes, every piece of metal
  That's fired on the Axis Forces help us get together,
  And that this day will come, I'm sure, my hope is strong as leather
  But yet it does not help today, this day you're far away
  And on my mind there is so much that I do want to say.

  I want to ask you how you are, and what you do and dad,
  To ask you how you both make out in this world that's gone mad.
 
  Today is your birthday and I know you will think of me,
  My thoughts will meet you there halfway above the foaming sea
  They'll be together if we can't, they'll celebrate this feast
  And wish you all the luck and happiness, I think that is the least.

  For all the sorrows that you had, may joy come thousand fold,
  Your future life it may be bright and warmth replace the cold.
  Yes, mother, I do think of you, but always when I do,
  This question keeps disturbing me, I am here, but where are you?

  Ernest Morris Ries
  March 4, 1943
 

Emasculated

Heater Repairman: "Do you want to watch me put together the filter?"
Me: "That's okay."
Rachel: "I do"
I don't want Rachel downstairs with a stranger, so I go downstairs.
Repairman: "They use metal now. These filters are much easier to install."...
Rachel: Well, if anything falls apart around here, mommy is the one who will fix it."
Me: (thought bubble) "If you all need my balls, I'll just leave them here on the floor...."