Foot-In-Mouth Disease

Lately I've had more than my share of foot-in-the-mouth moments and since I haven't proven what a giant blockhead I truly am in a while I figured I'd lay it all out for the world to see.

Scene: The Office
Situation: Discussing the new changes I've made to Charlie with my mother on the phone
Foot-In-Mouth Moment: As I was discussing the changes I mentioned that she should really check out some of my blog buddies, specifically Weird Girl. It's no secret that Weird has been trying to get pregnant for several months now and recently she even did a post entitled "More Trials With My...." anyways I can't even bring myself to type it....just click over there and read about it. Trust me she's hilarious. Anyways I'm telling my mom she should read Weird when the words "One of her most recent was is called Let's Talk About My (Rhymes with Delores)". Which soooooo was not the title and sooooo not something I ever wanted to say in front of my mother. It only made it worse that I was in an cube farm full of eager ears just dying for some gossip.


Scene:The Living Room
Situation: Officially Jumped On A New Band Wagon
Foot-In-Mouth Moment: SEC football fans are no doubt aware of the huge rivalry between Alabama and Auburn. Families have split, marriages have ended, employees have been fired all due to which side of the feud they fell on. My entire life I have been an Auburn fan "War Eagle". My wardrobe contains no less than 6 Auburn shirts, a pair of Auburn sandles, various hats and as every father does I have passed this tradition down to Fred. Well being an Auburn fan was easy when they were good, but this year they stink. To make matters worse Alabama which has traditionally sucked is now on a major upswing with no signs of slowing down. I had been keeping it a secret that I was debating on sneaking across the border to party down with the enemy (especially after that win against Georgia) for weeks, but I slipped and made my intentions official. As Fred was leaving a message on his Nani's cell phone, searching for something to keep him talking I said the unthinkable "Say ROLL TIDE!!!" which of course is the enemy's mating call.

Welcome To Golfers Anonymous

Hi. My name is Charlie Blockhead and I'm a bad golfer. It's taken me a long time to stand here today and admit that I have a problem, but like with what happens in other cases where addiction is involved my eyes have been opened thanks to an embarrassing moment that I may never live down.....I was beaten by a 90 year-old man who had not picked up a golf club since 1997.

Ok so he wasn't exactly 90 years old and in my defense I did have Fred with me thus my parental instincts only allowed me to keep one eye on the ball so that the other could make sure he didn't accidentally fall into a water hazard or get beamed in the head because he doesn't know that the word Four has another meaning. Still while Fred wasn't that big of a distraction and even ended up paring a couple holes himself , I simply meandered my way from hole to hole with what amounted to a golf bag full of wet noodles. All of this of course occurring on my 33rd birthday.

I have yet to beat anyone I have ever played, so I got myself a ringer...or so I thought. He said "I'd love to play golf with you my handsome, intelligent, charismatic grandson and my cute as a button, long haired, genius of a great-grandchild. I have to say though it's been 10 years since I last played and I might be rusty." To which I replied "That's ok Rusty. I'm not that great either. Forget keeping score, let's just have a good time." All the while relishing what I was sure would turn out to be my first victory on the green links.

Obviously things did not turn out the way I had intended. Yes it is true that while he had not played in over a decade, what I did not know was that my dear grandfather was hustling me. As I learned just moments after he crushed his first 350+ drive down the center of the fairway, my grandfather who spent his entire life working from sun up to sun up with only mere minutes of sleep to get him through one day and on to the next had actually considered turning pro only to give it all up of the love of family.

Therefore it is with much pain and sadness that I come before you today, hat in hand after being spanked by Grampa Woods, to tell the world I.....am going to beat that old man if it's the last thing I do!!!!! I WILL GET YOU RED BARON!! YOU HAVE DECEIVED ME FOR THE LAST TIME!!

While I go practice my chip shot (as well as my tee shot, bunker shot, fairway shot....) enjoy some pics of Fred and his great-grampa aka Grampa Woods.

Sideways Pop-Tarts

Now that Fred seems to have an opinion about every thing from what shirt he wears to The Hill to the proper way to stack the growing legions of stuffed animals (Baby Bear, Baby Bunny, Goofy, Mickey, Poo Bear, Eeyore, Dolphin, Pablo, Tasha, Tyrone, Blanket Bear, Frog, Tad...all of which must be in his bed before he can go to sleep) as a control freak myself, we seem to be having a constant battle as to just who's way is the right way and who's way things are going to get done. I feel for poor Lucy in that it's a common joke between women that their husband is simply another child to take care of, yet at times it's like I've fallen asleep and woken up in the middle of a round of "This is the way this gets done/This is the way I do it/But that's not the right way to do it/But this is the way I get it done" and I can't seem to find an end to it. A game which is started at a moments notice and involves such trivial things as getting into the car properly, the right way to play with a Slinky, and how to brush your teeth.

Only many times what I consider to be trivial, is actually a major deal with Fred in that it's important to him to learn to do things himself. In some ways I miss the little baby we once had that required our constant attention to survive, then again as I meet him on the couch every afternoon at 5:30 for a half hour of The Mickey Mouse Club House I can't help but smile as my little boy decides that eating a Pop-Tart sideways is exactly the way it should be done. In fact as I join the masses headed for work at the Cube Farm every morning, part of me screams for a chance to be different from those surrounding me from 8-5.

Who knows....maybe they taste better sideways.

The Night The World Came Alive

He'd heard the word almost every hour on the hour during the weeks leaving up to the trip. If asked the little boy would scream on command "TO THE BEECH" , yet his parents could never be sure just want the word meant to him. Although he'd been there the year before, he was a different person now. No longer a baby, half as tall as his momma, the two year old he had grown into was in a lot of ways seeing the world for the first time.

It was late when they arrived, but with an enthusiasm that mirrored that of the young boy between them Mom and Dad couldn't wait till daybreak to see the place they had been dreaming about countless nights since they last left. They wondered how he would react to the waves crashing against the sand.

Much like the word strawberry meant nothing to him until he tasted the fruit or the word banana lacked significance until he was able to hold one in his hands and pull back the layers; the beach was nothing more than something he had learned would guarantee a smile on the faces around him when it was spoken.

The night was perfect for first time beach combers. A sky filled with the twinkle of a million stars and the brightest moon ever to have lit up the night made it impossible to tell if what he was looking at was a dream or a new found reality. The sand felt cool on his toes as he began to notice a squeaking noise with each footstep as if somewhere behind him several windows were being washed all at once.

With a gentle breeze coming from the right and no fear of the darkness that surrounded him, the little boy looking at the great big ocean for the very first time and could only utter one word. So silently that if they had not been paying close attention they would have surely missed it, mom and dad heard their first born say what they too were thinking at that very moment..."wow"

As the three of them stood there staring across the waters of the Gulf on that cool ocean night, the world and all it's trials became extinct. All the heartaches, headaches, and hard times that filled the spaces in between that moment and the last time they stood on the sandy shore a year earlier became trivial and meaningless. All that mattered to the mom and dad were those two hands that were clamped tightly between them. And all they could say was the same word uttered by the little boy with the long curly hair who was in a lot of ways seeing the world for the very first time...."wow"

Wiggle'd Out

I've suffered through Barney for an entire a year sometimes five times a day. I managed to enjoy Blue's Clues simply because it gave me a rest from Barney. I welcomed the Wonder Pets Tuck, Linny, Ming Ming too since I have this weird thing about talking animals that just makes me laugh every time and the Wonder Pets look real (at least to me). I love the Backyardigans. Know most the songs by heart and have my favorite episodes that I keep on TiVo. I even laugh out loud at the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse every time Pete dresses up in a disguise and the gang is clueless as to who could be underneath. (Um maybe it's the only person on this show not wearing a sheet over his body?) But I can't stand.....I despise....I HATE THOSE ##@$@! WIGGLES.

I don't like Jeff, I don't like the sleepy purple one, or the fake guitar playing bug-eyed one, or the red one with the sideburns who loves fruit salad, or even Captian Feathersword. Still they seem to hold a special place in Fred's heart and make him smile so I must suffer for a half hour everyday. (Notice I didn't include a picture...I can't even stand to look at them online)