RaisingDad

My Mom, when she was alive, was amazing.      With all the kids and grandkids and grandkids she had, she never forgot a birthday. Especially mine. My birthday presents began with the Man From Uncle spy camera that turned into a gun, then, as the years flowed by, they slowly morphed into cash.      "For a comic book," she told me when I was a boy.      "For a book," she told me when  was a man.      If what you love is where your heart is, then she always knew where my heart was.      When she passed on, that was the end of the toys, the books... the cash. But every ending has a beginning, and that was the beginning of my Dad's coming to live with me and my family. And I haven't seen a birthday present since.      I sure do miss my Mom.     Raising My Father RaisingMyFather.blogspot.com jimduchene.b...

Tonight my family--that is, my kids and grandkids (the one's that I know of, that is [heh, heh])--are having a surprise birth day dinner for my wife and I. The preparations usually consist of our pretending we don't know about it, and their pretending we don't know about it. But really, my and my wife's birthdays are ten days apart, so any dinner or event we're required to attend at this time of year has to have something to do with our birthdays,  'ja think? It doesn't take Michio Kaku to tell me what time it is. (Heh, heh... I said kaku. )       My Dad's bad memory only seems to flare up when there's a birthday or anniversary to be celebrated. I'm not saying he's cheap. I'm just saying he doesn't care to spend the money or exert the effort to buy anyone a gift. Me, in particular. That was my mother's job, I guess, and she took it with her to the grave.   ...

My Dad drives me nuts.      Today I'm buffing the oak floor. (This is why I retired from my job, so I could spend all my free time buffing the floors.      "Tell me about it," my wife says as she washes what clothes need washing or makes what beds need making or cooks what foods need cooking. Anyway...)      The buffer is kind of loud (okay, it's a LOT of loud), and it makes a high pitched sound. A little TOO high-pitched for these old ears, so I wear ear protectors to muffle the sound. You've seen them used in gun ranges, if you're the kind of person who goes to gun ranges. If not, you've probably seen them in movies or TV. If you haven't seen them there, then you need to watch something else besides the Kardashians.       As I'm buffing the floor, my Dad walks in and sits in his-- my --favorite chair. My wife, out of habit, t...

Are people born stupid or do they grow into stupidity?      When I watch some of those TV shows geared toward kids, they always potray the kids as being smarter than their parents. Well, let's be honest, smarter than their dads . It would be politically incorrect to have stupid women, but how smart can the women be if they marry such stupid men? Well, that's neither here nor there. Where it is exactly, I couldn't tell you. Why?      Because I'm stupid.      Anyway, if these kids on TV or in the movies are so smart, then at some point they must reach an age where their intelligence begins to reverse in direct proportion to the years that are flying by.       For example, I was at the library not too long ago. I got there early, and saw a small group of people huddled at the door like the yearning masses the Statue of Liberty tells us about. I look at them, then I look at the library hours p...

I'm in the great room by myself, sitting in my favorite chair, and watching something other than baseball for a change.      How did I get so lucky? I don't know. My Dad must be taking a nap or something. He's 94-years-old. Maybe I should check on him. But-- dang it! --I'm really enjoying myself, because my hitting the trifecta of television-watching is so rare.      My wife walks in. She gives me a big smile, walks over, and picks up the remote. As she changes the channel, she asks, me "Were you watching this?"       My answer?      "Not anymore."      That's the price I pay for hot coffee in the morning, hot meals three times a day, and the occasional something hot at night. (And I'm not talking about cocoa.)      I look at my wife. She looks happy watching her reruns of NCIS. I think she has a crush on Mark Harmon.   ...

Today my grandson, who's 3-years-old, and I were at the park.      As we were leaving the play area I noticed a gray van. In it were a father and his 16-year-old son. The elder was teaching the younger how to parallel park. I didn't think much about it until I noticed the man's other  two young sons. One looked about 12 and the other about 14. They were each holding two six foot poles at each end of the limit line, in front of and in back of the van. Their father was using them as parking targets for his 16-year-old. I saw them more as potential fatalities.      As my grandson and I walk closer I see the driver. He's your typical 16-year-old, but he has a very stressed look on his face. The father is in the passenger side and I can see he's giving the boy advice. I thought about walking over and expressing my concern over using his kids as targets, because you read tragic...

You know what's scarier than Halloween? Dating. You know what's scarier than dating? Dating when you're older.      My Dad is 96-years-old, so these would be:   The Top Ten Things My Dad Would Do Before A Date      10.  Take a nap.   9. Wash off the fishy smell of Preparation H.   8.  Try to remember who he's taking out.   7.  Massage his prostate to ease the swelling.   6.  Massage his prostate because it feels good.   5.  Shave back, comb eyebrows, trim nostrils, and pluck the hair growing out of his ears.   4.  Do stretching exercises so he won't pull a muscle later just in case he... well... you know.   3.  Don't forget his Gas-X.   2.  Apply acne medication... ON HIS ASS!    And the number one thing he'd do before a date is:    1.  On hi...