My husband has had a rare day off today, and I have to say I’m conflicted about it, mainly because he’s off tomorrow too. On the one hand, I miss his face around here when he’s working for The Man 100 hours a week. But on the other hand, he’s a very demanding little human being, and I’ve had to cater to a lot of his whims today because, let’s face it, he keeps me in the lifestyle of ease and comfort that I have grown accustomed to.
And one of his newest whims is to tell me what I should write about. In the past, he hasn’t read many of the articles I’ve written because he’s insisted that “print is dead”.
But, as luck would have it, people from his workplace and several of his motorcycle brothers have started kidding around with him about some of the stuff I’ve written about, and suddenly, it isn’t just Bird’s little hobby anymore. It has become more of a medium in which to have him shine. Or, at the very least, not make him look like a total dork.
Since I would love to tell some of his stories, I agreed to sit with him and construct for print, one of his stories. With my little notebook in hand, we set off in pursuit of The Perfect Chef Story. (Chef is his nickname…) After two hours of milling through that horror show that is his mind, I threw my pen and paper down in disgust. He kept trying to take creative license with the facts of his stories, or made them up completely, and they all involved some sort of violence, sexual appeal, or plain nonsense. Obviously, he has a future as a fiction writer…Finally, I convinced him that I only write non-fiction. I have a standard, and if he isn’t going to uphold it, he can’t play. He buckled down, and we tried to come up with something to write about. We tried, but the man’s mind wanders worse than mine ever did, and finally, he got distracted by a commercial about Pepsi and some dancing, terrifying baby playing a guitar, and I was finally off the hook. Thank God the man is easily distracted.
So, this evening, after tucking him into bed, and sending him off to Peeps Town, I looked over my list. Then I started laughing because the list is kind of funny. So, I thought I’d share it with you.
List of Things To Write About In Bird’s Blog:
Poems Chef has read on bathroom walls – ie: Jesus is the answer! What was the question?, Limerick about balls of sh**…Gross. (Yes. I actually wrote the word “gross”)
Normansky – The cat we saved from the shelter that killed all the rodents in one of our houses, including my kid’s pet Gerbil.
Caitie’s Graduation – How the whole motorcycle club took her to her graduation. (This one was visually awesome but makes for a boring story)
Burnt Chili – How Bird burned some chili and Chef made the kids bury it in the backyard so her feelings wouldn’t be hurt.
Gribery goober – Don hacked up half of his lung in the middle of the night, and I stepped on it in the dark. I threw up for years just thinking about it. Again, gross. (What is the matter with men??? We have an indoor bathroom!!)
Trip to Moab – This is a really good story, but it is book length…Hey! Maybe I’ll write a book about this one!
Willy – How after we buried our dog, the cats dug him up, and Dj swears they were eating his leg.
Bekkie becoming a woman – how Don almost destroyed Bek’s trip into puberty because of the literature the school sent home about her changing body…Also a good one..maybe later..
Jake – How our dog kicked a pitt bull’s a**. Technically, I’ve now told the story, because that is all there is to it.
Don – How he shot an armadillo (true), screamed when he thought an earthworm was a small snake (true, but he won’t let me write about it), beat up a child molester (true), beat up a guy in a bar who tried to stab him (exaggerated to a spectacular degree), beat up ..beat up..beat up…gun, gun, gun gun..(false, false, false, false)….Oh, stop.
So, think of this as coming attractions, if you will. Instead of writing his warped versions of stories on my blog, I’ll set one up for him..He can develop his own audience…
I think tomorrow I will write about the earthworm story…He’ll hate it, but it’ll be worth the laugh..