Friday, March 24, 2006

They call me El Lobo...

“Hey dad we’re back home and Kim’s okay.”

“So what happened?”

“The doctor says she has an irritable uterus.”

“Yeah, well, from my experience they’re pretty much all irritable. I thought her uterus was incompetent.”

“It’s still incompetent but now it’s irritable. She has an “incompetent irritable” uterus.”

“Son you haven’t been married long enough for her uterus to get irritable. I think it took about five years for me to piss off your mom’s. Your mother’s was more of an “angry” uterus. I think you’re okay until it’s an “incompetent angry” uterus. Your mother had one of those for a while.”

“What do you mean she “had” an angry uterus?”

“Well your mom had a hysterectomy. I think her uterus was upside down or something. That’s when they really get angry, when you flip them upside down.”

“How??? What??? Upside down???”

“Hey, I’m no doctor.”

“So when did mom get back from New York?

“Last night.”

“Did she have fun?”

“I don’t know I haven’t got the Visa statement yet.”

“So dad what was is like to be a bachelor again for a few days?”

“I was a free man baby… Oh yeah… A loner… A wolf… El Lobo….”

“El Lobo? El Lobo? What did you do?”

“I did what any 48 year old man would do with his wife out of town…. I cleaned out the garage and then I got the flu.”

“That’s pathetic dad.”

“You know what else is pathetic? When I get up from the couch this sound comes out of my body.”

“What kind of sound?”

“It kind of sounds like, “uggggghhhhhhaaaa”, the sound isn’t coming out of an orifice; it’s actually coming out of my body.”

“Come on dad?”

“Seriously! I tested it. I sat back down. I got up again… same sound. I tried it four times…same sound. Then I took a nap. Sounds are coming out of my body. Your grandfather made those sounds, and then he died.”

“Not on the same day dad.”

“Well no, not the same day, but eventually. Now whenever your mother is around I won’t get up from the couch. I don’t want her to hear those sounds and get hopeful.”

“It sounds like an excuse to not have to do stuff that mom wants you to do.”

“Ahhh grasshopper…. another lesson learned.”

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Just a typical family dinner....

I had my two sons, their pregnant wives, my grandson and two pit bulls (one pregnant) over to my house for dinner.

That’s a lot of imbalanced hormones at one dinner table.

And I’m not even including my wife.

I don’t think anyone can argue with me when I say women are a tad nuts when they’re pregnant. What is also true is that men are naturally stupid when it comes to the care and handling of a pregnant woman.

Here is a condensed version of our conversation:

Anthony: “I’m not worried about getting Kim to the hospital on time. It takes what, twenty or thirty hours to have a baby right? I’ve got plenty of time.”

My Wife: “Twenty or thirty hours?”


Anthony: “What? Stop looking at me that way.”

Me: “Uh son…. Your mother was in labor for you for forty five minutes.”

My Wife: “Of pure hell.”

Anthony: “Well it’s not my fault, we haven’t even gone to class yet. I have had zero training in this. Once I get the training I’ll be fine. Why is she looking at me like that? Honey, stop it. You’re scaring me.”


Anthony: “Uh… maybe I’ll just wait in the car.”

A.J.: “I don’t know what the big deal is. In Vietnam the women just squat and have a kid.”

Me: “You’re dead.”

Melina: “You think your wife should squat in a rice paddy and just have a kid? Is that what you think?”

A.J. “Well…no… I haven’t been trained either. It’s not like I was there when you had Alex. Cut me some slack. Put down the fork babe.”

My Wife: “What is Cali doing under the table?”

Me: “WHOA!!!! I’ll tell you what Cali is doing! I just had a pregnant pit bull nuzzle my huevos rancheros.”

My Wife: “You’re what?”

Me: “Sorry Melina, that wasn’t meant to be offensive to Mexicans, HEY!!! NICE DOGGY!! Anthony do something with this dog.”

Anthony: “Sorry dad she’s just pregnant.”

Me: “Yeah well your wife’s pregnant and she’s not under the table. Wait… That came out wrong. I’m not saying Kim should be under the table. I mean I’m not comparing Kim to a dog. It’s just that Cali’s is like…you know… sampling the buffet.”

My wife: “Don’t be an idiot.”

Me: “What if she thinks they’re attacking her young? HUH? Did you ever think of that? No, of course not. I’m keeping a vicious animal at bay with my family jewels and you mock me, that’s right you mock me.”

My wife: “This is where they get their stupid gene from ladies.”


My wife: “Kim? Kim? Snap out of it dear.”


Anthony: “Uh... I’m spending the night here.”

Kim: “You did this to me.”

A.J. “Can’t you just get a shot or something? You know they have that thing they give you, a “saddle sore”, it’s a shot, I think it’s called a “hemotural” or something like that, mom tell her, go ahead, the baby just pops right out with no pain at all.”

A.J. “What? What I do?”

Melina: “Momma Cal, I swear your son wasn’t this stupid when I married him.”

Me: “If someone doesn’t get this dog off me I’m going to owe her twenty bucks.”

My Wife: “Keep dreaming Bozo.”

Kim: “Tell me a story.”

Anthony: “What?”

Kim: “A story, tell me a story. The baby will relax when he hears the sound of your voice.”

Anthony: “You want me to tell your stomach a story now? In front of my dad and A.J.?”

Kim: “If you loved me you’d tell me a story.”

Anthony: “Okay I’ll tell you a story. There once was a twenty six year old man who had a pregnant wife who wanted him to tell her stories. He cooked, cleaned, shopped, walked the dogs, did laundry everyday so his wife could get complete bed rest. He was exhausted and confused every waking moment of the day. The end.”

Kim: “That’s not a good story. You better have a good one by the time we get home.”

Melina: “A.J. will you tell me a story?”

A.J.: “Great, now look what you’ve started.”

Me: “How about I tell everyone a story? There once was a forty eight year old man who was being held hostage by a pregnant pit bull.”

My wife: “Just push her head out of the way and stop whining.”

Me: “You couldn’t breed Chihuahua’s…..Noooooo…. You had to raise pit bulls.”

Anthony: “Dad I’ve told you a million times pit bulls are not vicious animals. They’re great pets and great around kids. It’s the people that train them to fight that give the breed a bad name. By the way Chihuahua’s are way meaner than pit bulls.”

Me: “So pit bulls don’t chomp off nuts, people do?”

Alex: “Chomping nuts? Nuts! Nuts! Nuts! Nuts! Poppa’s chomping nuts.”

A.J.: “Way to go dad.”

My wife: “Alex don’t talk that way, your Poppa is going to the time out step for saying a bad word.”

Me: “No I’m not. That means I’m at eye level with Cali and Chewie.”

My wife: “Go sit on the step.”

Me: “This never happens on 7th Heaven.”

My wife: “Well you’re no minister and that show’s been cancelled.”

Kim: "Twenty or thirty hours......"

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Cause I'm never goin back to "My Old School".....

My wife’s 30th high school reunion is coming up.

30 YEARS!!!

Damn, she looks amazing for someone who graduated high school in 1976.

My wife is my high school sweetheart. That’s right; we’ve been together for over thirty years. She still gets carded; the only card I ever get asked for is my Vons card.

My 30th high school reunion was last year. My class didn’t have a reunion, we forgot. I don’t blame age for forgetting our reunion, I blame the 70’s.

My class pretty much forgot everything. Why? I graduated in 1975. The Vietnam War ended my senior year. You don’t get much luckier than that. The class of 75 spent the entire year partying. Oh I still get flashbacks but they’re from dealing with the transition from rock to disco.

My wife and I went to a private Catholic high school. Our school was just like any other high school, we had the popular and unpopular kids, the stoners, the jocks, the geeks and of course groups broken down by ethnicity. Well you really couldn’t call them groups; we had two black guys, three Mexicans a Japanese girl and an Indian groundskeeper.

We had “gangs”, but because we had money we paid other people to fight for us. Usually the two black guys, the three Mexicans and the Japanese girl.

She was especially tough.

We had what was known as the “WOP WALL.” This is where those of us of Italian ancestry hung out. We didn’t talk much but communicated through a series of hand gestures and odd facial expressions. It confused the hell out of the one deaf kid that went to our high school, he was German.

Come to think of it I still communicate with those guys the same way.

The jocks all hung out together usually tormenting wandering geeks by flushing their heads down the toilet in the locker room. I think one of those geeks started Microsoft and at least one of those jocks took over for the Indian groundskeeper when he retired.

I was in a unique place because I belonged to all of the major groups and gangs. I hung out with the wops, the jocks, the stoners, the geeks even the various ethnic groups.

Why? Raging hormones. I was equal opportunity horny and I wasn’t limiting my possibilities.

I got out my old high school year books and started reading some of the comments written by my friends. At least I think they were my friends but I swear I can’t remember most of their names.

Apparently I was into mountain climbing in the 70’s because most of the comments in my yearbooks were about me “not getting too high” over the summer.

I looked at my senior yearbook photo, I had that 70’s long hair thing going, no moustache and Elvis sideburns then. I got rid of the sideburns because my wife, then girlfriend, used to play the “odd or even” game by yanking out hairs out of the side of my face whenever she felt like it. After I shaved the sideburns she went for the leg and chest hair.

For a little while my friends called me “patches”.

I looked at what I said underneath my senior photo. I wrote that I was a member of the OE8 club. Hmmm…. I think that was kind of like the 4H club only instead of animals we grew barley.

I noticed that something had been scratched out. I could still make out the words, “Julie”. Julie was my girlfriend when I had my senior year photo taken… at the end of my junior year. Here’s a tip, never write down something, anything that you’ll have to hear about over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

I didn’t have to ask who scratched out Julie’s name.

I first approached my wife to ask her out because of the way her rear end looked in those mint green “Dittos” she used to own. So apparently the secret to staying with a woman that rips out your leg and chest hairs for sport for thirty years is her having a nice butt. And yes I realize that I’m going to lose a few hairs for that remark.

Please honey, make it the gray ones.

The nice thing about a 30th reunion is that no one cares what they look like anymore. That’s because no one recognizes anyone anyway. Unfortunately I’m starting to look like Al from Happy Days.

Who knows maybe someone will ask me for an autograph. Probably that Japanese girl or the president of the 4H club.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

If that mockingbird don' t sing...

This is a long one.

I came home to find my wife standing in front of the microwave with her hands on her hips and a disgruntled look on her face.

She then slaps the side of the microwave.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“The microwave is mocking me.”

“It’s mocking you?”

“That last beep is extra long.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I put a piece of apple pie in the microwave and it won’t heat up.”

“How long did you put it in there for?”

“Fifteen seconds.”

“Why didn’t you put it in for thirty seconds?”

“Thirty seconds would be too long.”

“What are you doing now?”

“I’m putting it in for another fifteen seconds.”

“Um…. Babe…”

“Don’t start with me, you know I don’t do kitchen.”

(phone rings.)

“Dad? It’s A.J., Alex wants to talk to his poppa.”

“Put my little buddy on the phone.”


“Hey sport what’s up?”

“Poppa I have to tell you something.”


“Poppa… Sometimes my mom and dad piss me off.”


“Well sometimes they piss me off too.”

“Dad! It’s A.J. I had no idea he was going to say that.”

“No kidding.”

“He knows he’s not supposed to use that language. Alex! You know we don’t talk that way.”

“What are you worried about son? Both of our wives will just blame me anyway.”

“Hold on the phones clicking.”

“Dad? It’s Anthony. Kim made me get her Siopao.”

“She got what?”


“ Uh… Hold on Anthony, I’ve got Alex on the other line. AJ and Melina have pissed him off.”

“They what?”

“AJ, I’ve got to go, Kim has Siopao.”

“Oh my god, is the baby okay?”

“I don’t know let me talk to your brother and I’ll call you back.”

“ANDREA!!! Pick up the phone, Kim has Siopao.”



“What’s wrong with Kim?”

“Uh… nothing.”

“Your father said she has “show” something or other. Is the baby okay?”

“Yes… everything is fine. Siopao is steamed pork buns.”

“Steamed pork puns?”

“Please put dad back on the phone.”



“Dad, why’d you yell for mom?”

“I don’t know what Siopao is; I thought it was a woman thing.”

“Is mom still on the phone?”

“I think she’s gone. Andrea, are you still there?”

“She’s gone.”

“Dad, women are nuts. I come home and Kim says to me, “Do you know what would really make me happy? Food.” I’m like no problem, I just did the grocery shopping, and the house is stocked. She says, “There’s nothing in the house to eat.” I say sweetie there’s all sorts of food in the house. Get this dad, she says, “Yes, but I want something refreshing.” Refreshing? We’ve got lettuce, fruit all sorts of stuff. But no, that’s not what she wants she wants, Siopao. Dad, were talking steamed bread stuffed with meat! How is that refreshing? Plus she wants Siopao from this little place in National City. It has to be that specific Siopao! I had to go twenty miles for Siopao! I swear women are all nuts.”

“Son maybe you’re the crazy one for driving twenty miles for steamed pork buns. Hell, your mother couldn’t get me to do something that stupid. Why didn’t you just get steamed pork buns from someplace close? She’d never know. Suck it up and be a man. You gotta be like Clint Eastwood in Heartbreak Ridge, “Improvise, Adapt, Overcome.”

“Improvise? Adapt? Overcome? Okay mister I can’t use a hammer. You’re an idiot! Listen Macgyver, you know damn well you’d get me steamed pork buns if I wanted them.”

“Crap... Andrea?”


“You two are pathetic.

“We thought you were gone.”

“It’s not my fault, Anthony started it.”

“Thanks dad.”

“Actually Alex started it. He was swearing and I had to correct him. Sometimes I have to bear down and be tough with our grandson. I don’t like to do it but hey, I have to be responsible, the adult, the leader of the pack, the alpha male.”

“Alpha male my ass, don’t change the subject. You’re trying to Chewbacca me.”

“I would never...”

“Son, your wife is supposed to be on complete rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. You will get her steamed pork buns, steamed cow buns, steamed anything and you will do it because she is carrying your child and you love her. Got it?’

“Yeah mom, I got it.”

“Fine, tell Kim I love her and that we’re thinking of her.”


“Dad? You still there?”


“Boy, mom sounded a little ticked.”

“That’s what we call sympathetic symptoms son. All grandmas go through it. It’s some hormonal thing. It gives them the strength of like, ten men. You don’t wanna mess with a grandma going through sympathetic symptoms.”

“I’m standing behind you.”

“Yes, and one of the great things about your mother is how well she is able to control those symptoms and maintain an easy calm demeanor at all times. That and her ability to creep around like a ninja when you least expect it.”

“You’re dead dad.”

“Gotta go grasshopper. By the way call A.J., I may have given him the impression Kim has some kind of Siopao disease.”

“Jesus Christ dad you didn’t?”

“Hi babe. I didn’t realize you were there. A.J and Melina pissed Alex off. Boy that grandson of ours is cute isn’t he? Do you feel like taking a run to the mall?”

“Sympathetic symptoms?”

“Uh… I saw it on the Discovery Channel. It’s science. You wouldn’t know because you don’t watch the Discovery Channel.”

“Sympathetic Symptoms?”


“You think I have sympathetic symptoms?”

“Uh… not anymore. Can I heat you up a slice of apple pie?”

“Don’t mock me Calabrese.”