Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Don't Try This at Home...

They say that 90% of all fatal accidents occur in the home. Usually because someone did something stupid.

They don’t say anything about flesh wounds.

I don’t know what’s worse. Doing something stupid that causes injury to yourself or having to tell your wife that you’re an idiot.

As if she doesn’t know already.

Last night I couldn’t sleep. I don’t think I was able to close my eyes for more than a minute.

You know how the sounds of the ocean, of the waves crashing against the shore can help you relax? You know how just the sound of raindrops can make you feel totally at ease and at peace with the world?

There’s something about water that’s just calming.

Apparently it’s not a good idea to get that calming feeling when you’re in the shower.

That’s right.

I fell asleep while I was taking a shower.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if I had perpetually running hot water.

But I don’t.

When the hot water ran out….

I woke up.

In what only could be described as a “WAAAHAAAA!!!” moment.

In a “WAAAHAAAA!!!” moment your body is not connected to your brain. Because if it was it wouldn’t have jerked my head back striking the tile causing me to momentarily go back to sleep.

Oh I woke up again. But not until I had dropped to my knees. My brain at this point was saying to my body, “HEY ASSHOLE GET OUT OF THE SHOWER!!!!”

Using my catlike reflexes I jumped out of the shower. Well I started to jump and then my brain remembered that I don’t do that.

So now I’m wet, cold, naked and wedged between the toilet and the sink which is the spot I fell into coming out of my reverse 2 ½ with 2 ½ twists in the pike position while holding my ankles… or something like that.

I believe it had a 3.9 degree of difficulty.

“I’m okay!”

That’s what came out of my mouth a second before I realized I wasn’t okay. I don’t know why I said it. There was no one home to hear it accept me. Maybe I was trying to reassure myself that I had a shred of manliness left.

I felt the back of my head to make sure I wasn’t bleeding, saying out loud to myself, “I may have a concussion. Maybe I should go to Urgent Care.”

Then the remainder of my stupid kicked in and I called my wife. Because I needed the loving, caring, sympathetic ear of my soul mate of 35 years.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“It’s not funny I could have been killed.”

“That would have made a great episode of CSI.” (hahaha…)

“Thanks babe.”

“Okay I’m done laughing. (hahahaha…) Are you bleeding?”

“No.”

“What hurts? (hahaha…)

“Other than my pride? Everything.”

“Do you think you should go to the (hahahaha…) doctor?”

“You’re still laughing.”

“I’m just picturing you explaining this to Dr. Roth.”

“With my luck he’ll want to use the “finger”.”

“HAHAHA!!! I’m sorry babe. HAHAHAHAHA!!!!! I can’t help myself.”

"Would it help if I told you I was limping?"

"Yes.... (hahaha...)"

"In sickness and in health babe."

"In sickness and in health maybe. But I don't remember anything about being stupid in our wedding vows."

"Ouch... Maybe we should renew them..."

Friday, November 13, 2009

Perhaps imagination is only intelligence having fun. ~ George Scialabba

“Skittle's Pool Hall, Eight Ball speaking.”

“Dad?”

“Anthony?”

“You should not be allowed to have caller ID.”

“What’s up?”

“I think something’s wrong with John.”

“He didn’t get the flu did he?”

“No… It’s… well… He’s talking to himself.”

“He’s three! All three year olds talk to themselves.”

“Yeah but dad he’s having actual arguments.”

“What?”

“He’s arguing with himself. He takes both sides of the argument and battles it out with himself.”

“Uh… I got nothing.”

“Dad I think me and Kim breaking up is making John a little…well… I think it’s affecting him… you know in his head.”

“Anthony he’s three. I’m sure it’s one of those phases we men go through. You know, like when your brother liked girls with big noses.”

“I’m being serious here. I’m worried.”

“Well what does he argue about?”

“This morning he had a toy plane in his hand and he said it was a dinosaur and then he said it was a Transformer and he kept going back and forth. “Your supposed to be a Transformer. No you’re a dinosaur. I’m a Transformer. I’m a dinosaur, I’m a T-Rex. No you’re not a T-Rex can’t fly….” Dad this went on for an hour.”

“Well he was right; a T-Rex can’t fly. Son he’s not arguing with himself the toy is arguing with itself.”

“Dad you have to see it.”

“It seems normal to me. I mean if a toy plane thought it was a dinosaur then I think there needs to be some kind of discussion.”

“Dad he looks at me like I’m supposed to solve the argument.”

“I wouldn’t get in the middle of it. You might pick the wrong side.”

“Why can’t he have an imaginary friend like every other kid?”

“How do you know he’s not arguing with an imaginary friend?”

‘HE USES HIS OWN NAME!”

“I still have an imaginary friend myself. I use him to listen to your mother and to go to Pottery Village.”

“I should use one to argue with Kim.”

“Why not? Give him a good name though. I named mine “Armando”.

“Armando?”

“He doesn’t speak English. That way when I make him listen to your mother his head doesn’t explode.”

“You have an imaginary friend that doesn’t speak English?”

“Sure. I found him outside a Home Depot. I used him to listen to you and your brother when you guys tried to get me to help with your math homework.”

“That explains a lot.”

“Sometimes I send him to board meetings for me.”

“Please Dad. Can we be serious for one minute?”

“Son you are totally over reacting. He’s a happy imaginative three year old. If he was thirty then I think we might, I say “might” have a problem.”

“It’s freaking me out dad. I think it’s my fault because of…you know… me and Kim.”

“Son, there will be plenty of time for you to freak out. Just wait until he’s four and wants his own iPhone. Look, people break up all the time. It’s sad and it can be tough on the kids but you both love your son. Try and treat each other with respect and understanding. He’ll see that and even though you won’t be together he’ll be fine.”

“I guess… It’s hard… It sucks…”

“Don’t worry son. No matter what happens I will always be there to give him advice and consul. And if for any reason I’m not around he can always borrow Armando.”

“Perfect. Maybe Armando can argue with him in Spanish.”

“Why would Armando argue with him in Spanish?”

“You said he doesn’t speak English.”

“He doesn’t.”

“But…”

“I never said he was Mexican.”

“But you said you found him outside of Home Depot.”

"What are you racist?"

"Dad! No! I just assumed..."

“You realize were discussing the language skills of my fake imaginary friend here right?”

“Yes but…”

“Ukrainian. Armando is Ukrainian. He was in the Ukrainian special forces before the wall came down and then he immigrated to the United States and worked as a private investigator and bouncer in a comedy club. But he always felt a yearning to build things so he got into construction. He tried to get his contractors license but he couldn’t read English so he became a cake decorator instead but then he lost that job during the Atkins Diet craze. So he became a parking lot space stripe painter at Home Depot.”

“Dad… I… How in the hell does your mind work like that?”

“I guess it’s from the discussions I used to have with myself when I was three.”

Monday, November 09, 2009

I have returned. I think.

I had given up on this blog. It’s been a challenge lately to think funny. To sum it up I’m a banker. Not a fun profession to be in right now. Both of my sons were mortgage brokers. Notice I said “were”. Both my sons are going through tough times.

It is difficult when you write a humor blog about life and family when there is all this negative crap going on. I want to respect my sons privacy (a little anyway) so the humorous moments related to their job struggles just seem off limits.

But then something changed.

On top of everything else my wife gets the H1N1 virus otherwise known as the “Swine Flu”.

Trust me.

Not funny.

This is a nasty bug. I have never seen my wife this sick in thirty two years of marriage. She looks and feels like she’s been hit by a bus.

Make that two buses and the second one backed up and ran over her again.

Neither one of us likes to go to the doctor. Normally my wife would have to be bleeding out her eyes before she’d see a doctor. So when my wife said she “needed” to go to the doctor, I got a little worried.

The doctor warned me that she was contagious and asked me if I had any underlying health issues.

“Well I am a tad overweight. But that’s because I’m saving up for the apocalypse in 2012.”

Nothing.

Not even a smile.

He then prescribed rest, plenty of fluids and “Tamiflu”. Tamiflu is an antiviral that… well I don’t know exactly what it does but she had to have it.

So I went to Vons, dropped off her prescription for Tamiflu at the pharmacy in the back and then went around the store stocking up on Lysol, Clorox, Purell, Anti Viral Kleenex, Rubber Gloves, surgical masks, soups, popsicles, eggs, oregano, rosemary and provolone cheese.

When I was sick my grandmother always gave me a little piece of provolone cheese to make me feel better. She also put a raw egg under my pillow and taped oregano and rosemary to my bedroom door. A Sicilian grandmother is a lot like Jesus. They can heal anything.

So after I’m done loading up on flu stuff I go back to the pharmacy to pick up my wife’s prescription. The pharmacist told me I was lucky to get “Tamiflu” because it had been “flying off the shelves”. And then he said the following:

“Make sure she takes this with food, she should not operate heavy machinery or drive, and you should be on the look out for any odd behavioral changes.”

I looked right at him and said:

“Odd behavioral changes? My wife is a 52 year old premenopausal Portuguese grandmother. How am I supposed to know the difference?”

The pharmacist looked up at me, paused, and then at the same time we both laughed… and then I started to cry a little… because I was serious.

My wife is still sick but there are signs of improvement. She gave me the “evil eye” this morning. Anyone married to an Italian or Portuguese woman knows exactly what I’m talking about. The “evil eye” is a lot like X-Ray vision only it can suck out your soul.

So I’m going to try again to find the funny even in the most negative of things. It won’t be easy but I need it for my own sanity.

And people please, please, please don't screw around with the "Swine Flu." Get a vaccination as soon as you can and make sure your kids are vaccinated. This thing is really brutal.