On our way to karate class. The van's a mess. I'm disgusted with the appearance, but I know its a fight I can't win. I get a call, she tells me the car is acting up again. Its been on the fritz lately. I want to get rid of the piece of crap so badly but I don't. I can't pull the trigger. Mostly out of fear. Fear of shopping for and purchasing a new car. And frankly to me at this point, the hassle of it giving us fits does not yet out weigh the hassle of new car buying. I tell her it sucks, and move my thoughts elsewhere.
I hate karate class. I don't let on. I never let on that I hate it, but I do. I hate thinking about how much money it costs. I hate the fact that we are contractually obligated to come. I hate knowing that it's mostly my fault that we have that obligation. I'd punch the instructor in the throat if I wasn't afraid she'd kick my ass.
At a stoplight I see a gentleman standing outside holding a piece of cardboard. It reads Out of work. Have family, any spare change is appreciated. Down the road a bit is a Taco Bell with a sign that reads Now Hiring Managers, Apply inside. I wonder what type of man is to embarrassed to work at a Taco Bell, yet not to embarrassed to beg for change? I think of how on the way home, I should stop and give him some money. Or an application.
We pass a mini van with a female driver. She wears a do-rag on her head, Aunt Jamima style. I think, wtf, she's old enough to know better. I'm embarrassed for her. I'm embarrassed for my town.
Inside at karate the smell of stale cigarette lingers on the couple in front of me. They're new here. Their boy forever will be known as Snots at my house. I wonder if other parents have nick names for the kids. I'm sure they do, parents can be cruel. Thirty minutes in and Snots' parents head outside to smoke. The smell is unbearable upon their return. It makes me appreciate the fact that I once had the will power to quit.
I watch my boy go through his moves. I worry about him the most. He's to much like me. I already know his struggles. His fears. His short comings. I pray that I'll be able to help him along the way. I pray that he's not to much like me and he lets me help him.
On the way home I stop at two different places for dinner because I'm a cool dad like that. But mostly because all three of them can never agree on one place, and frankly I'd rather stop twice then listen to them argue. I hear them discussing how the oldest was trying to sell the other two at karate. I'm pissed upon hearing of her plan. Only because I wasn't offered a cut. Before pulling in the driveway I hear her explaining how an ostrich is too big to fly. She's either very smart or very weird. Sometimes Im not sure which.
Once home we change, eat, and sit around the rest of the evening. The clowns find things to keep them occupied since we don't watch t.v on Tuesdays. They've grown accustom to it. One colors, one plays on an ipod. I'm not sure what the third does. She often gets lost in the shuffle. She's the middle child you know.
Soon it's bed time. We'll struggle to get in bed in a timely manner. I'll make idle threats about beating them if they don't get in bed. They'll mock me. Not to my face of course, but inside. Later, I'll tuck them in and tell each one what I expect of them for the following day.Then I'll let them know how much I love and cherish them.
J-Tony
Just Write
I hate karate class. I don't let on. I never let on that I hate it, but I do. I hate thinking about how much money it costs. I hate the fact that we are contractually obligated to come. I hate knowing that it's mostly my fault that we have that obligation. I'd punch the instructor in the throat if I wasn't afraid she'd kick my ass.
At a stoplight I see a gentleman standing outside holding a piece of cardboard. It reads Out of work. Have family, any spare change is appreciated. Down the road a bit is a Taco Bell with a sign that reads Now Hiring Managers, Apply inside. I wonder what type of man is to embarrassed to work at a Taco Bell, yet not to embarrassed to beg for change? I think of how on the way home, I should stop and give him some money. Or an application.
We pass a mini van with a female driver. She wears a do-rag on her head, Aunt Jamima style. I think, wtf, she's old enough to know better. I'm embarrassed for her. I'm embarrassed for my town.
Inside at karate the smell of stale cigarette lingers on the couple in front of me. They're new here. Their boy forever will be known as Snots at my house. I wonder if other parents have nick names for the kids. I'm sure they do, parents can be cruel. Thirty minutes in and Snots' parents head outside to smoke. The smell is unbearable upon their return. It makes me appreciate the fact that I once had the will power to quit.
I watch my boy go through his moves. I worry about him the most. He's to much like me. I already know his struggles. His fears. His short comings. I pray that I'll be able to help him along the way. I pray that he's not to much like me and he lets me help him.
On the way home I stop at two different places for dinner because I'm a cool dad like that. But mostly because all three of them can never agree on one place, and frankly I'd rather stop twice then listen to them argue. I hear them discussing how the oldest was trying to sell the other two at karate. I'm pissed upon hearing of her plan. Only because I wasn't offered a cut. Before pulling in the driveway I hear her explaining how an ostrich is too big to fly. She's either very smart or very weird. Sometimes Im not sure which.
Once home we change, eat, and sit around the rest of the evening. The clowns find things to keep them occupied since we don't watch t.v on Tuesdays. They've grown accustom to it. One colors, one plays on an ipod. I'm not sure what the third does. She often gets lost in the shuffle. She's the middle child you know.
Soon it's bed time. We'll struggle to get in bed in a timely manner. I'll make idle threats about beating them if they don't get in bed. They'll mock me. Not to my face of course, but inside. Later, I'll tuck them in and tell each one what I expect of them for the following day.Then I'll let them know how much I love and cherish them.
J-Tony
Just Write
Sounds like you are a good daddy. With struggles like the rest of us. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteI love the style of this post. I hope you archive your blog. As an adult I wold love to be able to crawl into my parets thoughts way back when....
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, often the middle child does get lost in the shuffle ;)
Awh, such a sweet story! Must be great watching your kid's karate lessons!
ReplyDeleteLoves,
Rowan
www.redreidinghood.com
so interesting to see life from a man's point of view. while reading your post (and enjoying it a lot), i suddenly had an epiphany: is *that* why my husband buys food for our kids from all those different outlets? LOL.
ReplyDeleteI'm reading backwards, and read the post about your morning first. But I'm loving these posts and the glimpse into life through your eyes.
ReplyDelete