Wandering Nocturnal
Mikey and I have alone time on weekend nights. I'm the only one awake after midnight in this house, me and my canine shadow. Sometimes my Boxer feels like a 75 pound tumor. His head weighs like bricks on my arm and lap as I type this
James makes a big deal of being snubbed by the dog. "I'm number three.", is his joke. But he doesn't realize the aloof dog is not a pest to him. I love my dog but sheesh, he's a fucking stalker, and jealous as hell. Not a good combination.
------------ on another note ------------
A friend once asked the question ...."Does having and raising children make us fuller than those who don’t?"
It got me thinking about my two fabulous sons and many years of parenting. We parents have a way of forgetting one side of being a dad or mom. We know what joys a childless person misses, and we often dismiss the pain.
My story about Jeffrey's snowy birthday to remember is 99% true but I don't know what 1% is just my storyteller nature. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. There really was a big axe in the room, and a sniffy hound, and the moist biological swoosh. All true. My catch would have been on ESPN's play-of-the-day had we a camera.
I have many stories of being a dad and like I say, the truth is not always pretty.
---------- i type and listen to the blues ---------------
One of the best things about my Cox digital cable bundle is the music on channels 936 and 937, jazz and blues. Like satellite radio they list the artist and I just found someone I might like, Otis Taylor. I'll have to check out this guys music.
---------- nons don't always escape -----------
I've been thinking about the last 25 years 4 months and 19 days years as a dad and wondered why many parents think there's no other path in life. Is it simple biology? Or can they not admit they made a mistake?
Not that I think I made a mistake but given the current parenting job I'm doing .. shrug... The nons may have missed out on some unknown pain so who are we to judge? It's not all ice cream and rollercoasters. Some nons don't entirely dodge the bullet of parental pain. Take Cheryl for instance. My partner lives with me and my schizophrenic son. She's doing a much better job of dealing with James' mental illness than his mother.
Every. Day.
So. This blog and the previous are the opening salvo of posts about parenting, some good, some not so much.
---------- meanwhile, back on the sofa at 3:20 am------------
I know why dad is number one with Michelangelo. I give him the best ear massages. When a dog loses it's nuts in the human effort to control animal population, the ears become his balls. Rub my dogs pointy cropped boxer ears, and you'd think he was having an orgasm. Light knuckles in his ears turns Mikey to mudd. Mike is liquid, he can fit anywhere.
Come to think of it, the same can be said of Cheryl. I give good neck and back rubs, and she needs them. That's why she sticks around. That and the oral sex.