You look like I need another drink

I remember the first time I looked into his steel blue eyes, that crazy blonde hair and those perfectly sculpted cheeks. That was it, that first glance and there was nothing I could do about it. He knew it to, that very first second; he knew I would forever be his.  We could lay next to each other for hours, just taking in each others expressions. I wanted to take in his every breath and memorize his every expression.  I fell deeply, madly in love the first time I laid my eyes upon him.  I knew my time with him would be too short, I knew it would seem like an instant and I'd be left to wonder how it happened so quickly and so I had to cherish it all. There would be many wonderful days, there would be some hard days, but most of all, enjoyment and pure fulfillment. The first time I brought him home to meet my family, they quickly fell for him as I had. He was intoxicating and beautiful and perfect. He was always a charmer, always engaging, even then.
His older brother loved him also, they would spend hours together, laughing, fighting and sharing. He was the second born of three boys.  Three boys who were obviously adored by their mother, three boys who would cause havoc, raise holy hell and charm the pants off a nun. They were very different from each other in many ways, yet exactly the same in many more ways. Three boys, My three boys.  Watching them grow together was the single most fascinating thing I have ever experienced in life.  My three boys, the musketeers, all aptly named after cowboy outlaws.  They were experienced tricksters and wicked spoiled.  I remember days of kool-aid stands, countless football games, school plays, lego's and matchbox cars strewn about strategically placed to trip up even the most skilled of mothers and fathers.

I remember the fighting between brothers, and the alliance of brothers against adversaries. I remember coming home from work one day and discovering that the big purple dinosaur; Barney had been replaced by bodies draped over chairs with cords attached from the television to the video game controllers their hands held.   I wondered how everything had changed so quickly. I remember bike rides and homework and days floating on the river. I remember longing for the days when Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles rocked and girls had cooties.  I remember the horrid, tumultuous teenage years, the rules broken, the laws broken; in some cases, and the girlfriends that were suddenly awesome. I remember triumphs of overcoming issues and obstacles. I remember it all like it was yesterday. It was yesterday.

Today I am praying that the child who was so very small in my arms one day, who means the world to me, who taught me so much, is really ready for the decisions he faces and actions he will be facing.  Today, my middle son, who has grown, in the blink of an eye, is in the process of being sworn into the United States military. Today, as I look into those steel blue eyes, I say, Son, I am proud and humbled at what you have become and today, just today, you look like I need another drink.

The Dryer Incident

Laundry is really not an interesting topic, especially, in my household. As you recall, I’ve mentioned the large quantities of occupants I dwell with, so the sound of a continual washing machine is commonplace around here. Last night, the dryer broke. It just stopped. No more bellowing out the sounds of shoes thudding inside or a zipper clanking. Just call a repair man and have it fixed, you say. End. of. story.

I wish it were that simple.

My Father, "The Bishop" is quite worthy of repairing many things. He has decided he will repair the dryer.
I'm quietly doing some research in another part of the house when I am summoned to the Laundry room. Upon my arrival, I find the dryer is completely disassembled. There is a giant hollow tube in the middle of the room that looks something like a metal barrel without ends on it. This is obviously the spinning device used to circulate the clothes. Even I can asses this. There is also two sides and a bottom of what once looked like a dryer. My father is standing behind the shell of what is left  holding a small black box with some sort of gauge on it and wires extending from it to the dryer. This is a multi-meter I am told. Something to do with measuring voltage or ohms or something. Anyway, he is testing the dryer and needs me to push the button, his hands are full. We determine whatever he is testing is working just fine. He informs me he will be moving the dryer and all of its remaining pieces into the garage, (with the spare refrigerator, I mind you) to continue his exploratory surgery and since "Gadget" has moved in, we can use his dryer until ours is back in service. He'll bring it in from the garage. Great. Case closed.
This afternoon, I walk out into the garage and find "the bishop" hunched over sandpapering his dolly. (a two-wheeled device used to move heavy objects). Without word, I look around and the garage has been transformed into what appears to be a surgical room for a junkyard.

Against my better judgment, I ask, "what are you doing, dad"


“What does it look like I'm doing!  I'm sandpapering rust spots off my dolly.”

“What about the dryer?”

“The dolly has to be painted before It can be used to move the dryer.” 

Again against my better judgment, Why?

“Well. because. it. looks. bad.”

(This is where I really show my stupidty).

"So does the dryer, now."