A Dude's Guide. . . to everything

Why God Made Moms

There’s a cute e-mail running around the web lately. Someone sat down a bunch of second graders and asked them a bunch of questions about moms, dads and motherhood. For some reason, not much was said about fathers or fathers who do most of the work of the traditional mom. (And, no, I’m not getting bitter again about being left out. In this case, I’m thinking it’s a good thing.)

Enjoy.

Why did God make  mothers?
1. She’s the only one who knows  where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house .
3. To help us  out when we were getting born.

How did God make  mothers?
1. He used dirt, just like for  the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.
3. God  made my Mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger  parts.

What  ingredients are mothers made of ?
1. God makes mothers out of  clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of  mean.
2. They had to get their start from men’s bones. Then they mostly use  string, I think.

Why did God  give you your mother and not some other mom?
1. We’re related.
2. God  knew she likes me a lot more than other people’s moms like me.

What kind of little girl was  your mom?
1. My Mom has always been my mom and none of that other stuff.
2. I  don’t know because I wasn’t there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.
3.  They say she used to be nice.

What did mom need to know about  dad before she married him?
1. His last name.
2. She had  to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer?
3.  Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to  chores?

Why did your  mom marry your dad?
1. My dad makes the best  spaghetti in the world. And my Mom eats a lot.
2. She got too old to do  anything else with him.
3. My grandma says that Mom didn’t have her  thinking cap on.

Who’s the  boss at your house?
1. Mom doesn’t want to be  boss, but she has to because dad’s such a goof ball.
2. Mom. You can tell  by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess Mom is,  but only because she has a lot more to do than dad.

What’s the difference between  moms & dads?
1. Moms work at work and  work at home and dads just go to work at work.
2. Moms know how to talk to  teachers without scaring them.
3 Dads are taller & stronger, but moms  have all the real power ’cause that’s who you got to ask if you want to sleep  over at your friend’s.
4. Moms have magic, they make you feel better  without medicine.

What does  your mom do in her spare  time?
1. Mothers don’t do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills  all day long.

What would it take to make your mom  perfect?
1. On the inside she’s  already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. Diet.  You know, her hair. I’d diet, maybe blue.

If you could change one thing  about your mom, what would it be?
1. She has this weird thing about me  keeping my room clean. I’d get rid of that.
2. I’d make my mom smarter.  Then she would know it was my sister who did it and not me.
3 I would like  for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on the back of her  head.

From the mouths of babes.

– Richard

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Platypus. Platitudes. Eh, Whatever

So, yeah, my middle little dude had his first heartbreak and the only thing I could hear in my head was an endless loop of time-worn platitudes. I’ve been through a few break ups (mostly on her part, but I’m sure you guessed that already) and I can tell you from experience that hearing “She wasn’t right for you” doesn’t really help when your heart is lying crushed on the floor, pulverised to the consistency of day-old oatmeal that’s been licked up by a mange-infested dog and then excreted onto an offal wagon. Or perhaps I’m exaggerating. By this time it’s a little hard for me to tell.

Anyway, that got me thinking about some of the more, shall we say, less helpful platitudes out there. There’s the mean-spirited versions:

She was a *itch.

I never liked her.

God, did you ever really look at her nose?

Then there’s the conciliatory platitudes.

and I’m not even a fisherman.

Time heals all wounds. (True, but, boy do they hurt while they’re healing.)

You’ll find someone else/better/right for you. (Oh, so my feelings are all wrong this time around? What does that say about my next date?)

In the end, I think the only thing you can really do is what I finally ended up doing: Hug them and let them know that you love them, will always love them and think they’re wonderful.

Now that I think about it, that’s pretty good advice for just about any time. So, where’s my hug?

– Richard

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Ups And Downs

I really feel for my middle little dude. Over the last weekend he’s experienced the highs and lows of teenage romance.

Over the summer, the little dude went to a marine biology summer camp. While there he met a little dudette and, once he got home, they kept up the acquaintance the only they know how: they texted each other again and again. And again. He insisted that she was just his friend, not a girlfriend and I could understand why. She lived almost two and a half hours away from us. Kind of hard to start a new reltionship that way. But they kept at it.

A couple of weeks ago, the little dude played a school basketball game in her hometown. (Yes, his team does travel quite a bit just to find other schools to play.) She came to his game and they got to see each other again. A few days later, he proudly told me the little dudette was now his girlfriend. Two weeks after the game, he asked if we could drive him to a mall that was about an hour away. Turns out, he wanted to go on a date with his girlfriend and this was the best way to split the distance.

I drove the little dude up there, met the girl’s parents and we all decided on when to meet and where to meet a few hours later. The two saw a movie and wandered the mall. Typical teenage date, really. That night I found out he’d gotten a little arm around the shoulder action. He wouldn’t comment when I asked if he’d gotten any smoochies. That was Sunday and he couldn’t stop smiling.

Monday afternoon following school and basketball practice, the little dude got home and got on his texting phone. His girlfriend was no longer his girlfriend. She broke up with him by txt. At first I was aghast, but then I figured that 90 percent of their relationship had been via text so it was rather appropriate. The reason she gave was that she didn’t like the long-distance aspect of their relationship. I can understand that. It’s tough enough to sustain a long-distance relationship when you’re older and more mature. Teenagers? Not so much.

The poor little guy came downstairs and told me the bad news. All I could do was give him a big hug and tell him I was sorry it happened. All sorts of platitudes came rushing to the back of my mouth, but I’d learned from other recent events and I held my tongue. When you’re a teenager, you really don’t need to hear time heals all wounds, you’ll get over it or anything like that. Especially when you’re losing your first girlfriend the day after your first date.

Personally I’m glad, not that I want him to know it. I’d like him to find someone much closer to go out with. Someone it doesn’t take four parents and three cars to coordinate a date with. It’s tough enough being a teenager without having to know your girlfriend is two and a half hours away and you won’t be seeing her for another month. Still, he is resiliant (not to mention quite determined to have a girlfriend, even if only to tell people he has a girlfriend).

Like I said, long-distance relationships are tough. For most people. I was different back in high school. See, I had this girlfriend, you woulnd’t know here, she lived in Canada. . .

– Richard

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