Tag Archives: Pee

Sometimes They Say Yes

Chicago — My middle young dude, Zippy the College Boy, is so over-the-top, face-meltingly hot for cars, it gets sort of scary to walk with him through any big city.

Off in the distance will be some sort of growl or other and Zippy the College Boy will stop dead in his tracks, head cocked like a walking dog trying to identify the rustle in the bushes and deciding if it’s something to sniff, chase, eat or pee on. Not that those are the choices for Zippy the College Boy. He’s trying to identify the make of the car. From just the sound of its engine. Or, if he’s lucky, but the view he gets out of the corner of his eye as it roars past.

So. Cars. He’s in lust with them.

Which makes what happened here in Chicago all the more understandable. We walked past an exotic car dealership called the Perillo Bentley Gold Coast and simply lost Zippy the College Boy. He had to keep using his sleeve to wipe off the window of the store because his breath was steaming up the view, and the drool was making it look sort of runny.

He was in lust. Deeply in lust.

Unfortunately for him, the shop was closed, so he had to content himself with looking in the window. Still, he immediately perked up when his mom and I said he could come back the next day to walk around inside. To which, the next thing he said was approximately: “I need to go get a nice shirt. Something button down and maybe a sport coat. I don’t want them to think I’m some kind of slob. You’ve got to look nice if you want to get into a place like that.”IMG_2042

Not sure where he got that idea from, but it was hard work dislodging it from his head. Eventually I hit him on the noggin several times with my wallet to get across the idea that money talks and it doesn’t matter what it’s wearing. Not that we could afford to buy one of those cars, you understand, but it was the principle.

So we get there the next day and, basically, Zippy the College Boy goes nuts. He took pictures of every single car in the showroom and then started casting covetous glances up the stairs of the place, where he knew there would be even better cars.

Unfortunately, the stairway was blocked with a sign that said, again approximately: no entrance without advance appointment.

He was crushed. He seriously wanted to go up there. “Go on,” I told him. “Ask someone. It can’t hurt.” He refused again and again. Finally, and probably only to avoid hearing me say go on go on go on more, he went ahead and asked.

Lo and behold, he was allowed to go up the sacred stairs and oogle the cars.

All of which brings me to the point of the post and explains the title.

It’s something we need to make sure our little dudes understand. It’s okay to ask for permission to do something. The worst that can happen is you’ll be told no. Just make sure that, if the answer’s no, they don’t keep after it and after it and after it again and again and again.

You’ll never be allowed to do something if you don’t ask.

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Blood Tales: Ball Of Confusion

by Richard

The first thing I remember is crawling around on the floor, bumping my head into things, and having absolutely no idea where I was or what I was doing. I felt dizzy, almost like the ship was trying to capsize and it was all I could do to stay upright. And that was on all fours.

Eventually I made it back to bed and collapsed, exhausted, and immediately fell into a deep sleep. Only to awaken a few hours later in the pre-dawn hours of Friday April 21, having to pee yet again. I remember getting up and heading for the tiny bathroom in our cabin and then, once again, there I was, crawling around on the floor with no idea how I got there.

This time, though, my fumblings on the floor managed to awaken my wife, known to me as She Who Must Ger Her Beauty Sleep Or She Gets Quite Cross. She demanded to know what the hell I thought I was doing. I had no answer. I could only crawl back into bed and, again, sleep.

When the morning broke and we eventually woke up, I still felt like complete and utter horribleness wrapped in a cute, black bow of yuck. So, no, I wasn’t feeling all that good. I mentioned that I thought I’d managed to pass out when I went to the bathroom twice during the night.

She was not amused. She thought it was my fault because, the day before, Sarcasmo and I had tried out some barbecued jerk chicken from a roadside stand in the Grand Caymans. She figured I’d picked up some food-borne illness. Once she got into the bathroom, though, she became a fraction less angry when she saw what had happened.

Apparently, when I passed out one time, I must have been sitting on the toilet. Because I managed to fall forward and — using my face — broke a half-moon shaped section out of the bathroom counter. Seriously. I am in no way exaggerating here. I remodeled the bathroom with my face. Oddly, there was no pain.

I just felt sheepish, thinking I really had picked up something from eating that roadside food the day before. The only problem with that diagnosis was that I didn’t feel sick — no upset stomach — and Sarcasmo had no symptoms at all. I just felt incredibly, crushingly tired. Sarcasmo was fine.

We were docked in the port of Cozumel, Mexico. Sarcasmo, Zippy the Monkey Boy and I had paid for an excursion of powered snorkeling, but we decided to cancel that and just let me rest. So off they went to explore the tourist traps of Cozumel. I stayed in bed, alternately shivering from the freezing cold and then sweating from the heat.

I was doing all right, relatively speaking, until I had to get up out of bed. That, dudes, is when things went downhill.

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Freaky Friday: Bully Brains

by Richard

This is actually kind of scary. We know that being bullied makes for some big-time backlash for the young dudes who get bullied. What we didn’t know until recently is that being bullied also makes some physical changes in the brains of those kids who get bullied.

Yeah, that’s right. Young dudes who get bullied actually suffer permanent changes to the structure of their brains because of the bullying.

If we thought there was a reason to crack down on bullying in schools before, brother, you’d better believe there’s more of a reason now.

They lurk in hallways, bathrooms, around the next blind corner. But for the children they have routinely teased or tormented, bullies effectively live in the victims’ brains as well — and not just as a terrifying memory.

Preliminary evidence shows that bullying can produce signs of stress, cognitive deficits and mental-health problems.

Now University of Ottawa psychologist Tracy Vaillancourt and her colleagues at McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario plan to scan the brains of teens who have been regularly humiliated and ostracized by their peers to look for structural differences compared with other children.

“We know there is a functional difference. We know their brains are acting differently, but we don’t know if it is structural as well,”said Vaillancourt, an expert in the biology of bullying.

According to Vaillancourt, she finds changes to the hippocampus, the area of the brain responsible for memory.

Bullied young dudes have already been found to score lower on tests that measure verbal memory and executive function, a set of skills needed to focus on a task and get the job done. Mental-health problems, such as depression, are also more common.

Come on, dudes. This is ridiculous. We need to have a zero-tolerance policy for bullying in schools that’s actually enforced all the time, every time.  Kids need to feel safe when they’re at school, trying to learn.

I mean, come on. How can you learn if you’re constantly looking over your shoulder, fearing the next push or the next time someone starts name calling?

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