Thursday, May 21, 2015
May 2015
7th grade is coming to a close. Straight A's and GPA over 4.0 are the norm. To say I am a proud Papa would be putting it mildly. Things have changed a lot for both of us the last year. Lique has matured and is becoming a wise young woman. I still enjoy those fleeting moments when I can just sit and watch her and be amazed at how she has changed. God willing we are preparing her for a 6-day trip to the East Coast for 8th grade next year. Washington DC, NYC and Boston are the cities she will be visiting. I have never been to any of them so I am excited for her to have a chance to make this trip. We have had some rough days but having each other and her big sister gives us the strength we need on a daily basis. Big Sister is headed off to Chicago for college in a couple months. These two girls are such amazing people and I could not be prouder or happier to have them in my life.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
7th grade
The start of 7th grade is a mere week away. Lique will a member of the ASB for the first time. As usual our summer was short and sweet. Got a couple beach trips in and a few movies. Nothing super special but plenty of mew memories and pictures. And lots and lots of stories told by her. Parents, I know I try to keep this light hearted but for a moment I am going to get serious. When your child begins to tell you a story give them your full attention. Mute the tv, put your phone down, turn away from the computer or whatever you are doing. This is the foundation of communication you are helping them build. If you do not give them the attention when they have a story to tell you about their day or their friends you are not teaching them what they need to know inside to effectively communicate.
Back to normal. As Lique was telling me a story a few days ago she used the word "boobs". My 12-year old little innocent girl said "boobs'. Time to start cleaning the guns and put my Clint Eastwood cut out on the front porch with a hidden camera and speaker.
Back to normal. As Lique was telling me a story a few days ago she used the word "boobs". My 12-year old little innocent girl said "boobs'. Time to start cleaning the guns and put my Clint Eastwood cut out on the front porch with a hidden camera and speaker.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Quick wit
Here we go again.....
Lique and I were talking about a little girl with her doll and how cute she was.
I said "You use to be cute, what happened."
Lique says "I'm sexy now."
I said "I have raised a monster."
Lique says "I'm a fabulous monster!"
Once we got home she brings clothes to hang in my closet, hangs them then realizes they are her clothes, not mine and says "What a waste, I have accomplished nothing."
Lique and I were talking about a little girl with her doll and how cute she was.
I said "You use to be cute, what happened."
Lique says "I'm sexy now."
I said "I have raised a monster."
Lique says "I'm a fabulous monster!"
Once we got home she brings clothes to hang in my closet, hangs them then realizes they are her clothes, not mine and says "What a waste, I have accomplished nothing."
Monday, October 21, 2013
Shampoo the Starfish is the name of my new band!
Here's
how these things happen. Lique and I are driving home having another
one of those Youtuber conversations where I really have no idea what she
is saying but being a good father I listen carefully in case there are
any words I understand being spokeded by her. Somewhere in the
conversation she mentions a starfish and I'm like "Yay I know what a
starfish is!" Then she's talking about Sea World as a place to see
starfish but instead of saying Shamu she says Shampoo. Hence Shampoo
the Starfish is the name of my new band!
Doesn't it all make perfect sense now? No? Welcome to my world.
Doesn't it all make perfect sense now? No? Welcome to my world.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Rules for dating my daughter
RULES FOR DATING MY DAUGHTER
Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.
Rule Two:
You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.
Rule Three:
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.
Rule Four:
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.
Rule Five:
It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."
Rule Six:
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.
Rule Seven:
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight:
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.
Rule Nine:
Do not lie to me. On issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.
Rule Ten:
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a Black Hawk chopper coming in over a san hill near Mogadishu. When my PTSD starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is me.
Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.
Rule Two:
You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.
Rule Three:
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.
Rule Four:
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.
Rule Five:
It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."
Rule Six:
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.
Rule Seven:
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight:
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.
Rule Nine:
Do not lie to me. On issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.
Rule Ten:
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a Black Hawk chopper coming in over a san hill near Mogadishu. When my PTSD starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is me.
Monday, April 22, 2013
The Artist
I finish dishes and walk into the front room where The Artist is hard at work.
Daddy: "Are you painting my table?"
Lique: "No, do you want me to paint it?"
Daddy: Uh, no!
Lique: "Then why did you give me that suggestion?"
Daddy: "It wasn't a suggestion, it was a question."
Lique: "No. it was a suggestion."
Daddy: "Are you painting my table?"
Lique: "No, do you want me to paint it?"
Daddy: Uh, no!
Lique: "Then why did you give me that suggestion?"
Daddy: "It wasn't a suggestion, it was a question."
Lique: "No. it was a suggestion."
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