Bedtime Stories

Last weekend, Jersey slept with Gram (my mom) while her mother was partying with me and my friends. She was scared of the deer antlers on the wall, so to keep her mind off it, she and Gram made up bedtime stories.

Jersey: Once upon a time, there was a little brown dog named Brauny. And he was a pissin-on-the-floor, poopy shitster. He made poop piles everywhere with poop cherries on top. Your turn to tell a story, Gram.

Gram: Okay. Once upon a time there was a beautiful girl named April. And all the boys wanted to be her boyfriend.*

Jersey: And she had a very, very, very, very, very beautiful dress. And she was gonna go to the ball!

Gram: When she got to the ball, all the boys wanted to dance with her.**

Jersey: (gets ornery look, narrows eyes) But she couldn't dance with anyone. She couldn't even hug 'em cuz ... (evil look on her face) ... cuz her arms were too short!

*Obviously a fairy tale.
**Obviously.

Reason #4,381 I don't have a boyfriend

A few weeks ago when either Kristen was coming to visit me or I was going to visit her, I wrote in the email "See ya son!" I meant "See ya soon," but it spawned a phase where we've begun referring to each other as father/son.

Here's a conversation via Gmail chat from today. I was commenting on K-Lo's Gmail status, where she'd written "happy birfday april!"

Me: Awww, thanks for changing your gmail status just for me!

Kristen: Any time, son. Any time.

Me: You're a good dad. I don't care what anyone else says.

Kristen: I try my best, son. You know I couldn't always make it to your basketball/hockey/tennis games, but I was there in spirit.

Me: You were indeed. And the times you were there, well, you were drunk and obnoxious, sometimes even cheering for the opposite team. But I knew you meant well.

Kristen: I get confused sometimes, son. The crack doesn't help either.

Me: I told you to buy a belt.

Kristen: But you know I'd only whip you with it. That's why I only wear suspenders.

Me: True. You're always thinking ahead, Pop.

"I'm not together, but I'm getting there."

Life goes by fast. Ten years ago I was a sophomore in college. I was majoring in English literature, with no real plans for a career other than triumphantly exclaiming "I want to be a writer!"

I spent my spare time reading. I avoided homework. I had a mad crush on a boy I'd nicknamed Hot Boomer.

Fast forward to 2008.

I still want to be a writer, and though I do belong to a writers group, I avoid doing the work for as long as possible. I spend all my spare time reading (with the occasional Guitar Hero). And this summer I bumped into Hot Boomer (still hot), resulting in a renewed crush.

I guess that old adage is true: The more things change, the more they stay the same.