I woke up on the couch this morning.
Not because I passed out last night from martinis and definitely not because I’m in the doghouse.
The lovely Ms. Hazel is visiting this weekend from her kingdom west of Mannheim Road. Her brother, the witty middle child joined her on a weekend visit to the town nestled in the woods along the river.
Three bedrooms, four beds and the king of the castle sleeps on the couch. I love my couch, but it isn’t from Walter E. Smithe. It is perfect for watching a ballgame or sharing a bottle of wine with a hot mom.
Not so good if you want a comfortable night sleep.
Fritz has two beds in his room. One for him and one for his baby sister.
“We don’t have to share a bedroom at mom’s house!”
Upon hearing this infamous quote, the Oldman started sleeping on the sofa during visitation weekend.
And what makes it even worse is the process it takes if I need to get anything out of MY room during nighttime hours.
I need a code, a secret handshake, a password and a second code. I won’t be surprised if Hazel shows up with a fingerprint door latch sooner than later.
“Hey George? I need you to install this security system on dad’s bedroom door.”
I don’t know what is worse for me?
Not being able to grab my wallet that I left on the dresser or becoming an Old Gross Ogre?
Being an ogre means that I’ve lost being able to do daddy’s bedtime chores.
No more back rubs.
No more bedtime stories.
… but worse of all!
I don’t get to sing “MoonRiver,” “Rainbow Connection” and “Time after Time” (Tony Bennett not Cindy Lauper) to my daughter anymore.
I sing these songs to Betty the Green Blazer every morning on the drive to work….
…Just so I remember the words and I won’t sing off key on that day when my daughter might want to get the band back together?!?!
The couch really isn’t that bad.
There is a night lite for the late trip to the pisser. The television is there if I want to watch an old episode of “The Honeymooners” and it gives me a perch to see who gets up in the middle of the night to raid my icebox…
…George!!!
Oh and if George sees me on the couch, he thinks it’s a night time information booth.
“Hey dad? Are you awake? It’s a Friday night… can I stay up late? Are you awake?” at 10:11pm
“Can I have some popcorn?” at 11:37pm
“Dad, when was the last time we went to the train museum?” at 12:51am
“Can I have the last Klondike Bar?” at 1:27am
and finally around 1:57 in the morning…
“Dad? Dad? Dad? Hey dad, I can’t sleep, where is the melatonin?”
Someday, someday soon in their young lives. Their dad won’t be sleeping on the couch.
Dad sleeping on the couch will be a distant memory of comfort and security.
A memory I don’t have. A memory that I don’t have because Don Shepley sure as fuck never slept on a couch for me!
If you see me today and I’m walking down the boulevard with a crooked gait… just say hello and don’t ask me if I’m injured.
Today is chocolate éclair day!
I’ve talked about my love for pies, my love for coffee cake, my love for donuts and my love for cannoli's,
But by far, my favorite dessert is an éclair. Éclair is French for “Flash of light.” Probably because once you take that first bite, the rest is gone in a flash of light.
Oak Park Bakery has my favorite chocolate éclair. One, because it is damn good. Two, because a Chocolate Éclair from Oak Park Bakery holds fond memories.
Treat yourself to an éclair today. Buy an extra one and drop it off at a friend’s house.
Nothing makes a day brighter than having a friend stop by unexpectedly to hand you a small box wrapped with string.
I love doing shit like that for my people!
Anyway…. It’s the first weekend of summer. It’s going to be another hot somabitch and it’s a perfect day to be astonished!
Powder your thighs and have a glorious Saturday.
