The apple doesn't fall far...



This last weekend was a busy weekend for out little family. I started Saturday morning doing a few "guy" errands. The truck needed to be inspected and it needed new tires. From there I went down to get a pedicure, or as my blog buddy Wreggie calls it, "Foot Detailing."

OK, I'm a manly man as much as the next guy. I always had my ideas about the types of guys getting pedicures. Yeah, I'm sure THOSE guys get them also while they are getting their manicures. The difference is that I don't get pink polish on my toes...

Let me tell you, this pedicure was something special. After the toe treatment, leg massage, and foot massage, she did a hot stone massage on my legs and feet. At some point after that, I had each foot in a plastic bag filled with hot wax, a hot moist towel wrapped around each leg, and she was giving me a shoulder massage. Oh, yeah, I'm going back there again.

After all of that, I came crashing back into reality by going refrigerator shopping.


So, we're all in Sears checking out the refrigerators. Jonathan is in a buggy. (Shopping cart for the Yankees reading). Matthew is keeping him entertained near where we were looking at the fridges with the salesman. At one point, Shelly and I went one aisle over to check out one more model, and I walked into a cloud. It wasn't me, that much I was sure of.

Of course, being the amazing husband that I am, and because Shelly had not already blamed me, I asked her if it was her. Well, not exactly. I blamed her. The salesman wasn't on that aisle, so it was just us. And this was an adult sized cloud. She took offense at the mere insinuation that she had ever farted at any time, much less in public. It was then that I realized that my 2 boys were a few feet away, quietly playing with their toys (Jonathan still in the buggy, Matthew still right next to him).

I asked Matthew if he had tooted. He smiled.... He KNEW it was a good one.... No doubt, that boy is DEFINITELY my son.

About that time, the salesman was coming around one end of the aisle, and I beat a path around the other side with the boys. I don't think Shelly ever realized why I walked back around the corner, or what had happened. All I know is that the salesman entered the cloud, and the kids and I were gone, with just Shelly left within his sight...

Poor girl, I don't know how she puts up with me.

Lions & Tigers & Guns, OH, MY!

A little while back I was ready one of those "Mommy Blogs". You know the kind. Same as mine, but written by a woman and talks about all of the cute crap their kids do. On second thought, not much like mine at all. My kids are cute, but that stuff isn't nearly as funny as when they crash and burn and prove to my parents that I'm getting exactly what they said I had coming to me.

Anyway, the subject of this blog was GASP guns in the home. Or more specifically, guns in other people's homes - because guns were evil and the blog author would never have such dangerous stuff in her house. The question was about asking friends parents if they had guns in their home before allowing their precious little children to go over there to play. Hilarity ensued in the comments. It's been a while, but here are paraphrases of the typical replies:

I would NEVER allow my child to go to a home that had guns in it...

If I knew the family, I MIGHT allow it, but I would want to know where all of the guns were, and I would want to know that the guns were in a locked room, inside a locked safe, and with trigger locks installed, and the ammo stored in a separate locked container in a separate locked room.

etc, etc...

Are you friggin KIDDING me?

Here are my thoughts...

It's none of your dang business if I have guns in my house. If you are going to let your kid come to my house, you either trust me to watch your children or you don't. If you trust me, then that's all there is to it. If you don't, it doesn't really matter what is in my house, does it? In that case, that's why Chick-fil-a has a play room. Our kids can play together while we have our chicken and sweet tea.

Seriously, to me a weapon is similar to an alarm system. If it is in my home, then it could be here for protection. Maybe I'm paranoid, but personal protection is just that, PERSONAL. I wouldn't give anyone the details of my security system, so why would I tell them where my stuff is and how it is secured? Give me a little credit. I have little kids also. My kids LOVE to find stuff. The love to play with what they find. Do you really think I would endanger my kids? Give me a little credit here and trust that I'm a responsible adult.

As far as the question about if I keep loaded guns around... As far as you are concerned, if I have any guns - not that I do - they are ALL loaded. C'mon, that's the first rule of gun safety. Treat ALL guns as if they are loaded until you prove otherwise.

I have to say that so far we've never been asked. If I'm asked, I'll politely decline to answer the question. If they can't accept that I consider it a private matter, so be it.

Anyone have any thoughts to share? Anyone think I'm a fool and want to tell me that? I can handle it.