Man, was that a long soccer tournament! Okay, so I haven’t written in a while. No excuses. Sorry. But in case you’re new, between my job and driving my kids everywhere and making ends meet and lying to my wife that she has nothing to worry about, I’m a busy guy! I know, I know, so are you. This isn’t a competition. But if it was I’d win. I would catch you up, but I won’t for two reasons. One: Why would I do that to you. And two: I don’t want to relive it. So let’s just say that happened, and now here we are.
Tomorrow my family and I are taking a road trip. We’re going to Palm Springs for three nights and I’m looking forward to it so much I may cry. And the family, as a whole, has pure intentions. We’ve all agreed not to bring computers. Now for me, this is easy. But for my kids? Are you kidding me? Do you have teenagers? If they can’t email or Facebook or video chat or Skype, well, then, what will they do?! I doubt they even remember how to interact with people face-to-face. But I am very proud of them for agreeing to this. Okay, my wife insisted, but I think secretly the kids like the idea. Or I’m just deluding myself like always.
It’s the texting that will be hardest for them to live without. My god, the other day, I, the hater of texting, texted my daughter. This wouldn’t be so bad except that I was downstairs and she was upstairs. But in my defense, I was sitting in a chair and I didn’t want to get up. Because when you get up people say, “Hey, as long as you’re up would you…” And I don’t want to do that thing, whatever it is. So I texted my daughter from my chair. And here’s another reason. I hate the yelling from downstairs to upstairs. Despise it. It is always frustrating and upsetting. Because no matter how loud and clear you yell something, the response is always the same. It’s either a “WHAT?!” or silence. Which begets anger and then you end up going upstairs anyway. So that’s my texting defense. And I’m rambling. So I’ll just go pack for our trip. Or maybe I’ll text my wife to pack for me. Yeah, that’ll go over big. Then she can yell downstairs at me and I’ll yell “WHAT?!” I’ll let you know how our trip unravels after I get back. Is that a bad attitude?