Thursday, September 3, 2009

The Deanery dad epidsode #3

Squawk has once again proven that he is indeed a clone of his uncle and by that a little bit of his Grandpa.
It was your average Mormon Sunday with Mom and Dad trying to find anything for the boys to do besides watch TV and play with electronics or beating each other. In doing so, the book titled The Dangerous Book for Boys by Hal Iggulden made it into Squawk's hands. I don't know if you know of this book, it is a must have for all boys with dads. I can imagine many a Saturday wasted with father and son and this book. It covers topics from Latin and MVPs of Baseball to making paper hats and planes and tying knots.
Squawk was sitting next to me as he thumbed through the book. He looked at many different pages but stopped on this page.

He looked at the gun and asked me, "Daddy, what is that?" I told him in my best Charlton Heston voice. He then went to the next page.

"Daddy, what are these used for?" I explained that they are used to skin the bunny rabbit after you have used the gun to hunt it. Then you eat it.
Without skipping a beat, he turns to his older brother and says, "Monkey, let's go do this to that rabbit at church."
If that doesn't validate his heritage, nothing does. Here's to you "Bud"
Oh and a little P.S. - Bud, your time spent with Squawk is to be monitored at all times until the age of 18.
Post P.S. Come to think of it, I haven't seen that rabbit lately.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

The Deanery Dad Episode #2

It is great to be King. If even for a day. While Ginky was in nursery they helped him draw a picture. The question was, "what do you love about Mommy?" This was the answer.

Great answer right? The only problem is that it wasn't my day to be King, it was her day to be Queen. This was what Ginky brought home on Mother's Day. Sweet little boy.

Monday, June 1, 2009

The Deanery dad epidsode #1

Although the correct answer to the question What is your most honored title? should probably be husband, I favor another, Daddy. (I couldn't be a daddy without the first title, so technically it salutes both parenthood and spouse.) There are many great things about being a father, most of which involve giggling children, getting hit by a ball when you are not paying attention to the latest Orel Hershiser in the house (even better when the wife isn't paying attention) and Vespa rides together.
Today's episode involved a pair of shoes. You see, I was getting ready for work this morning. I was alone in a house that had no obvious sign of life except for slight little whir from from my asthmatic son sleeping soundly on my bed, yet again. I knew my wife had been up till 1 in the A.M. and again at 4 with that same asthmatic kid. Since I figured she was tired I didn't wake her when I couldn't find my shoes.
You have to know that I am anal. I had a mission nick name Anal Boy. I like things clean and I like things in order. Being that way, I have two places and only two places that I put my shoes in 1 of 2 places. Either at the front door or in my closet. This morning I checked both places and there was no shoes. Not at the front door, nor the closet. I went back and forth looking, believing I must surely have missed them. After 10 minutes, and the getting close to the time that I needed to leave for work, I finally started looking everywhere, bathrooms, under beds, behind the sub woofer. All yielded no fruit.
I finally gently awoke the wife and asked her if she knew where my shoes were located. She said, without hesitation, "outside." I turned and looked out the window and about 10 yards apart were my shoes. It seems my 8 year old was told he had to have shoes on to go outside, and he was obedient.
I laughed, put my shoes on and went to work with a smile on my face. These silly things are what make being a dad great.
Thanks, Monkey and good job being obedient, but try putting your own shoes on next time.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

They have friends?

I don't exactly remember what grade I was in, probably 3rd. At that time, my life was very sheltered. My day was very much a routine. I got up at 6 A.M. made my bed, brushed my teeth, enjoyed my cream of wheat which had a condensed milk in it to sweeten it and then sat there waiting for school to start. My foster mom and I walked to school every day. I went through school and then walked home. Once home, I showered, put my pajamas on and was set for the evening. That was approximately 4:45. Then I waited for bed. 8 o'clock, sharp.

Rinse, repeat. Sunday through Saturday.

One day something strange happened. I was invited to a birthday party for a set of twins in my class. (I bought them a deck of face cards.) When I got to their house I noticed a bunch of the kids that were there were really familiar with the house. It was at that time I realized, these guys have friends. Real friends, they hung out, they might have actually even seen each other on Saturday.
It wasn't that I was a total loser, it was that the opportunity never presented itself. I didn't know you could do such a thing. I didn't know that kids met with other kids. As far as I knew, all the kids in my class lived in Rancho Cucamonga (That one is for you Scott! - spell check not activated)
The reason I even mention this is because the other day I got a phone call on my cell phone of all things and I hear a little boy on the other end ask, "Is L*** there?" I let him know that he was not and that I would forward the little guys number to the eldest child and he could call him back.
On the scale of phone conversations the shortest being me talking to either of my wicked sister-in-laws and the longest being my wife talking to my wicked sister-in-laws, these two boys who are obviously like those kids I witnessed at the party, friends, are closer to the wife with said wicked sisters. L*** even got a call this morning at 7:15 asking if he wanted to play on Webkins with him. (online animal community with games) All of the Dibb family would love to watch him talk. He is just like Grandpa. He paces and he paces all over the house when he talks on the phone.
It proves once again, my kids are cooler than I am. Yea for them. Well at least one of them is. I still have hope that K will be my recluse and just hang out with dear old dad forever.
P.S. At least L isn't showing interest in girls yet.