Top 10 Things I Freakishly Enjoy

Yesterday I pulled up to the gas station to piss away even more money to “the man.” I did my usual dumping of my car garbage, then grabbed the squeegee and started cleaning my windows.

Completely soaked in 22-day-old non-soapy water, my windows were ready to be squeegeed off. As I slowly pulled that first line of water off I felt the day’s tenseness go away. The second line I felt even more relaxed. By the time the entire windshield was done I felt like a badass and the entire day’s insanity slip away!

OK, not that good, but damn it was a weird spooky kind of relief.

I got back in the car completely freaked out by myself and thought, “that’s just one of those uncommon satisfying things in life that you just kinda secretly enjoy.”

So what are 10 other weird and spooky things that satisfy which I probably shouldn’t reveal?

1) Wiping down the bathroom sink so it’s absolutely spotless. Little dinky hairs, puddles of water, toothpaste globs, boogers…you name it. They collect in the most bizarre places of the sink. Taking my wet hand and cleaning it down is therapeutic in a freaky way.

2) Armor Alling my car dashboard. Seriously…when it’s done and the smell is in the car…I just want to put Led Zeppelin Physical Graffitti in the CD player, go for a ride with the windows down and blare the hell out of the radio.

3) Lawn dances. I won’t lie…I love them. Give me a wedding, eight beers, a shot of Jager, a good song and a dance floor and I’m in heaven. I’ll be doing the “lawn mower” and “weed eater” all night.

4) Speaking of weed-eating…creating perfectly trimmed grass along sidewalks and boarders makes me literally need to take a cold shower afterwards. It’s lawn maintenance porn.

5) Crossing the finish line of a half-marathon race. It’s indescribable. You’re happy, elated, sick, exhausted, motivated, and humbled all at once.

6) Turning my fan to the number 3 setting and sliding my dumb-ass into bed.

7) After 12 minutes of digging, cutting, digging deeper, and almost giving up, finally pulling that damn splinter from your body.

8) Holy shit do I love corn on the cob. The greatest thing ever invented. But damn those stringy annoying thingies that jam ever so strategically in-between your teeth! So when a toothpick slides one of those out from in-between my fucked-up teeth it’s so amazing!

9) Sliding a key along the spine of a new music CD to cut the cellophane that wraps it. Pulling it off, opening the case and the smell that tickles your nose of the freshly printed CD jacket and all the awesomeness it holds.

10) Clipping that annoying toenail. You know…the one that sticks out ever-so-slightly so that it rubs against the toe next to it and makes you want to rip someone’s head off?! Yeah…smoothing that bad-boy out is so freakin’ awesome!

That’s it for today’s freak-show. That’s just a few of my weirdness that is o-so-satisfying in a “daddy, you’re weird!!!” kinda way.

What’s yours?!!! Leave a comment.

If I Were A Parental Crack Dealer

“Daddy!!! I can’t go to sleep!!”

Holy mother of all things that make me want to slam my head in the door…that one ranks up there near the top.

Every time the wifey and I hear that, our first response is to pound the pause button on the remote of whatever mindless insanity we’re watching, look at each other and drop our heads in that position that screams “are you fucking kidding me?”

We quickly draw straws (or actually the wife gives me that look like “you better take your ass up there chump!”) and  I make my way upstairs to explain to the children that “daddy has no magical pixy dust to toss in the air allowing my sweet SWEET children to fall patiently and quietly into slumber land.”

This is often met by, “aaawwww come on daddy…my eyes don’t want to shut!!!”

Or, “But it’s not night time yet!!!”

Or my favorite, “can’t I just have dinner?”

As if I didn’t just spend the past hour fighting them to chow their nighttime morsels.

Wouldn’t it be fantasticly awesome if we, as parents, had nighttime flakes allowing anyone we sprinkle them on to experience an eight-hour blissful sleep?

It would be the parental crack we’ve all been searching for.

No longer would Friday nights be filled with fathers surrounding grills, wives sipping wine and laughing in a corner while the kids destroy house and home.

Instead wives would be sipping wine and glaring at their watches like hawks as husbands flocked to their favorite dealer in the hopes of scoring even a dime-bag of the “I Cant’ Sleep Daddy” dust.

Parental mobs would storm the streets burning down businesses and taking over governmental positions to make sure “I Can’t Sleep Daddy” dust was considered “medicinal.”

Then “clicks” would form along the school playground as parents divide themselves amongst “those who have kids addicted to the ‘Sleepy Daddy’ dust,” and those who simply kiss their parents on the forehead, thank them for providing them with the greatest life ever, and nod quietly off to sleep.

Eventually all hell would break loose on the football field as the favorite quarterback, who according to Susan is a “Daddy Dust” user, throws the game-losing touchdown and suddenly it becomes a city-wide school board issue.

Actually, now that I think about it…it’s not worth it. I guess I’ll just stick to the old fashioned parental rhetoric of explaining to the children that daddy’s only magical power is to piss off their mother in 2.1 seconds flat.

And, I’ll save the magical sleeping dust for myself.

I Sleep Naked

Grab your puke buckets kids cause it's true.

I sleep naked.

Call it being sexually hopeful mixed with trying to be comfortable and add a dash of hating to wear clothes and walla! You’ve got a 35-year-old douche with back-hair his wife won’t shave for him who occasionally gets sweaty-ass syndrome when he’s nervous sleeping like a neurotic bear.

I remember in college when my roommate used to go home for the weekend I double and triple checked the door to make sure it was locked, slid out of my boxers, climbed into bed, and dozed off into slumber land with a huge stupid grin on my face.

When the wifey moved in with me I spent a few months being hesitant about revealing my love for sleeping naked.

“What if she thinks I’m gonna try and molest her in the middle of the night and gets all Lorena Bobbit on me?” I thought.

Shortly after, I dropped trou and never looked back.

Then we had kids.

When they were babies all was good. They had no idea at 2:16 a.m. as they screamed and cried while I changed their diaper and the wife dropped a boob in their mouth that daddy’s ding-a-ling was swinging free.

As wee toddlers they’d come in the bedroom but were too small to actually make the long-distance journey to the peak of the bed which gave me ample time to do a pillow tuck and cover.

Then…they got older.

This past weekend I woke-up and followed-through with my religious morning routine which encompasses time alone kidless and wifeless as they lay slumber above my head. A couple hours later as the wife came to life she said, “you really need to start wearing underwear when you sleep.”

I was all, “over my dead body woman!”

“Well, your daughter came into our bedroom last night and you were laying buck-naked on top of the sheets, on your back, with your entire package presented for the world and your daughter to see. And she saw… She saw it all.”

And that’s when it hit home. Sure there’s the occasional turn the corner while daddy’s getting out of the shower and see a split second of his pecker before the towel blocks the horror. There’s the walking in while daddy’s just finishing pulling up the undies and seeing a milla-second shot of his ass before boxer-briefs do their job.

But nothing. NOTHING. Is like the scaring of a young girl sleepily walking into her parents’ bedroom at 2 in the morning and finding her father counting sheep with his “sheers” laying flaccid for the world to see.

Well…I guess the only other worse scenario is if she caught her daddy actually using those “sheers” on mommy.

So chalk-up another long-loved comfort gone out the window. I now sleep clad in cotton and am none-to-happy about it.