Since Christmas, I've been sporting a full beard (as full as one would grow on my face). It's been keeping my chin warm for over a month, but I've decided to shave it off (okay, The Woo and Boyo have asked me to shave it off—many times). Besides, it's become rather itchy.
Today, I shaved most of it and I think I might must leave the rest. It's a new look for me—I've even slicked my hair back. What do you think?
Check this Bad Boy look:
[This is from Tuesday--me not hitting the "publish post" button again. Yeah, I'm a "back-poster" so what?]
I think I'm trust-worthy. I also think I look trust-worthy and approachable. But I don't really know what others think. I've been well received in this neighbourhood—considering the problems I had in my old 'hood. While walking around, I'm often picked out of a crowd by strangers seeking directions. I'm called upon to assist other parents when in need. I'm ALWAYS around, so it does make sense. But, check this out:
Boyo and I ate lunch at a local restaurant where we met a mother and son sitting a few tables away doing the same. Her son was younger than Boyo, but about the same size and rather friendly. On their way out, the boy came right over to say hello. The mother hovered around our table as her son played and talked to Boyo and me. After a few minutes she asked, "Do you mind if I leave him here with you while I go pay and collect our coats and stuff?"
"Uh, sure. No problem." I said. It felt good that someone would trust me (a man) with their kid, but, at the same time, I thought it odd that a complete stranger would ask this of me—of anyone.
When she returned I noticed a bit of aching and sighing. I realised that she was beat. She leaned on one of the empty chairs and let her son hang with us. She stared off a bit. I gave her son a piece of toast. I've been there. I know how she feels today. Perhaps she needed a breather. (Or a glass of wine!)
When they left, the boy didn't want to go and the mother barely had the strength to fight him. Boyo and I sat patiently, offering assistance with the hat and coat. Dropping words of encouragement and saying good-bye, see you again some time.
After they had left, Boyo turned to me and said, "That was fun, eh, Daddy."
"Yeah, it sure was."
Tagged by b*babbler (I know, like months ago!)
Share seven facts about myself—some random and some weird—that I haven't already divulged, eh?
1. I have never lost my wallet. Never. I've "mistakenly" left it at home when going out a few times; I've left it in the car "accidentally" once or twice, but I've never lost it. Nope.
2. I wear glasses (I'm near-sighted), but sometimes, when I wake up in the morning, I forget to put them on and can go hours before I remember that I can't see very well.
3. I like to wear really flat shoes with no raised heel at all (excluding my arctic patrol winter boots) I find more comfort when I'm closer to the earth. My footwear doesn't make me any taller than I really am which happens to be 1.76m. Four of the SAHMs I hang with are my height or taller. What... I have no issue with that, honest.
4. I won't finish reading a book if I don't like it—no matter how far I get. I do give the book a chance by going a minimum of fifty pages, but after that it could be tossed at any time.
5. I placed third at the inter-school spelling bee in high school. Quite an acheivement, I must say.
6. In the early 90s, I lived in North Bay and entered the Don Cherry's hockey trivia contest. I won and represented North Bay in the provincial championships held in Oakville. I ended up 20th.
7. I mix up my left and right often. When given directions, I prefer to receive cardinal points--I don't mix those up. I even get confused when performing the trick of holding up both hands with each index finger and thumb extended to make an "L"--I'm not always sure which one is backwards.
Holy Crap that was difficult.
I'm not tagging anybody--can't make me.
My son has a uh, well, a healthy digestive system. He loves his fruit and really enjoys the cow's milk--two things with rather different affects to his exhaust. Boyo's fibre intake is superb (we could all do with his diet), but the milk he consumes improves the gases to a devastating level. I believe he might be somewhat lactose intolerant which really promotes flatulence. In short, he's a stinker. My, can he let 'em rip! The foulness that hangs in the air around him is nauseating at best. It's all fair and natural, but what is a boy to do?
Well, just when you thought Boyo was doomed to a life of ostracised stinkdom, a solution has surfaced to help curb those embarrassing moments. A nifty invention of a simple potpourri-like pouch that sits in a pocket sewn into the back of the underpants and filters even the foulest winds. A fresh scent of lavender can now accompany the natural exhaust.
I was thinking of calling this innovation the Fart Filter, but perhaps one of you out there has a less vulgar name. Okay, let's hear it...
