Old Before Our Time

The Cold, Gray Dawn of the Morning After

2010-06-22T17:20:00.000-07:00

So last week I went to my company's annual regional meeting. I used to take pride in my youthful vigor while I mingled with the ancient ones who were my colleagues. And then...well, I think you can guess where this is going.

It all began with my semi-annual haircut. Because I am cheap, I let my hair grow out until I look more like Chewbacca than a dignified husband, father and grandfather. Then, when I can't stand it anymore, I go to the most inexpensive barber in town and ask him to cut my hair as short as possible.

I came out of the shower the next morning and noticed that the light was playing off my wet head in an unusual way. Had my barber given me highlights when I wasn't looking? Hmm. On closer inspection, the highlights were nothing more than blonde hairs--very blonde hairs. In fact, some people might describe them as gray. Where the hell had they come from? They couldn't be mine.

So I went off to my annual meeting with somebody else's gray hairs and watched in horror as the year's new employees paraded across the stage. When did we start hiring 12-year-olds? And how is it that I know more of the recent retirees than I do the new employees? Apparently, the economic meltdown hurt us more than we realized. That must be the answer. The only other possibility is entirely unacceptable.

The mystery deepened when I realized that the company culture is changing, too. A number of the crew went out to a sports bar to watch game 7 of the NBA Finals. Did they not understand that the proper thing to do is to avoid the noise and the crowds and watch the game in the hotel room with a beer? And then to turn in early?

I don't know what is happening in this world. Perhaps Global Warming is to blame. Perhaps a secret terrorist attack has caused these unfathomable changes. Who knows. All I know is that I don't like it.

Zombies and Monkeys Don't Mix

2010-05-11T20:58:00.000-07:00

Sometimes in life, a man does what he wants. Most of the time, a man does what his wife tells him to do.

Last spring, while I was in the throes of a major love affair with Left 4 Dead, I worked hard to convince my daughter that she should dress up my frickin' adorable granddaughter as a zombie for Halloween. I was making good progress, too. I promised my daughter that I would let her choose my costume if only I could make up her daughter as one of the rabid undead. Imagine how cute my one-year-old granddaughter would have been as a rotting, animated corpse.

I emphasize "would have been."

My wife--because this is what my wife does--was browsing online for costumes when a brilliant flash of insight struck her in the forehead and knocked her off her chair. "I've got it," she cried. "Curious George. The Granddaughter can be Curious George for Halloween."

Now I like Curious George as much as the next 40-year-old male, but my world was suddenly spinning out of control. My hard work was going down the drain. The hours spent convincing my daughter that the little one would be sooo adorable in a zombie costume were now simply wasted time. It was clear to me from my wife's tone that our granddaughter would be Curious George for Halloween.

That meant, of course, that somebody had to be the Man with the Yellow Hat. Hmm, I wonder who she had in mind?

The brim of the hat sagged, and the "boots" were big, black floppy pieces that tripped me up whenever they got the chance. Plus, after half a block, the temperature within the suit climbed to about 400 degrees. The surface of the planet Mercury would have been more comfortable. The things I do for my wife. And my granddaughter.

Fortunately, she is as adorable as a monkey as she is as a human baby, so people were too busy oohing and ahhing over her to pay much attention to the yellow monstrosity that was holding her hand. At least a few people did recognize us as George and the Man with the Yellow Hat, so our acting was passable. Nevertheless, it was not what I had expected while I nagged my daughter to death about dressing up as zombies. Come to think of it, I did feel a little undead on the inside while wearing that costume. The pictures below will show you how frickin' adorable that girl was.

The night wasn't a total loss, however, because I did get to show off The Granddaughter to the neighborhood. And I stole most of her candy. (Don't tell Granny!) Plus, thanks to some chewy green stuff, by the end of the evening, she did look something like a zombie. That's some consolation.

Has It Really Been Six Months? I Hope Somebody Stopped by to Feed the Dog

2010-05-04T22:35:00.000-07:00

Hello, is anybody there?

It has been more than six months since our last transmission, and I suppose that all the people who used to follow this blog regularly have long since passed into the Great Beyond. Either that, or your uncaring children have dumped you into a nursing home to live out your remaining days without a drop of beer. So I guess that means I should offer a hearty welcome to the uncaring children and selfish grandchildren of our former readers!

You may have heard from your elders that Granny and I have the most frickin' adorable granddaughter around. To recap, when she first arrived in the world some 18 months ago, she looked like this:Then, on her first birthday, around the time of the last post before this one, she looked like this:
Now, six months after her first birthday, she looks like this:Yes, yes, I know what you're saying to yourself right now. "She's more frickin' adorable than ever. Boy, that Gramps can really teach 'em how to be cute." And she's smart, and she's curious, and she really loves her grandpa. That last one may have something to do with the fact that I'm the only one who lets her drink beer.

So what's the problem, you ask?

I'm not really sure how to begin. A heck of a lot has happened over these past months, and the whole story would fill up two whole Internets, even if I used a 4-point font. So let me start with this...neither the granddaughter nor her mother live with us anymore. I am as conflicted about their moving out as I was over the whole idea of being a grandfather in the first place. Two weeks ago, the two of them moved into an apartment about an hour and a half away from us. The Daughter now has her own space and her own freedom, but no furniture. AND SHE'S GOT MY GRANDDAUGHTER!

Of course, every parent wishes for this day, when the little ones will finally tumble out of the nest. I want her to live her own life on her own two feet, mostly so I can use her room as a shrine to the Xbox 360. But I also want her to be a whole, healthy and happy human being, and I hope that she is ready for that. There's also the thing about missing my granddaughter, which strikes me as an odd sensation for a man who generally detests people.

Right now, we have the little one for a few days, but until yesterday, I hadn't seen her in two weeks. I have to say, that was worse than going without beer. It was a wonderful feeling, though, when we finally did see her. The Daughter was carrying her along the path toward us, and when they were about twenty yards away, she put down her daughter. When The Granddaughter recognized Granny, the baby ran--she RAN--toward us, shouting for joy all the way. It put a smile on my face and made my...what's that thing?...you know, that thing in the middle of your chest...right, my "heart"...it made my heart feel all warm.

So we have her for a few days, and it is really nice to have her here. Soon, though, she'll go back to her mom, and they will continue to build that life apart from us. That's right and the way it should be, but damn! I don't always like it that way. At least I still have Granny by my side, and two other children to drive me crazy, and so I'll try to appreciate them as much as possible until they move out. (Note to Drama Queen and Xboy: PLEASE MOVE OUT!)

I'll fill you in on the other traumatic events of the past six months (including a disaster of a yellow hat and some Christmas zombies) as we go forward. So please stay tuned, and maybe we can all get through this granddaughterless time together. In the meantime, please enjoy one last picture of our 18-month-old wonder:

WWC: "F" and "Altered"

2009-10-27T19:36:00.000-07:00

We welcome you to the First Birthday edition of the Weekly Word Challenge. It could also be known as the "Cake, cake, cake!" episode. But it isn't.

We have been away for a couple of weeks due to illness, general laziness and the necessity of planning The Granddaughter's first birthday party! That's right, this frickin' adorable little girl is now one year old. It's amazing, isn't it. It seems like only 12 short months ago that she was kicking and screaming her way into this not-yet-but-soon-to-be-zombified world of ours.

Our daughter decided to have a simple party for the little one, and Gramps certainly appreciated the rather mild celebration. It could have had a lot more children involved, and you know how the old man feels about snotty nosed brats. There is also a very interesting story to tell about the birthday cake, but we'll leave that for another time. For now, on to the all-birthday edition of the WWC.

F (The Granddaughter ate the cake from her first birthday off the floor.)

Altered (She also permanently altered Gramps' sweatshirt with lots of ground in chocolate stains.)

Bonus Photo (Somebody here looks a little like the cat that ate the canary, eh?)

Unfortunately, there was no cake left or we would share some with all of you. Maybe The Daughter will make a bigger cake for birthday number two. It has been a fun year for Granny and Gramps, and we thank you for sharing it with us. Be sure to tune in next week when we will be sure to have some great Halloween photos. Gramps is pushing hard to turn The Granddaughter into a zombie. Will he win the day? Tune in next week to find out.

WWC: "S" and "Water"

2009-10-14T09:28:00.000-07:00

Another week has gone by, and Gramps has once again been delayed with our WWC Postings. This week, however; Gramps has multiple good reasons ... 1. The Granddaughter has been MIA for the past week (that alone would put anyone in a spiral of depression). 2. The Dodgers have clinched a NLC berth, (bringing the Philadelphia Phillies to LA for a last season rematch). 3. The XBoy had his first HS homecoming formal/dance and 4. Gramps is once again, lying in the bed - sick with the sniffles and a hacking - congested cough ...

Granny and Homemade Vegetable Soup to the Rescue!

"S" is for Sick. The Granddaughter has the Sniffles, Snot and Sneezing

"Water". Nothing like a luke-warm bath to ease the aches and pains.

"Bonus Picture" The Granddaughter is Lovin' on Her Sick Papa

From Gramps, Granny, The Granddaughter and The Rest of Our Family - Thank you for spending the 1st Year of Our Adorable Apfelpfankuchen's Life with Us ... Enjoy some cheeks on us!

WWC: "Warmth" and "Depth"

2009-10-06T19:58:00.000-07:00

We're back on schedule for this week's episode of the Weekly Word Challenge, sponsored by zombie Tink and Jay. Unfortunately, no one has tried to blackmail us this week, so we don't have anything for which to apologize. That will mean low ratings for Old Before Our Time. Again. But we thank you loyal viewers for tuning in to see more of that baby goodness known as The Granddaughter. This week's words are "warmth" and "depth."

Warmth (Granny and The Granddaugher sharing a warm, tender moment.)

Depth (Somebody got deep into the cabinet beneath the grandparents' sink.)
Bonus Photo (This one cracks me up every time I see it. The Granddaughter looks so terrified. It's sort of a Home Alone look.)

We know you have many sources on the Internet for cuteness, and we appreciate your business. Please tell your friends and family about us--even the ones without computers. We'll be sure to give you the best baby photos apfelpfankuchen cheeks can buy. Au revoir.

WWC: "Favorite Quote" and "L"

2009-09-30T13:32:00.000-07:00

We may be a day late, but we're right on the money for this week's edition of the Weekly Word Challenge, brought to you by the ghost of Tink, hauntings for all occasions. Since it's my lunch hour, and I'm in a hurry, let's get on with it, shall we?

Favorite Quote ("It's time for Dodger baseball!" --Vin Scully)

L (L is for the light that bathes The Granddaughter while she helps with housework.)

Bonus Photo ("I have a headache, Granny.")

Thank you for your patience with our tardiness. We promise to do better next week, but if we're late, it's Granny's fault. Have a moderately tolerable week.

WWC: "Go Green" and "Square"

2009-09-22T18:57:00.000-07:00

Hello? Is anyone there?

Yes, it has been a long time, hasn't it. And we have some perfectly good excuses. We've had lots of drama with kids. Our granddaughter was MIA again for many, many days. Granny has been dealing with some pretty rotten chronic illness. Gramps had a virus. Then he got just plain lazy.

And Mafia Wars. Yes, there was that, too.

But we're back. I can see from your blogs that lots has been happening with you, too. Before we go any further, everyone please go congratulate Cate on her new frickin' adorable baby! We're very happy for you. We're also terrified for you. It's a kid, and it's yours. All yours. You and Nate will make great parents.

Our own grandchild has been standing and taking her first tentative steps. She will be eleven months old tomorrow. She is still, of course, the most delicious apfelpfankuchen in the world.

Now on to the most recent edition of the Weekly Word Challenge. You may recall that the last time we spoke, Tink had been snuffed by a zombie alligator, and she was hosting the WWC from the heavens. Jay is her avatar on this plane, though some think he is a heretic. I am still awaiting further evidence, such as his turning water into beer.

We've skipped several weeks of the WWC, but we're back on track for "Go Green" and "Square." Thank you for your patience.

Go Green (The Granddaughter just loves to recycle.)

Square ("Grandpa, can you help me put this square into the right hole?")

Bonus Picture #1 ("I don't wanna go!")

Bonus Picture #2 ("HEEEELP me, Grandpa!")

Thanks for still being here, Internet. We love you. Please stay tuned, and I can assure you that next week--on schedule--we'll have more baby goodness just for you.

WWC: "D" and "Green"

2009-08-25T19:54:00.000-07:00

Welcome back, friends! After last week's travails, I'm sure you wondered if we would ever go to print again, but here we are. Don't let anyone ever tell you miracles don't happen, because they do. As bad as it was two weeks ago, last week was so good that it made up for it and then some.

My first complaint was that I was number 218 on the wait list at the library for Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Well, it just so happens that my birthday was last week. My dear, sweet wife sensed my sadness and sent the kids out for my present. I was truly surprised to unwrap that very treasure for which my soul had been longing: Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, of course. That was miracle number one.

Miracle number two means that you are safer tonight than you were last night. Yesterday I killed more than 600 zombies because the newly repaired Xbox 360 had arrived! "No way!" I can hear you exclaim. All I have to say to that is "Yes way."

Add to that a wonderful birthday dinner with my family, a granddaughter who is still frickin' adorable and the fact that the ghost of Tink sent us new words for this edition of the Weekly Word Challenge, and things have been pretty peachy at the old homestead. And now, on with the show.

D (The Granddaughter visited the ducks (and geese and seagulls and pigeons and grackles) at the pond.)

Green ("It's not easy being green.")

Bonus Picture ("Cigarettes are like money in here, Grandpa.")

That's it for this week, loyal readers. We look forward to a great week of destroying zombies (that is if Granny doesn't kill the TV after another frustrating Dodger loss), eating apfelpfankuchen cheeks and enjoying the tail end of another summer. We hope you have a good week and will be back to join us for another installment of the WWC. Drive safely, and don't feed the inmates. Bye until next week.

WWC: "West" and "Favorite Story"

2009-08-18T18:20:00.001-07:00

After a rough week, including a dead Xbox and a long wait list at the library, we were soothed by the dulcet sounds of our frickin' adorable grandchild who is learning to scream. Sometimes she'll do it just for the sheer joy of screaming. Or because she wants what you have (like beer) and you won't give it to her (or at least not enough to make her drunk).

We did, of course, get some photographs of our blubbery bundle of sweetness. And, since Tink is now somehow communicating to us from the Great Beyond, we're still getting words for the Weekly Word Challenge. Hooray for ouija boards! Enjoy the pictures.

West

Favorite Story (Guess How Much I Love You)

Bonus Picture ("Grandpa, I think somebody messed up your clothes.")

That's all for this week, Superfriends. I hope you have enjoyed this week's edition. Please tune in next time when we hope to have even more mug shots of Gramps from that regrettable incident in 2002 involving a can of orange soda, a brick and a police cruiser. Really, it was all one big, hilarious mistake. Barring that, we'll have more photos of The Granddaughter.

Have a great week!

Night of the Living Granddaughter

2009-08-12T11:05:00.000-07:00

This has been a bad week.

You probably felt a disturbance in the Force when our Xbox 360 was stricken with the "red ring of death." It is a hardware issue that required us to mail our system in to the Microsoft repair center in Texas. The machine is due to arrive there tomorrow. I track the parcel hourly. Xboy and I are wearing black armbands until it returns home.

Also, just as disturbing is the fact that The Daughter received her learner's permit yesterday. She has been begging me to let her drive me in to work. Ever since I saw that piece of paper from the DMV I have been hyperventilating. I also have a strange pain in my chest and my left arm is numb. Also a massive headache. Yes, she is 18 and a mother, but this is California, and about 90% of the drivers out there have the skill level of a used Q-tip. I'm not ready for this.

In other rotten news, I placed a hold at the library for Seth Grahame-Smith's Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, a mashup of Jane Austen's novel and zombies. I am number 218 on the list. Looks like I'll get to read it about the time I become a great-grandpa.

The last piece of bad news is that there are no Weekly Word Challenge words for this week due to recent events. There will be new words next Tuesday, so tune in. I forgot to post a bonus picture last week, so I'll post one today. This is one of my favorite shots of The Granddaughter. I call it "I Want Your Brain." She is going to make a great zombie someday.

WWC: "H" and "Fade"

2009-08-04T17:37:00.000-07:00

It is with mixed emotions that we present this week's episode of the Weekly Word Challenge. On the one hand, we get to show off pictures of our frickin' adorable granddaughter. On the other hand, we say farewell to our indomitable host Tink, who has ridden off into the sunset. Adios amiga. We'll see you again in that great Pickled Meat Eating Contest in the Sky.

And now, on to the words of the day...

H (The Daughter is getting help from Xboy as she changes a diaper.)

Fade (The Granddaughter is starting to fade after a long day.)

That's all for today. This little girl is growing up fast and learning to get into everything. Pretty soon we'll have photos of walking and then riding a bicycle and then getting married! It's all happening too fast. Make it stop!

At any rate, we'll see you again next week. You can look forward to either more photos of The Granddaughter or pictures of my ingrown toenail. We aren't sure yet.

A Weekend at Grandma and Grandpa's

2009-07-26T10:03:00.000-07:00

Yes, the Granddaughter (and Mommy) are home from the very long two-week vacation to Ohio! Granny picked them up from the airport late Tuesday night, was greeted with hugs and kisses from the Daughter and the Granddaughter's face lit up with joy and the feet started kicking to be rescued from the dreaded carseat. (Who can say "no" to those adorable brown eyes and chubby, edible cheeks??)

Almost immediately, the Daughter wants to spend the weekend with her Girlfriend - leave on Friday, home on Monday. (Mind you, the same girlfriend who just spent two weeks in Ohio with her ...); but being the GREAT mommy that I am - I drove her the two hours north and drove two hours home (with the Granddaughter)!

Yep, Gramps and Granny have had the Granddaughter all weekend - and we are doing what Grandparents do ... Pizza, Beer and Dodger Baseball on Friday night (she insisted!) ... again, Pizza, Beer and Dodger Baseball - with just a few bites of Frozen Peach Yogurt on Saturday night (again, HER choice!)... and today (Sunday) we are going to play in her pool, watch Dodger Baseball - drink a few bottles ...

... and spend THREE hours cleaning the crib, baby bedding and carpet in the nursery! You see, when Granny woke up this morning - she checked on the Granddaughter sitting and playing so peacefully in her crib - went to the kitchen to start her cereal/fruit and when I came back ...

The Granddaughter had removed her diaper and threw it onto the light tan carpet - BUT not before she had removed the "dirty" contents and smeared it all over her sheets, the crib bumper, stuffed animals and not to mention her hair, neck, fingers and toes ... remember people, this is a baby with rolls and rolls and more rolls!

It's time for the Daughter to come home, NOW!!

WWC: "Half" and "W"

2009-07-22T19:47:00.000-07:00

She's home! She's home! She's home! She's home! The Granddaughter is finally home from her two weeks in Ohio, and only a day late for our Weekly Word Challenge submission. This week's words are brought to you by the slumping Tink, who almost took a picture this week. She was that close. The words are "Half" and "W."

Half (Half a baby--who is finally home!)

W (Playing in the water with her great-grandmother in Ohio. She also appears to be wearing a bulletproof vest...just in case. Or is that a suicide bomber's vest? With her great-grandmother, you never know.)

Bonus Photo (This is another shot from her trip to Ohio. She has eight teeth now. Can you believe it?)

Next week we will share more baby goodness just as long as we can tear ourselves away from nibbling on her apfelpfankuchen cheeks just long enough to find the camera. Thanks for joining us. Have a great week, and give Tink a hard time for being a slug.

The Vacation Chronicles

2009-07-19T10:09:00.000-07:00

Granny, Xboy and I spent the last week staying with my parents in the home where I grew up. I enjoy being there for several reasons. The first will be obvious when you see the pictures--there are no people anywhere to be found. Also, my parents have coffee ready when we wake up, and the fridge is usually well stocked with beer. A people-free zone with ample coffee and beer is about all I need.

Except my granddaughter. She is still in Ohio with her mother, and they won't return until Tuesday. Poor, poor Gramps.

The following photos were taken in the front yard, where my brother and I spent many summer hours playing Wiffle Ball. The house is at about 6,000 feet elevation, and the tallest mountains in the pictures are about 14,000 feet. (That's a little more than 1,800 and 4,200 meters for those of you who use the dork-tric system.)

The first shot is looking to the west.

The next photo looks across the valley to the east.

Mostly, we relaxed, played cards, watched baseball on T.V. and read. (I finished a wonderful anthology called The Living Dead, for those still searching for the perfect summer book.) We did take one day to go fishing at the lake in the photo below. The action wasn't so hot, but we did have the place mostly to ourselves. Granny, as usual, burned her nose to a crisp.

Regarding the fishing, I need to tattle on Granny. I hope you all can shame her into displaying proper manners. You see, she completely violated the terms of the "you catch 'em, you clean 'em" rule. As usual, Gramps had to clean her fish for her. The things I do for this woman!

Granny and I arrived back home yesterday, but Xboy stayed up an extra week. Barring any happy accidents (like winning the lottery) I return to work on Tuesday, so I'm trying to relax and savor my last two days of freedom.

That reminds me. If you have a winning lottery ticket you'd like to send to me, just speak up in the comments section. I'd be eternally grateful.

WWC: "O" and "South"

2009-07-14T05:15:00.000-07:00

The show must go on! Despite the fact that the frickin' adorable Granddaughter is in Ohio, we are able to bring you the Weekly Word Challenge on schedule thanks to the photographic efforts of The Daughter. Our sponsor Tink (miniature fairy by day, alligator zombie by night) has provided us with a word and a letter for your viewing pleasure: "O" and "South." Enjoy.

O (The Ohio State University, for those of you who are into that limp-wristed Big Ten stuff.)

South

Bonus Photo (At the local park in muggy central Ohio.)

That's it for this week, race fans. We still have another week to go with no granddaughter around to make us smile and give us delicious apfelpfankuchen cheeks to eat, but we're surviving. In fact, Granny, Gramps and Xboy are off visiting California family as you read this. Maybe we'll show off some cool pics from Gramps' hometown when we return. This is Gramps, for Granny, signing off and heading for a beer. Have a great week.

I Hope I Don't Get in Trouble for This

2009-07-10T16:53:00.000-07:00

Since The Granddaughter is away and there is absolutely nothing else to do, it is the perfect time to let you into our world a little deeper. Granny and I may live rather ordinary lives, but that doesn't mean there isn't anything interesting to share.

Here are some ten interesting facts about Granny to delight and amuse you:

She prefers her soda without ice.
In order to locate Granny in a crowd, I look for children. She will be nearby.
If possible, she would go barefoot every day of her life. I had to convince her to wear shoes to our wedding.
Granny has never finished the last bite of a meal or the last drink of a beverage. Ever.
If you ever need help, Granny will be there for you.
She likes the Los Angeles Lakers, but hates Kobe.
The minute I get myself settled in bed, Granny will inevitably ask--very sweetly--if I would please get her a piece of fruit, some dessert or something to drink.
Granny's favorite summer snack is tomatoes and cucumbers with salt, pepper and vinegar.
She enjoys walking along the beach looking for sand dollars.
After more than eight years, Granny's dark brown eyes still have the power to enchant me.

There's more, of course, but this will have to do. Dinner is ready and the baseball game is coming on!

WWC: "Blue" and "Happy"

2009-07-07T05:54:00.000-07:00

Granny and Gramps welcome you to the saddest ever edition of the Weekly Word Challenge, sponsored by Pickled Beef, your supplier of Madoff-free financial products and services since 2009. Why is this the saddest ever edition of the WWC? By the time you read this post, The Granddaughter will have been abducted by her mother for a two-week trip to Ohio without Granny and Gramps. How can we be expected to survive for so long without that delicious baby goodness?

This is the most heinous crime since the Yankees stole Babe Ruth from the Red Sox in 1919. I am sure you share our pain. And with that awful announcement, on to the pictures of the week.

Blue (Bleeding Dodger Blue)

Happy (Celebrating Mom's graduation with a tasty banana.)

Bonus Photo (Climbing on the luggage that, in a few hours, would be loaded on a plane and winging its way to Ohio. *sniff*)

That, my friends, has been the Weekly Word Challenge for July 7, 2009. We laughed, we cried, we gummed a banana. Wish The Granddaughter a safe trip, and pray that nothing so horrible ever happens again. Until next week, this is Gramps, for Granny, saying, "Goodnight, and if we don't make it, go on without us."

WWC: "6" and "Look Up"

2009-06-30T18:56:00.000-07:00

Greetings, Earthlings! Welcome to the 4th of July Edition of the Weekly Word Challenge. Our fair hostess, Tink, has passed on two patriotic words/phrases for your viewing pleasure. As a special treat, we will also be including the first ever photographs of The Granddaughter. I know you've been dying to see her, so here she is!

6 (As always, she is fascinated by beer. You're never too young to learn.)

Look Up

Bonus Photo #1 (She is completely exhausted after her mother's graduation celebration.)

Bonus Photo #2 (Remember the box that so fascinated her?)

Thank you for joining us for WWC this week at our little ol' blog. Please join us again next week when the theme will be either "okra" or "a frickin' adorable little girl."

WWC: "C" and "Wood"

2009-06-23T05:34:00.000-07:00

It's Tuesday, which means it is time for another exciting episode of the Weekly Word Challenge, brought to you by Tink, purveyor of all things pickled. If you are pregnant, nursing, or think you may become pregnant, please use caution when viewing these pictures. The extreme adorability of The Granddaughter has been known to cause injury and death in laboratory animals.

C

Wood (Bats, tables and coasters, oh my!)

Bonus Photo ("Can Viper come out and play, Granny?")

We have come to the end of another exciting episode, and we thank you for inviting us into your home or workplace. (If you are reading this from work, you'd better get back to business before you get your behind fired.) Please come back to see us next week for our special tribute, "Odd Things The Granddaughter Has Put into Her Mouth."

Who Needs a Little Red Wagon?

2009-06-21T21:07:00.000-07:00

The long graduation party weekend is over, leaving us exhausted and ready for a long nap. Unfortunately, The Granddaughter insisted that we pull her around in a box for the entire evening. We took turns, but she outlasted us all.

She is definitely a little girl who knows what she wants and will stop at nothing to get it. I pity her future spouse. At least she'll be frickin' adorable.

It Is Finished

2009-06-19T08:48:00.000-07:00

The graduation ceremony is done! Our little girl has finished high school. Whew. Now can we kick her out of the house?

Our daughter was chosen to give the inspirational speech, and she is standing at the podium in the photo below. Isn't she beautiful? She did a great job on the speech. Her main point was that life isn't always the fairytale we want, but even if we make mistakes, there is still an opportunity to turn things around and have a bright future. We're proud of her. She must take after Gramps.

We had a mild celebration at The Cheesecake Factory with family, and we'll have a slightly more raucous time at a barbecue on Saturday.

And, as always, The Granddaughter was frickin' adorable. She was quite proud of her mommy. Here she is, eating a delicious shoe.

I hope y'all are having a good week.

WWC: "A" and "Favorite Song"

2009-06-16T18:27:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the Not-Ready-for-Prime-Time Edition of the Weekly Word Challenge, brought to you again by Tink, the woman married to a future hairdresser extraordinaire.

Why are we not ready for Prime Time, you may ask? I blame Granny. She has been obsessively and compulsively working on the Daughter's graduation tribute video. The hours spent on that project left us little creative energy or time to get our WWC photos up earlier in the day. Those of you in the East will probably enjoy these a day late. I'm not sure how the time zones work for those of you who live in some foreign land, though I'm surprised you poor souls even have Internet connections at all. Either way, enjoy.

A

Favorite Song ("Rubber Ducky" as made famous by Ernie from Sesame Street.)

Bonus Photo (From around Easter, as evidenced by the bunny and extra-girly dress.)

We'll be celebrating with the Daughter the rest of the week, so you may or may not see us around much. Granny promises to be a gracious host for all our graduation guests, and Gramps promises to drink a lot of beer so he can pretend that our guests never showed up.

Have a great week, and join us for next week's WWC which will feature shots of a wildly drunk Gramps telling friends and relatives to get the hell out of his house.

WWC: "Three" and "Lean"

2009-06-09T07:33:00.001-07:00

Gramps is sick (has been since Thursday), so once again - this is Granny picking up the pieces - (I'm such a good wife)! Please forgive my lack of creativity with the commentary, my skills are with images ... thus ... This week we bring you The Grandaughter featuring:

"Three"

"Lean"

Be sure to wish Gramps "Get Well Wishes" - Granny needs him to get better really soon, The Daughter (aka The Mommy) graduates from HS next week and we are expecting 35-40 people over for a Celebration!

How Do I Love Thee?...

2009-06-03T21:12:00.000-07:00

...Let me count the ways.

#47 You surprise me with beer.

The first ever week Granny and I ever spent together, she brought me a beer, and I hadn't even asked for it. That's the moment I began to wonder if she was indeed "the one." She was, of course.

If you've not ever had any Metolius beers, you must make an effort to try some. It is a Portland, OR brewing company, and this is their Dolly Varden India Pale Ale. All of their brews are top notch. So is Granny.

Thanks, dear.

WWC: "Yellow" and "In My Purse/Wallet"

2009-06-02T07:32:00.000-07:00

Greetings and welcome to the All Baby Edition of the Weekly Word Challenge. This week's episode is brought to you by Pickled Beef, where our motto is "At least one of us is working." In a stunning development, the words of the week are actual words and not strange, alien symbols. Enjoy as The Granddaughter struts her stuff.

Yellow

In My Purse (Granny's purse, mind you.)

Bonus Photo (The Granddaughter with Granny's new 'Betty Boop' roses.)

That's all there is to share this week, folks. We thank you kindly for joining us and wish you a very happy week wishing you had a grandchild as adorable as this one. And remember to cover your mouth when you cough.

Tap into the Taste of Grampatio

2009-05-28T06:52:00.000-07:00

A while back, alert reader LVGurl noticed that Gramps looks suspiciously like the Tapatio guy. It is true that the face on the Tapatio bottle looks oddly Scotch-Irish and not at all Hispanic. One of my colleagues saw the resemblance a few years back and gave me a bottle. It now sits proudly on the bookshelf in my office.

Let's start with a couple of comparison photos. The one on the left is Gramps, and the one on the right is Mr. Tapatio in all his glory.

I have decided that the Tapatio people ought to hire me to do some extra PR work for them. I could put on a sombrero and fake moustache, and show up at parties and sporting events. What do you think? I'd rather get the Dos Equis job, but I have no resemblance to The Most Interesting Man in the World and, frankly, I'm not very interesting.

Anyway, here's Gramps as the Tapatio man. I think it could work. They could even rename their product "Grampatio."

WWC: "T" and "Not What They Seem"

2009-05-26T16:46:00.000-07:00

Greetings and welcome to another super cool edition of the Weekly Word Challenge, brought to you by Pickled Beef, the top name in pig racing since 1973. This week's words are "T" (which, come to think of it, is a letter) and "Not What They Seem" (which is a phrase). Perhaps Tink is a little unclear on the concept.

Nevertheless, Granny, Gramps, The Granddaughter and Xboy went on a mountain retreat this weekend, and we got some frickin' adorable shots to match anything the WWC can throw at us.

T (Here is The Granddaughter with the Teens at the camp. One of those young men is Xboy.)

Not What They Seem (Drink up, little one!)

Bonus Photo #1 (Not our cat. Gramps hates cats.)

Bonus Photo #2 (The Granddaughter is getting ready to grab that cat by the tail. Did we mention that Gramps hates cats?)

We hope you enjoyed this week's WWC. Keep those cards and letters coming with your suggestions, and tune in next week when we'll present a photographic essay describing 15 different ways to skin a cat.

WWC: "K" and "Metal"

2009-05-19T07:36:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the Homebrew Edition of the Weekly Word Challenge, brought to you by the Pickled Beef Pub and Brewery. Tink stumped Gramps this week, but Granny came through with flying colors. Her creativity and skill with the camera gave us just the right shots. (But next year, Tink, no letters! Please.)

K (Are those bottle kaps?)

Metal (and lots of it)

Bonus Photo ("The Granddaughter drives hard to the hole...up and in with the left hand...and she's fouled!")

Whew. I'm exhausted. Thanks to Granny, we got this WWC post off in time. Please be sure to join us next week when we'll bring you more photos of the frickin' adorable Granddaughter surrounded by a sea of wine corks and baseball gear. This is Gramps--for Granny and the baby--saying good night, and don't forget to tip the old man.

Lesson Learned: Read the Label and Use the Dictionary

2009-05-13T07:12:00.000-07:00

Since Granny and I have an unnatural obsession with The Granddaughter, you might think that she is the only child in our lives. We do have three others living at home: The Daughter (mother of our grandchild), Drama Queen and Xboy.

Yesterday I took Drama Queen to the family doctor to look at a scrape on her middle knuckle that just wasn't healing. After a bit of investigation, the doctor concluded the wound wasn't healing because every time a scab formed, Drama Queen would pick it off. She was under the impression that if she did that, she wouldn't get a scar.

You see, Drama Queen is deathly afraid of scars. She is afraid they will make her less than perfect physically. She is still under the impression that a young woman should strive for physical perfection. I wonder where she got that idea. Do you know where she might have gotten that idea, America's Next Top Model? How about you, Cosmopolitan? You, MTV? Thanks for screwing up my daughter's image of her own body, you jerks.

The doctor had given her some antibiotic cream several weeks ago for the cut, and now he added an antifungal. With the Drama Queen, if two creams are good, three are better. She found a third one in her bathroom that promised to shrink tissue (scar tissue, perhaps?) and provide relief from itching, burning and discomfort. So, in an attempt to remove the offending scars, she rubbed the stuff on her knuckles, and up and down her arms and legs to remove all the residual scars that a young person accumulates over the course 16 years.

She emerged in the living room and Granny said, "What the hell is that smell?"

"My cream."

"What cream?"

"This," she said, and handed the tube to Granny.

The Drama Queen doesn't particularly like school. She detests reading. Therefore, she didn't carefully read the words on that tube of ointment she had just slathered all over her body. But even if she had, it is possible she would not have known what "hemorrhoidal ointment" is really for.

She does now.

I think that when it is time for my speech at her wedding, I'm gonna tell that story.

WWC: "Arch" and "Purple"

2009-05-12T18:34:00.001-07:00

Good day and welcome to another exciting episode of the Weekly Word Challenge. This edition is brought to you by Tink, just back from yet another booze-soaked cruise. The words for today are "arch" and "purple." Can you imagine the words she would have given us if she had been sober?

Arch (That cowducken is her favorite water toy. So fascinating.)

Purple

Bonus Photo (Aren't Granny and The Granddaughter so frickin' adorable?)

That's all for this week's star-studded episode. Please tune in next week for more pictures designed to make you vomit with joy.

Later this week: the proper uses of hemorrhoid cream. Don't touch that dial!

She's Alive!

2009-05-11T10:33:00.000-07:00

I often use the phrase "frickin' adorable" on this blog. I also use it in real life when playing with The Granddaughter. Yesterday, I said aloud how "frickin' adorable" my granddaughter is. Except I didn't say frickin'. I said that other thing. Yep, on Mother's Day. My bad. What could I do? She is that adorable.

But now, your requests have been heard, and it is my honor and privilege to present to you my f**ckin' adorable granddaughter's worldwide video debut!

WWC: "Bokeh" and "Heart"

2009-05-05T07:07:00.000-07:00

It is WTF at WWC this week. Tink has run out of actual words and is now making them up for the Weekly Word Challenge. Nevertheless, The Granddaughter strutted her stuff, and we got some great shots. If pictures of cute babies make you vomit, you may want to skip to something more appropriate for you. On to the baby goodness...

Bokeh (Yeah, we had to look it up, too.)

Heart

Bonus Photo ("Right back at ya!")

This week's episode has drawn to a close, and we thank you for joining us. This is Gramps, for Granny and The Granddaughter, saying good night, and drive safely.

Gramps Speaks; the World Listens

2009-05-04T10:23:00.000-07:00

Xboy and I cranked up the Eagles' "Hotel California" yesterday. Thanks to Guitar Hero, he has learned to enjoy classic rock. Hearing the song again reminded me that it is, hands down, the greatest rock song ever. After listening to more of the Eagles, you have to wonder whether they might be the most talented group of musicians since the first human being thumped a hollow log with a stick or whistled beneath the stars. I'll leave that up to debate, but not my prior assertion. "Hotel California" is at the top.

Because you look to Gramps to tell you what to think, I'll give you a short list of other bests. Feel free to debate these with me, but know that you will be wrong.

Best Sport Baseball. This is not only a sport, but also a way of life, a quasi-religion. It mimics life, and its history, heroes and statistics set it head-and-shoulders above any other sport.

Best Beer Stone Brewing Company's India Pale Ale. Pale ales are the crown jewels of beer, and this IPA has strong flavor, but is perfectly balanced. If you want to get on Gramps' good side, send me a case of Stone's IPA. Really. Do it. Today.

Best Season Spring. Spring just beat out Fall for the title.

Best Flu 1918. This powerful strain beats the swine flu to a pulp.

Best Snake California king snake.

Best Meal Made by Granny Meatloaf. Granny makes tons of good stuff, including vegetable soup, chicken and dumplings, and greens, but my favorite is her meatloaf. She's also not afraid to try new things. She has added many new favorites to our household over the years.

Best Movie Line "Inconceivable!"

Best Novel Ernest Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls. I first read this in my 30s, and have ever since cursed fate that I discovered it so late in life.

My list has many more items, but I need to deliver it in small doses because the sheer genius might blow your mind. In the meantime, pack up that beer and be sure you use lots of styrofoam. We wouldn't want to lose a precious drop now, would we?

My Silver Lining in a Very Dark Cloud

2009-05-01T13:39:00.000-07:00

This past week has been hell!

Gramps left me home alone with two teenager girls and a 6 month old teething (yet frickin' adorable) baby, while he went off galavanting in the sunshine and waves of San Diego. He would like everyone to think that this was an unavoidable convention with his business collegues and that he would be stuck in a hotel room with an old geezer who is more talkative than what he can handle in a year; let alone 7 days, but Gramps - Granny is on to you!

I know about those 7 cases of beer stashed away in the trunk and under the passenger seats of that speed racer going down the 405 at 65mph. I know about the basketball shoes and your favorite 70s shorts that you tried to sneek into the glove compartment; even though we BOTH know you are TOO OLD to run up and down a court like you were back in high school. And yes, dear - I even know about that old, ratty, worn out catcher's mitt that you grabbed from the garage ... the one buried between all of your baseball cans from who knows how long ago.

Let me tell you kind ppl what happened while Gramps was away. 1. Some of my health tests came back ... more abnormal than what we'd like. I'm not dying or anything, but I do have to make some minor health changes. 2. The Daughter had a really bad day at the dentist office, starting with two teeth that needed fillings and ending in 48 hours of pain and tears. 3. The Drama Queen whined more than normal - about anything and everything, and wants to know WHY she can't have the new pair of shoes sported by the US First Lady ... costing $540.00! 4. The Xboy catulpulted to me off to Timbuktu in a rubberband slingshot, leaving me to die a slow and painful death by waterboarding. 5. I was left speechless on Wednesday when one of my favorite Idols was left standing in the bottom 3 ... 6. Our LA community joined the world, worrying about whether or not the Swine Flu has infiltrated our school systems. 7. I attempted to start the Twilight Series - three times - I don't get the excitement ... and the list goes on and on and on!

However, in the midst of all this downpour - while on my home from a cookie run the other night, I passed this 35-40 year old man riding down a CA hill on a skateboard. Strapped to the front of the board, with cargo straps ... is a case of beer. Because the stars were out and traffic is going fast in both directions - I slow down and let this man continue his ride ... right into the back of a parked pick up truck!

Hurry home, Gramps! In addition to the most adorable Granddaughter in the world, a teenager daughter who wants a pair of $540 shoes and a yard full of dog crap ... Your loving wife misses your twinkling blue eyes and loving hugs! Oh yes, there's a case of beer left in the drive way with your name on it!

WWC: "R" and "Angry"

2009-04-28T07:00:00.000-07:00

This week's edition of the Weekly Word Challenge is brought to you by Beer, the answer to every question ever asked. Tink, our diminutive host, has given us two fine artistic concepts for our photographs: "R" and "Angry". Let the fun commence.

R ("Arrgh!")

Angry ("My mean old mommy won't let me have beer!")

Bonus Photo (That's right, ladies and gentlemen, those are teeth.)

That concludes this week's WWC fun. Please tune in for next week's episode when Gramps and Granny will provide the first ever clear photographic evidence of Bigfoot. Or just more pics of The Granddaughter.

WWC: "Home" and "Door"

2009-04-21T13:31:00.001-07:00

Although Tink is back from her stay at the rehab clinic, the words for this edition of the Weekly Word Challenge come from Jay over at Cynical Bastard. It has been hot as Hades here the last few days, so the photographers were as creative as belly button lint. At least The Granddaughter is still frickin' adorable, and her cheeks are still juicy.

Home ("Welcome to my home.")
Door (This is the front door of The Granddaughter's home.)

Bonus Photo (Thousand-yard stare)

I know Ansel Adams is spinning in his grave after this week's effort, but you can't win 'em all. Please stay tuned for next week, when The Granddaughter and her servants (er, grandparents) try to redeem themselves.

In other news: WHAT THE HELL?! It is only April, and sun has turned up the heat to "August with a Death Wish" over here. We looked like roadkill after we had all plopped down in front of fans on Sunday and Monday. Even pouring beer down my shorts didn't help.

In other other news: WHAT THE HELL?! We all had dentist appointments this week. We learned that our family has about $2,000 (that's about 12 Euros or $6.50 Canadian) worth of dental work ahead of us. Hooray for us! Sharp instruments in our mouths!

Living in a Cave Has Its Advantages

2009-04-16T15:54:00.000-07:00

I am not a "people person." I generally do not like talking to people or hanging out with people or being friendly. I much prefer being a curmudgeon, and if I can do it in an isolated cave far from others, so much the better. And why not? About 95% of all the problems on this planet are caused by people. The rest of the problems are caused by cats.

Granny is definitely a people person. She loves to "communicate" and keep in touch with people. The worst part, however, is that she really loves kids. Granny really enjoys having kids around--even ones that aren't ours. I suppose that speaks to her kind heart and generosity. "Isn't that one of the reasons you married her?" you might ask.

I suppose you're right. But you have to admit that my point of view has some merit. In fact, I have compiled a list of an even dozen reasons why we should all shun people and become hermity curmudgeons. (I just made up that word--hermity.) I'm sure you could add twelve more reasons of your own.

1. People drive like idiots. (Otherwise known as "Get off your damn phone and watch the road!")

2. People let their dogs run off leash in clearly marked areas so their spoiled pets can nip at my heels and trip me up while I am running.

3. People do not clean up after their dogs.

4. People expect you to share your beer.

5. Maury Povich. This industrial-strength douche bag barely qualifies as a human being. I do not respect him or anything he does. He exploits the pain of others for his personal gain.

6. People at the beach are too lazy to carry their nasty garbage four feet to the trash can.

7. The San Francisco Giants.

8. People dreamed up the brilliant idea of unsolicited telemarketing and door-to-door sales.

9. Certain male people play on the fears and affections of young women for their own gratification, and then have the audacity to think they shouldn't have to accept the consequences.

10. People created decaffeinated coffee. Come on now, people. You might as well just shoot me in the face.

11. Dick Cheney.

12. Soy wheat gluten hot dogs. Only a human being could create such a travesty.

Since I am sure you are now inspired to make your way into a cave in the desert, I have only one word of advice: stay the hell away from my cave.

WWC: "P" and "Favorite Movie"

2009-04-14T16:10:00.000-07:00

Since Tink is in a drunken stupor this week, Jay is hosting the Weekly Word Challenge. His blog, Cynical Bastard, is a tribute to Julie Andrews and The Sound of Music.

P (Hooray for strained peas!)

Favorite Movie (You've Got Mail may not be our favorite, but it has special meaning to Granny and Gramps. We'll explain in a future blog post in a week or so. Or never.)

Bonus Photo

Bonus Bonus Photo

This concludes this week's episode of the Weekly Word Challenge. Please tune in next week when The Granddaughter does something so adorable that the United Nations Security Council condemns her for gross violations of the Warsaw Adorability Treaty of 1953.

On Wearing the Pants

2009-04-10T08:23:00.000-07:00

Earlier this morning...

Granny: What do you want for Easter dinner?

Gramps: How about pork roast?

Granny: No, ham!

Silence.

Granny: I mean what sides do you want?

Gramps: Do I have a choice?

Granny: Maybe.

What Happened When Granny and Gramps Tried to Run Away

2009-04-08T11:10:00.000-07:00

Granny and I attended a wedding on Catalina Island this past Saturday, and since our 8th wedding anniversary was late last month and Granny's birthday was Monday (happy 39, old lady!), we decided to stay over a couple of nights. We checked in at a bed & breakfast, and had more than two days with no children. Can you imagine?

Not once during our trip were we awakened to the sound of kids fighting over the bathroom or fighting over the last of the milk for their cereal or arguing with us about their chores. In fact, when we awoke that first morning, Granny and I both thought something had gone terribly wrong. The smell of coffee wafted up from downstairs. The table was set with fresh fruit and granola and yogurt. Someone came in and served us poached eggs. Later, that same person vacuumed our bedroom and cleaned our bathroom. Was this heaven? Was it hell? We couldn't be sure.

Eventually, we gave up trying to understand and settled in to enjoy the sights.

This is the classic old casino at the west end of the town of Avalon.

Another look at Avalon.

This is either an ivory-billed woodpecker or an emu.

By the last day, Granny and I realized something was missing. We wandered in and out of the little shops, relaxed with coffee in a courtyard cafe and drank a few Pacificos while gazing out at the Pacific Ocean before we figured out what was wrong. No Granddaughter. No deliciously edible cheeks. No playful smile and twinkling eyes. So we hopped on the ferry and went home.

Postscript: Can you believe it? An entire post with no pictures of The Granddaughter.

WWC: "Opening" and "Spring"

2009-04-07T10:42:00.000-07:00

It is once again time for the Weekly Word Challenge, brought to you by Pickled Beef, your source for all word-related products and services. Sit back and enjoy the baby goodness.

Opening (The Granddaughter is watching baseball on Opening Day.)

"I hate Jake Peavy and the stupid Padres."

Spring

Bonus Photo (Granny is feeding The Granddaughter cereal. This could have worked for "Opening," too.)
That's it for the Weekly Word Challenge. Please come back soon and see The Granddaughter, more adorable than English babies since 2008.

WWC: "Orange" and "N"

2009-03-31T07:15:00.000-07:00

Today's edition of the Weekly Word Challenge is again brought to you by the makers of Pickled Beef, your supplier for all gourmet pickled meat products. This week's words again allowed The Granddaughter to shine and Granny to display her boundless creativity.

Orange

N (That's right, the letter.)

Bonus Photo ("Granny, you're not gonna believe what just happened in my diaper.")
That's all the time we have for this episode. Please tune in again next week when we will bring you another stunning set of photos of the World's Most Frickin' Adorable Baby (as determined by IntelliChoice, Inc. and viewers like you).

Garden Diary: A Single Step

2009-03-30T11:26:00.000-07:00

Write with your spade, and garden with your pen.
--Roy Campbell

Sometimes I think I like the idea of gardening--and having a neat and sparkling clean garden--more than the act of gardening itself. I do enjoy the work, but I have a hard time getting myself out there. I attribute some of that to the fact that I have a full-time job (for which I am grateful), a wife, three teenage children, and a grandchild. And an Xbox.

I have, however, made progress this early spring. I cleaned up most of the clippings from my massive pruning jobs and have only a neat pile waiting its turn for the green bin. I also prepared two rows of plantings, each about 12 feet long. I put in four tomato plants ('Better Boy'), six bell pepper plants, and several feet of kale seeds.

Progress!

The kale seeds sprouted quickly.

Since I promised Granny fresh tomatoes and cucumbers all summer (she mixes them with vinegar, salt and pepper), I will put in cucumber seeds later today. Granny is so cranky if she doesn't get her garden fresh cucumbers and tomatoes.

I had a delightful surprise this morning when I went out to water. The olive tree had begun to drop pollen and flowers all over my patio. This morning, I was seranaded by the hum of hundreds of bees happily picking over the flowers. The buzzing of bees is one of the most peaceful sounds in the world to me.

WWC - Nature and Black

2009-03-26T12:26:00.000-07:00

Gramps was slackin' this week for the WWC, so Granny and The Granddaughter are pickin' up the pieces. We admit, we don't have the artistic talents or patience conquered by Gramps; but we tried.

Nature:

California Poppies.

Black:

Easter Dress

... and since Gramps always gives a Bonus Photo:

Gramps is doin' some Serious Cheek Eatin'

With a Wife Like Her, Who Needs a Mugger?

2009-03-26T10:19:00.000-07:00

I am worn out. It has been a long week for all of us. We have had visitors and doctors and drama and a host of other time- and energy-consuming busyness. Plus, Granny has been beating me up.

Monday was our 8th Wedding Anniversary. We'll be going away next weekend, so we didn't do anything too spectacular. We went out to dinner with our kids and frickin' adorable granddaughter. That was enough excitement for these two old bodies.

Granny, however, surprised me with a special anniversary gift very early in the morning. I found myself awake at about 3:30, and Granny was stirring in her sleep. Suddenly, without a word, she rolled over, grabbed my forearms and pushed me down on the bed. This was no playful wrestling, mind you. Granny was angry.

I said something to the effect of "what the hell are you doing?" and pushed her off. I held her down for a few moments while she calmed down. When she became still, I tried to ask her what was the matter. She was dead asleep. Through the whole incident, she never woke up. Now I can check off "attacked by my wife in her sleep" to the things that I have experienced in eight years of marriage to Granny.

Granny will concur that our journey together has been rough and rocky, but it has also contained a number of blessings in disguise (including The Granddaughter), a lot of learning and growing, and, through it all, love. After eight years, I can honestly say that I wouldn't trade Granny or our marriage for all the beer in the world. (Or anything else, for that matter.)

Happy anniversary, Granny! I love you. But please stop assaulting me.

WWC: "One" and "Diamond"

2009-03-17T07:39:00.000-07:00

The Granddaughter again brought her "A" game for the Weekly Word Challenge. See the evidence below.

One ("We're number one!")
Diamond (Her first baseball game.)

Bonus Photo That little girl sure does love socks. Dee-licious.
Be sure to tune in next Tuesday for more baby goodness.

Garden Diary: Springtime Cometh

2009-03-16T12:13:00.001-07:00

Spring is less than a week away, but here in Southern California, things grow all year long--especially weeds. We have what is called a Mediterranean climate, which means that it is relatively hot and dry, but the radical swings in temperature are moderated by our proximity to the Pacific Ocean.

Our house is very close to the ocean, so our weather is a little more damp throughout the year, and during the winter, things can get downright chilly. Certainly it is nothing compared to those of who suffer through hard winters, but for us, it is cold. Our average low temperature in winter is about 48 degrees Fahrenheit (9 degrees Celsius). Add to that the cold winds that blow in from the ocean and generally overcast skies or fog, and I usually stay indoors most of the time.

That means my garden is neglected, and by the time the winter rains have gone and spring arrives, my back yard looks something like this:

Two weekends ago, the weeds were a lot thicker and greener, so I hit them with a popular herbicide called Roundup. It is fairly safe, but please don't tell my organic gardening friends! I have also been trimming the olive tree and bananas. That little olive tree is one of my favorite features of the yard.

During the heat of the summer, I can usually be found in one of these two chairs (depending on where the sun is at the moment) reading a book from the local library and drinking a beer. Life is good.

We live in a house owned by my employer, and we live here rent free as a part of my compensation. Otherwise, we couldn't afford to live in a house and would be in an apartment somewhere. Plus, if anything needs repair, it's not our responsibility. Someone else picks up the bill.

Since the summer heat won't hit us until July, I'll probably put in some cool season crops like kale, broccoli or lettuce. In a few weeks, I hope I'll be able to show off some pictures of neat, clean rows of new plants. Or, the yard will look exactly like it does today. It all depends upon how many zombies need to be killed.

The Best Medicine

2009-03-12T08:03:00.000-07:00

I woke up Wednesday with a scratchy throat, and I can tell that I am going to have a rough time getting through the weekend. I'll do my best not to get any of you sick, too, but I can't make promises.

Two nights ago, one of our most anticipated milestones took place. Granny and I were in the kitchen finishing dinner, and our daughter asked us to come into her bedroom. She was on the bed, lying on her back, knees high over her hips, with The Granddaughter resting on her shins.

"Okay, here we go!" chirped The Daughter. She lifted her legs up and forward, and our little apfelpfankuchen slid forward rapidly until the two were face to face. "Whee!" said mom.

And then came the moment. A delightful noise came out of The Granddaughter's throat. "Heh, heh, heh." It wasn't a full blown guffaw, but it was definitely a laugh. Our Baby Boomer was laughing!

I was eagerly anticipating this even before that little girl was born. I remember Xboy giggling and laughing uncontrollably when he was a baby and toddler, and it always brought me deep joy.

Unfortunately, Granny and I spent most of the day yesterday trying to duplicate that laughter to no avail. So far, only The Granddaughter's mother can elicit that happy noise. (I do claim half credit for a single "heh" when I was teaching her the Boomer noise last night: "bluuuagh!")

My two babies: The Granddaughter and Granny

So, I guess I should not be surprised that I am not nearly as sick this morning as I predicted. As they say, "An apfelpfankuchen cheek a day keeps the doctor away."

WWC: "9" and "Desire"

2009-03-10T14:34:00.000-07:00

This week's Weekly Word Challenge words are "9" and "Desire." Fortunately, The Granddaughter rose to the challenge again this week, giving us some good opportunities for photos.

9 (That's her uncle's baseball jersey.)

Desire (Granny's left arm/hand is getting a lot of "face time," isn't it?)

Bonus Photo I walked into the laundry room where Granny was folding clothes. Apparently, she needed a safe place to put The Granddaughter. She found the perfect spot.

The Love of a Good Wife...

2009-03-04T20:31:00.000-08:00

I awoke this morning to the sound of rain on the roof. It was a perfect day to stay in bed. It was also Wednesday, which meant I had to drag my old body out of bed to go to work.

I stretched out my morning routine as long as possible--feeding the fish, drinking coffee, nibbling my granddaughter's cheeks. After a while, I heard Granny say, "There go the trash cans."

I knew exactly what she meant. We live on a hill, and whenever there is rain, our gutters turn into the River Nile at the height of flood. It was also trash day, so the blue recycling can and the black trash can was at the curb. Combine a raging river and large plastic trash cans, and you've got problems.

So far, our bins were safe. We watched some of the neighbors' cans pile up across the street, but ours were holding firm. Then the truck came along to pick up the blue can. As soon as the blue can was lifted out of the curb by the automated claw, the black one (still full of garbage) went sailing down the street like a raft on the Mississippi. Fortunately, it came to rest--upright--against the bumper of a car. The workers were smart enough to put the blue bin down on the parkway, otherwise I would still be chasing the damn thing.

I dashed into the bedroom, threw on some clothes, and went downstairs to rescue our cans. I waded into the flood and hauled the black can to safety. I figured if the claw could put the can down on the parkway, it could pick it up from there, too. So I dragged it through the swamp and put it on the parkway.

I began to bring the blue can back to the garage, but it was missing a wheel. An entire wheel--about 8 inches (3,206 meters for you non-Americans) in diameter--had simply disappeared. Where it went or why, we'll never know.

Then I went back upstairs to the living room where I found dear, sweet Granny laughing at me. I was drenched. She had been upstairs taking pictures. I simply glared at her as the next garbage truck arrived.

The claw lifted the black bin off the parkway and then put the can back down. The can, however, tipped right over and dropped into the river of rainwater. Down the hill it went. The open end of the 50- to 60-gallon can (3 liters for non-Americans) was facing uphill. Water rushed in.

The enormous weight of the water in the can slowed it down enough so I could catch up, but it took me some time before I could get the thing upright again to return it to the garage. All during this time, of course, the rain was still pelting down. As you can imagine, I was in a very good mood.

I got back in the house, and I was more waterlogged than the first time. Granny was still laughing.

She stopped laughing as soon as she looked outside and saw our neighbor struggling with a blue can across the street. It tipped over, and garbage went everywhere.

"Oh look," she said. "He needs help."

Granny immediately raced outside in her bare feet and went to help. Together, they collected his cans and returned them to safety.

She came back in, wet as a duck. I was so mad, there was steam coming off my head. Her husband, the man she made vows to, her partner, her love, grandfather to her most adorable grandchild, had been outside just moments before, fighting the elements and potential wet dog poop on the lawn, and what did she do? Laughed and took pictures from the warm, dry living room.

But then, the guy across the street came outside, and what did she do? She darted outside in bare feet to lend assistance. What does that tell you? Something smells around here, and it's not a dirty diaper!

She's gonna get it.

WWC: "White" and "Mailbox"

2009-03-03T07:48:00.000-08:00

I decided to get in on the Weekly Words Challenge (WWC) fun since there is now a photographic muse at our house 24/7. The challenge is to take photographs that illustrate the words of the week. This week's words are "white" and "mailbox." Enjoy.

White (that's Granny's lovely arm in the background)

Mailbox (please take note of the bib)

See, with a baby that beautiful how could we in good conscience not take lots of photos?

Editor's note: said baby's cheeks are still delicious.

Nicknamery Is Grandpa's Job

2009-03-02T16:42:00.000-08:00

I take my responsibility to think up cute nicknames for the Granddaughter very seriously. If Gramps won't do it, who will? Granny already wrote a post about the nickname Baby Boomer. My favorite is apfelpfankuchen.

Apfelpfankuchen is German for "apple pancake". A couple of months ago, Xboy was making them for his German language class. I quickly made the connection between the Granddaughter's delicious cheeks and the German dessert. So, of course, each night after dinner I get my own dessert of apfelpfankuchen cheeks. As previously mentioned, the cheeks grow back while she sleeps so I can dine again the next day.

Look at those delicious apfelpfankuchen cheeks.

Editor's note: please think good thoughts for Granny. The doctor told her today she has pneumonia, something not nearly as delectable as apfelpfankuchen. Also, a couple of weeks ago, a blood test revealed high antibodies for the Epstein-Barr virus, the same virus that causes mononeucleosis. That may explain some of the symptoms she has been experiencing for years. She is at home, and Gramps is bringing her lots of beer, which has been clinically proven to cure everything.

Gramps and The Baby Boomer

2009-02-26T06:32:00.000-08:00

There's really not too much to report from the world of Granny and Gramps.

The oldest daughter is a GREAT mother - she goes to school, does her nursing clinicals and gives the Granddaughter so much attention, we rarely hear any loud, piercing screams of hunger. Actually, it is a very nice - the ability to wake up almost every morning hearing coos of baby laughter.

Our Drama Queen - is still our Drama Queen. I took her to the eye doctor for the much anticipated contact fitting the other day. The dr. put the contacts into her eyes:

"Mom - it feels like there is a piece of plastic sitting on my eyeball."

"Uh, dear - THERE IS A PIECE OF PLASTIC SITTING ON YOUR EYEBALL!"

"Oh. Grandma says I get my drama attitude from you. Do you think?"

"Ughhhhh."

Xbox Boy and Gramps are killin' me with "Left for Dead." Now, I've seen Gramps postings about the Zombies ... and I've seen his latest "ha!" towards Grandma and her playing Luxor; and despite his posting, that evil xbox system does NOT control my life - not like it does theirs.

Recently the oldest daughter upgraded her cell phone to the new TMobile "G1". It is a pretty cool phone with lots of neat games and other texting/calling capabilities ... My husband/My son - they found the "Zombie Finder" Yes, this phone will act as a mapping device and it shows us how close proximity the zombies are to our home.

And take 2am this morning for example. Gramps can't sleep. Where do you think he is? Yep, you got it - Killing Zombies! Why can't he do something productive at 2am? Ladies, You know what I mean - it would be nice if he would empty/load the dishwasher ... clean out the kitchen cupboards ... do a load of laundry - you know, the helpful stuff! Nope - He is KILLING Zombies!

Proving my point ... I have attached a recent picture of the Granddaughter. In this picture, Granny is feeding Ms Adorable her first cereal ... Gramps is in the background taking pictures and teaching her the sounds of the Dreaded Baby Boomer (again, from XBox - Left for Dead) ....

"BLUUAAAGHHHH"

The Zombie Apocalypse

2009-02-25T20:47:00.000-08:00

Granny hates zombies.

Oh sure, we all hate zombies, don't we? But they really irk Granny these days. The reason is Left 4 Dead. This Xbox game is my latest passion. Xboy and I have wasted...er, I mean "invested"...many, many hours in this latest imagination of a zombie apocalypse.In the game, players take control of one of four human survivors--Bill, Francis, Louis or Zoey--and shoot, punch and burn their way through hordes of deliciously angry zombies to safety. The game has everything--gunpowder, explosions, body parts flying everywhere, and lots and lots of zombie blood. And that's just regular play.

The heroes--Francis, Bill, Zoey and Louis

If you play online, you get to play as one of the special zombies--hunters, smokers, boomers and tanks. These specials have unique skills and are quite powerful. If there is one thing better than blowing away hundreds of zombies to reach safety, it's ganging up on four puny human beings and hacking, strangling and pounding them into oblivion.

The villains.

It is so good I have even created a diary of a survivor on a separate blog (When the Dead Rise Up), in case you are interested in important tips about killing zombies. Go over there every once in a while for some bloody undead fiction.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a real life zombie apocalypse. Just don't tell Granny.

The Pot and the Kettle

2009-02-13T13:11:00.000-08:00

You may recall that I am an Xbox aficionado. I could play for days on end, taking breaks only to use the bathroom and get more beer from the fridge. But you have to understand, I am in complete control of my Xbox play and can stop any time I want.

You may have gotten a different impression if you read Granny's comments about how evil the Xbox is and that it takes her husband and son away from her all weekend. She claimed that if she had her way, she would smash the vile machine into a million bits. Keep that in mind as you enjoy the following picture.
Yes, that adorable sleeping child in the photo is The Granddaughter. And the woman playing Xbox while cradling that child? Granny.

You see, Santa Claus brought an Xbox game for Granny that included Luxor. I don't get the appeal of Luxor, mostly because there isn't any gunpowder involved. Granny, however, can't get enough of it. Since Christmas, her children have been complaining about the time Granny spends in front of the television playing Xbox, the game system she called "evil."

I think a retraction of Granny's previous statements is in order. Don't you?

A Clueless Daughter, a Snot-Nosed Brat and a Smile

2009-02-05T10:59:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: The contents of this post are in no way intended to indicate that my commitment to my curmudgeony manner has decreased.

Two small episodes made me smile in the last 12 hours. The first occurred as Granny and I were going to bed. Through our closed bedroom door, we could hear our frickin' adorable granddaughter talking happily to herself. This went on for several minutes nonstop. Granny went into The Daughter's room to grab a midnight snack of that baby goodness. She came back chuckling to herself.

"Did you hear what your daughter said?"

"No," I answered.

"Your daughter said, 'Mom, the baby is not going to sleep. Her bedtime is 9:30.'" Isn't that great? The Daughter has given her 3-month-old child a bedtime! Hilarious.

Then, this morning, I was driving to work and stopped at a light. A woman pushing a stroller walked across the crosswalk. Her snot-nosed three-year-old (No, I do not know he was three. What are you, the Accuracy in Blogging Police?) held her hand and as he passed me, looked up at me.

I did something that is completely out of character for me. I smiled. He smiled back and waved. It changed the whole tone of my day. Something as little as a smile made a difference. That was nice. (And if you ever tell a soul about this, I'll cut you into little pieces and feed you to Dick Cheney.)

On Being the Creepy Grandpa

2009-02-04T15:52:00.000-08:00

I am too young to be old. My back has betrayed me. My daughter has made me a grandparent. When I was playing basketball and we split up into the old guys vs. the young guys, no one had even a fleeting thought that I should be with the young guys.

But I'm only 40, and every once in a while there is a moment that fools me into believing I'm not yet over the hill. You may recall my story about buying beer to celebrate my granddaughter's birth. The cashier asked to see my ID.

The fact that I am a young grandfather, however, has a creepier side to it.

On Monday, I went with The Daughter to re-enroll her in the high school. She had taken the Fall semester off in order to have the baby. (I am happy to say that due to some hard work on her part, she managed to make up the lost units and is ready to graduate on time.) She needed a parent to go along to sign the paperwork and, as it turned out, to carry the six tons of baby gear.

My 17-year-old daughter and I don't share any genes, so there is absolutely no family resemblance. There she is, merrily strolling down the hallway carrying her baby, and I am trudging behind carrying all the baby paraphernalia. To set the scene further, let me say that I was wearing blue jeans and an old flannel shirt. Since it was my day off and I had been sick, I just rolled out of bed without even bothering to comb my hair. I was looking very much like a first-class slacker. Though I am a 40-year-old slacker, I still sometimes have to show my ID to buy alcohol, mind you.

It may have been my imagination, but the looks I got--particularly from the adults--seemed designed to shame me into taking my own life. Particularly, they seemed to be communicating, "How dare you! How dare you corrupt such a young girl, you worthless SOB. You should be castrated on the spot."

Then we went into the dean's office. One of the deans came bustling by, and he saw my daughter. He had known about her pregnancy.

"Well hello," he said. "I was wondering how you were doing. Is this your baby?" I saw him casting glances my way, where I was sitting with the baby stuff.

And then he said, quietly, "Is this the baby daddy?"

My daughter responded even more quietly, and I couldn't make it out. I was hoping she was saying, "No, that's my dad, you imbecile."

Soon after, we got up to go into another office and the dean left. As he passed by me, he said, "You have a beautiful baby there."

I should have said, "Thank you. You do know I'm that girl's father, you imbecile." Instead, my powerful wit only works on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and so I just managed a weak smile. I had no idea what to say.

Later, I checked in with my daughter. She thought the dean was asking about the baby's father, and so she just said, "He's not involved."

I admitted that was the one part about her pregnancy that always made me uncomfortable. Whenever she and I went somewhere together, I had this feeling that people were looking at me as if I were some sort of monster for doing such a terrible thing to this young girl. She said I should get a shirt that says "I'm the grandpa."

It got me to wondering about whether I should start making an effort to look older. So today, I didn't shave. There are only a few gray hairs on my head, and it takes an effort to see them. My whiskers, though, are generously sprinkled with gray. Maybe that will work. Or, maybe I should just get over it. Why should I care whether or not people think I'm a lecherous monster?

I'm getting the damn tee-shirt.

A Saturday Morning Cartoon Waiting to Happen

2009-01-27T11:34:00.000-08:00

Last week I was walking to a meeting. It has been rainy out here, so everything was wet. I was walking up a hill and saw a banana peel right in the middle of the sidewalk. I thought to myself, "Well, there's a cliche if I ever saw one. I can just see someone stepping on that and, zip, right down the hill they go."

While walking back from a very frustrating meeting, I stepped on something slippery. ZIP! I almost went down the hill. I had stepped right on that banana peel, and somehow I avoided disaster. (I think my incredible good looks saved me. Or was it my massive intellect? Maybe my humility.)

If my back is bad now, can you imagine how bad it would have been if I had hit the deck?

A Wedgie Is Coming Your Way, Pal

2009-01-22T12:22:00.000-08:00

You would think that in a county of 10 million people, there would be one or two that are competent. Apparently not.

Granny and I live in Los Angeles County. More than one-quarter of the residents of the State of California live here with us. Most of those 10 million spend a considerable amount of time thinking up ways to annoy me, but the ones I am particularly upset with at the moment are the ones who are County employees. I am not a conservative “reduce the size of the government” disciple, but I am at the point where I would like to give wedgies to every single County executive as well as the idiots who helped them develop their employment policies.

Nearly a year ago, Granny was switching jobs from one airline to another. She would have been working in the same airport with roughly the same duties, but with better pay. She even had a two-week break between quitting the first job and beginning the second. But then, of course, the world decided to get crazy.

Just after Granny quit her first airline job, fuel prices were peaking and the economy was down on one knee. Most airlines, including the one that offered Granny her new job, established hiring freezes. Suddenly, she had no old job and no new job. But having no job means that you can stop paying bills, right? Wrong.

Granny started up a job search. She looked into every possibility. She sent out resumes by the truckload. She sat through more interviews than Barbara Walters. No luck.

Along the way, she discovered that Los Angeles County had a number of job openings. The County, however, because it enjoys messing with you, has a long, convoluted process to go through before they will even consider you. It included a series of skills tests. Granny dutifully took these tests and did very well. She was in the top rank. The entire process took at least a month, but the County said they would now forward their list of qualified applicants to departments who were hiring.

Another month or so passed. Eventually, Granny got a great job at a private company with excellent benefits and a wonderful working environment. Even more time passed. Finally, someone from the County left a message on our answering machine. “Granny, we’d like you to interview for a position.” That first call came at least three months after Granny began her job search. And that was just the beginning.

In the six months since that first call, Granny has received about four to eight calls and letters every single week from one County agency or another asking her to interview. I do not exaggerate. She has received more than 100 interview requests from Los Angeles County after she found a new job somewhere else.

The County’s long process guarantees they will get the bottom-of-the-barrel employees because the best candidates will find jobs well before the 2-month-long testing process is complete. The only people still available for a County job will be the ones who couldn’t already find work. Arrrgh!

Every evening when I come home and listen to the answering machine or sort the mail, I curse the idiots who run the Los Angeles County bureaucracy. I curse their children. I curse their pets. And someday, when they least expect it, they are all going to get really big wedgies.

Interview with the Granddaughter

2009-01-20T19:37:00.000-08:00

As a special service to our readers, Old Before Our Time is pleased to present the Granddaughter’s first ever interview. The Granddaughter sat down in her favorite swing with a warm bottle and spoke with one of our senior editors, Gramps. She shared her perspective on life at 13 weeks, the inconveniences that come with being frickin’ adorable, and diapers.

OLDBOT: Thank you for taking the time to visit with me. I know you have a very busy schedule.

GD: You’re welcome. The pleasure is all mine.

OLDBOT: I’m sure you won’t be surprised at the number one question on everybody’s’ minds. How in the world did you get to be so frickin’ adorable?

GD: That’s an easy one. I just tell everybody that I take after my grandpa. [Gramps and the Granddaughter laugh.] Seriously, though, I think it’s in my genes. I haven’t really done anything to earn this level of cuteness.

OLDBOT: I’m sure that everyone wants to be cute, but is it really everything it’s cracked up to be?

GD: I’ve seen more than my share of ugly babies, and given the choice, I’d rather be cute. But you always have to watch out for the fans. People always want to pinch my cheeks or hold me or talk baby talk to me. Frankly, that’s the worst. If one more person says “cootchie, cootchie, coo” to me, I’m going to puke.

OLDBOT: How do you deal with it when it is just too much?

GD: Ironically, I’ve found that spitting up a little bit of curdled milk usually does the trick. If that fails, I’ll wail my head off. Sometimes the stench of a really messy diaper can drive people away. There are times, though, when I just have to take it. I don’t have the strength yet to fight anybody off.

OLDBOT: Is it true that your cheeks are delicious and they grow back at night after I eat them off?

GD: Yes, that is true. I have the most delicious cheeks, and I live for Gramps to nibble them off before bedtime.

OLDBOT: What’s the biggest surprise about life outside the womb?

GD: While I was inside, I really thought it would be the colors. I imagined that the world would have a striking array of visual stimuli…and it does…but the biggest surprise has been the food. We don’t really get to eat on the inside—you know, the umbilical cord and all—but out here, the food is great. It’s all warm and tasty in my mouth. That totally blew my mind.

OLDBOT: What do you enjoy when you have a little free time, when you’re not schmoozing with your fans?

GD: On any given day, I like to sleep. I sleep as much as I can. I’m trying to save all my energy for when I get a job and can pay back Granny and Gramps for all the great things they’ve done for me. I also like to eat, as I said.

Then there’s crying. Sometimes a good cry will satisfy me for hours. Don’t tell my mom, but sometimes I just cry to mess with her. I’m not hungry or tired or anything. I just want to see what she’ll do to get me to stop crying.

Oh yes, there’s also the pooping. God how I enjoy that. Just got to keep the bowels moving, eh?

OLDBOT: Speaking of pooping, how are you adjusting to diapers?

GD: As you know, Gramps, I didn’t have any on the inside. Didn’t need ‘em. I find they chafe a little at the end of a long day. I’d rather not have them at all, but I can’t seem to get Mom to agree to that. I just can’t wait for the day when I can take them off all by myself and leave long trails of poop down the hall.

OLDBOT: You may want to wait until you and your mom move out, don’t you think?

GD: Of course not. [Laughs.] Don’t want you to miss out on all the fun.

OLDBOT: Tell us, what else are you looking forward to as you grow up?

GD: It’s definitely the beer. If you’ve taught me anything, it’s that it is all about the beer.

OLDBOT: I’m impressed. You’re learning fast! Again, thank you for spending this time with me. It’s been one of the highlights of my career as a journalist.

GD: You’re not a journalist, Gramps.

OLDBOT: Oh, yes. Well, thank you anyway.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year ...

2008-12-11T14:31:00.000-08:00

No, there is no snow on the ground. No, school is not out. No, there are no sugar plumbs dancing in my head or reindeer pawing on the rooftops. However, there is an adorable - loving and cooing baby in the house.

An Ode to a Neighbor

2008-12-05T13:12:00.000-08:00

Dear Neighbor:

As I drove to work today, I saw a man walking his dog. This reminded me of you. Specifically, it reminded me of the day earlier this week when you were walking your dog or dogs past my house. You let your dog or dogs take a dump on my front lawn, and then you didn’t clean it up.

I didn’t know this, of course, when I took the trash out to the curb that evening in the dark. In fact, I still didn’t know this as I walked back into my house, through the living room, through the dining room, through the kitchen and into my laundry room. You might find this amusing, but I still didn’t know that you let your dog take a crap on my lawn and then left that steaming pile of canine doo on the grass as I began stomping on aluminum cans in my laundry room.

“Hmm,” I thought to myself. “That smells a lot like a dirty diaper.” This didn’t immediately surprise me, because there is a six-week old baby living in my house. But then, I realized that my granddaughter does not yet emit solid poop, and so the smell could not be coming from her.

Musty dishrags? No. The scent was far too powerful for that. What could it be? I leaned down toward the floor because that is where the smell seemed to be the strongest. And there it was—lovely dog crap all over the bottom of one shoe and, because I had been stomping cans, on the sides of my shoes and around the bottoms of my pant legs.

Then I looked back into the kitchen where I saw gooey poo marks on the floor everywhere my right foot had come down. The same was true of the dining room and on my living room carpet. Needless to say, I didn’t finish smashing those cans because I spent the next 45 minutes down on my hands and knees with a can of Lysol and a roll of paper towels. Then, I cleaned the front steps and driveway.

Do you know why I had the fun of cleaning up dog shit that night? It was due exclusively to the fact that you let your dog defecate on my lawn, and then you made a conscious choice not to clean it up. Let me be the first to congratulate you on your wise decision making abilities. Your momma taught you well.

I don’t know if you habitually act like an industrial-strength douche bag* or if this was a rare incident where you acted in a way that makes me want to smash you in the side of your fat head with my shovel. Either way, you are an industrial-strength douche bag. You are definitely off my Christmas card list this year.

Instead, I may keep a close eye on those who pass by my house with their dogs. I may choose to notice exactly which person or persons allow their dog or dogs to take a dump on my lawn and then leave the evidence. Then, I may decide to carefully follow that individual or individuals to their home. At that point, I may choose to line the underside of the car door handles with copious amounts of dog crap, or perhaps I’ll leave lots of the stuff in a place where it can be smelled it for several days, but not easily discovered.

No matter what I decide to do, you deserve everything you get, you industrial-strength douche bag.

Affectionately,
Gramps

*Many thanks to John Oliver for this new addition to my verbal repertoire.

So Much to Be Thankful for:

2008-11-26T19:03:00.000-08:00

As I look back through the past year, I see so many changes in my family. Sure, there is the obvious ~ we have a Beautiful and very Healthy Granddaughter!

But there are also the little things:

The daughter has learned the value of motherhood. She is beginning to realize that being a "mom" is a lot more than a title ... it is a HUGE responsibility. She is beginning to value every moment that I am home from work, and she is beginning to realize that when I say "I'm tired" - it doesn't mean that I want to lie down and go to sleep ... I just want to lie down!

Our drama queen is learning the value of an education. It has taken almost 10 years of schooling, but she has finally "learned" that school is not the place where she goes to meet her friends, but it is the place where she goes to learn! Sure, we still get the daily phone calls ... "This is SPHS calling to inform you that your child was late/absent from one or more periods today ..." but it is a GREAT feeling to know that the absence is for a legite reason ~ she was with her Drama Team ~ performing in front of her classmates!

Xboy ... the apple of my eye ... The Straight "A" student - the Trumpeteer and the Third Baseman for his Little League Team! Honestly, if the only thing that I can complain about is too much video games and occasional glare; I think I'm pretty damn lucky! Hey, at least he's not out there running the streets, smoking, drinking or getting some naive girl pregnant!

... and then there is the Curmudgeon - Cranky Ol' Gramps: Yes, he is a perfectionist - he can NEVER be wrong, he ALWAYS has to win and all the beer really knows how to stink up a room; He is a Great Husband, a Loving Father and a Silly~Goofy Singing Grandpa! We may not always see eye to eye or agree about anything, but I know that his love for me and my family is real! I truly love this man!

This Thanksgiving, I have so very much to be thankful for ... I have three beautiful/wonderful Children, an adorable Grandaughter and a doting Husband. I have a great job, decent health, a safe and pleasant community in which to live

... and whether you are Black or White, Rich or Poor, Gay or Straight ... I am Thankful that I Live in a Country Where I am Free to Express My Frustrations, Opinions and Gratitude to a bunch of online strangers who can remind me to find the humor in my "troubles".

For you, I am Thankful!
Happy Thanksgiving 2008.

Things That Make ME Go ... Hmmmm!

2008-11-20T12:40:00.001-08:00

"granny--I love you, but you don't know what you're talking about; Xbox is God's gift to humankind."

If the Xbox is God's gift to humankind, than what am I? Chopped Liver?!?!

Followed by, and again, I quote:

"I would be perfectly happy if my wife and I were the only two people on earth. She could putter around Asia during the day while I tinkered in Africa. Then, we could meet back in South America in the evenings to watch baseball on the couch. I could go for that."

We could be on separate continents during the day, and then meet back in the evening for baseball? And then, I have to play second to the XBox - and let's not forget the beer!?!?

Somewhere between these words, I am to find a self described crotchity old curmudgeon ... aka... my husband who insists to the world that "He Loves Me Most!" The man that I married seven years ago; somehow has disappeared ~ who knows where he went to, but perhaps he too has been swallowed by The Old Woman who Swallowed the Fly.

(a song that HE sings to our adorable granddaughter almost every night.)

Xboy: Batteries Not Included

2008-11-14T12:56:00.000-08:00

While we are waiting for the new granddaughter to grow up, I think it is time to profile Xboy, our son, the youngest of the three.

Xboy stays with his mother during the week, but comes to us on the weekends and for a good portion of the summer. While he is with us, he thinks it is his God-given right to spend 98-percent of his time playing Xbox. The other 2-percent is to be spent leaving clothes and dishes around the house. He believes it is an act of child abuse if we do not allow this.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I should say here that I enjoy the Xbox as much as anyone. If I had a job that required me to play video games all day, I would willingly work overtime. Therefore, it is easy for me to allow Xboy to burn images of animated carnage onto his retinas for hours on end.

Yet, as much as I hate the idea, I do have to think like an adult sometimes. The rational part of my brain recognizes that there are important things like homework, chores, exercise, showers and the dreaded “family time.” (From our kids’ reactions, you would think that spending time with their family was the equivalent of throwing them into an arena full of lions.)

So, nearly every weekend, the following conversation inevitably occurs:

Gramps: Xboy, your mom is coming to get you at 6. You need to be ready to go by 5.
Xboy: (eyes not looking up from screen) Okay.
Gramps: Also, Granny asked you to clean the bathroom this morning. You haven’t done it yet. You need to do that immediately.
Xboy: Okay.
Gramps: Are you listening to me?
Xboy: Okay.
Gramps: The house is on fire. You’ll die if you don’t leap up and run out the back door right this second.
Xboy: Okay.
Gramps: (physically turning Xboy’s head so he is looking at me) Clean the bathroom now.

At this point, the situation begins to deteriorate. There is a great stomping of feet and numerous mutterings of outrage over the injustice of life in such a fascist home. I know that if I am not actually physically present to oversee the cleaning of the bathroom, it will not get done. That means I have the privilege of spending quality time with a hostile teenager who is working very hard to do the least amount of work possible.

It is likely that Granny, knowing my own fondness for the Xbox, will protest. She would tell you that I almost never forcibly pull Xboy away from his video games, and am in fact, an accomplice of his. Granny hates the Xbox. She would prefer that the console were stuffed into the garbage disposal (and she has a fondness for putting odd things in the garbage disposal, but that’s another story). So I don’t think she is an impartial witness.

But the truth is that my biggest struggles with Xboy are about his failure to do what he needs to do properly because he would rather play. There are weekends that I would like to take that boy, the child of my loins, and pound him into pudding with a potato masher. So far, I haven’t. I’ve heard they don’t give you beer in prison.

So, now, it is time for me to wrap this up so I can go home for lunch and play the...I mean, so I can fold laundry.

Pay No Attention to That Man Behind the Curtain

2008-11-10T13:43:00.000-08:00

Who would have known that a tiny little baby can bring a grown man to tears? And not just any grown man, but my husband ... the man who hates people, the man who hates kids, the man who if he had his way; would be the ONLY man to grace the planet Earth.

But within the past 2-3 weeks, I have seen just that. My husband has become a blubbering fool. Take this weekend for example. Saturday morning, Gramps decided that he wanted to surprise our little mommy with an outfit for the Granddaughter. Now, please understand - Gramps HATES the mall - HATES anything to do with spending money. But, would you believe that Gramps spent money?!? (Granted, it was my money) but HE spent at least two hours walking in and out of stores trying to find the perfect outfit for his lil' peanut.

And then, there was Saturday night: In order to give Mommy a rest, The Granddaughter is sometimes sleeping with Granny and Gramps. During a middle of the night diaper changing - with baby wailing and legs in the air; The Granddaughter lets one rip - we are not talking urine here, folks. What does Gramps do? Nothing! He thinks it is cute! Cute? How is feces on a bedspread cute?

This is not my husband! He sings cutsie songs! He talks in baby talk! He forgets all about me - and it is all about the baby! (I'm not complaining on that last point, I'm just saying ...)

What it boils down to is this: Gramps is a softie! This lil' girl has come into our homes and turned him into a big blob of mush! Again, Pay No Attention to That Man Behind the Curtain ... He is not what he appears to be!

Two and Counting

2008-11-06T12:06:00.001-08:00

My granddaughter is two weeks old today, and she's still adorable.

Just sayin'.

The Baby

2008-10-29T15:08:00.000-07:00

Gramps is not the only one who gets to post all the fun stuff ... Ladies and Gentlemen, Here she is now: The Baby, The Princess ~ The Granddaughter!!

For those of you who have yet to discover this feeling; It is the best! To hold this lil' bundle of sweetness, to cover her with kisses, to smell the freshness of a clean diaper and yes, even to hear her cry. Grandma loves it - I love it ALL!!

She has the tiniest little button nose. The perfect little lips and man, oh man does she love to snuggle. I like to believe that she knows my voice already. She does open her eyes when I talk to her.

They say that parenthood is bliss - let me tell you, being a Grandma ~ this is Heaven!

May I Have Your Attention, Please

2008-10-28T15:39:00.000-07:00

Xboy will have to wait. I have an announcement to make.

There is a baby in the house!

She is beautiful and perfect, and I am much happier about this development than I expected to be. Sure, I thought I would be pleased to see my granddaughter. I just didn’t know how intensely happy I would be. I remember crying in the middle of the night and dirty diapers and the constant need for attention even after a long, exhausting day at work.

I forgot about the magic of a tiny, perfect little life in my arms. I forgot about the tiny yawns and the soft breath and the absolute peace of an infant’s slumber. And I never before knew what it was to be a grandparent. It is a different feeling, knowing the joy without the stress and fear of the ultimate responsibility.

It was a wonderful thing to wake up this morning with Granny bringing that girl into our room for some snuggling before I had to get ready for work. It is a wonderful thing knowing I’ll go home later today to watch her sleep on her mother’s chest.

I think I like this.

I should add, with perfect objectivity, that my granddaughter is the most beautiful baby alive. I told my daughter after the long, hard labor, that I was glad she didn’t get one of those ugly babies. She did well. Despite my fears and frustrations, despite the poor choices that got her into this, she did well.

Unexpectedly, the baby’s father was at the delivery. We didn’t expect him to show, but he did. And he passed out! That’s my favorite part of the story. The guy passed out, and they had to revive him with smelling salts. I want someone to tell that story at my funeral.

My second favorite story was from yesterday. Instead of cigars, I’m passing out bottles of beer in celebration. I made pink labels with the baby’s name, date of birth and weight. When I was in the store yesterday buying the beer to celebrate my granddaughter’s birth, the checker asked for my ID!

I’m a happy man.

And Now, Meet the Drama Queen

2008-10-10T11:40:00.000-07:00

Since there is nothing else to do while we await the arrival of grandchild number one, perhaps this is the perfect time to introduce the other migrane machines--I mean “adorable teenagers”--in our life.

You already know something about The Daughter, who is soon to give us The Granddaughter. She is Granny’s oldest. Granny’s other bundle of joy is a high school sophomore we’ll call The Drama Queen, for reasons that will soon become obvious.

Our lovely Drama Queen--like her mother and sister, she is lovely--has only two settings: Totally Drama and Comatose. The Totally Drama setting is on whenever she is awake. At this setting, everything is critically important, and everything is an emergency.

Let’s say, for example, that Gramps eats her two-day-old half-eaten hamburger out of the refrigerator. Her response, in a loud, high pitched voice that wakes up the neighbor’s cat three blocks away, will include the following significant facts:

I was going to eat that.
You knew I was going to eat that.
Now there is nothing to eat in the entire house and I will die of starvation.
Everybody else always eats my food and I never get to eat what I want.
I was going to eat that.
My life is completely unfair.
I was going to eat that.

Listen in to this representative conversation between Drama Queen and Granny-to-be:

DQ: Can you pick my friends and me up from the movies on Thursday?
G: Thursday? You mean Thanksgiving Day?
DQ: Yeah, I guess.
G: That is a family day. You’re not going out with your friends.
DQ: Oh my God, Mom! I have plans!
G: It’s Thanksgiving Day, for heaven’s sake. We have plans on Thanksgiving Day every year. Didn’t you think of that?
DQ: But Mom, you know I wanted to do this for a long time.
G: You’re staying home with us.
DQ: That’s not fair!
G: Nevertheless, that’s what’s happening.
DQ: You never let me do what I want. This is so not fair. I’m so mad my whole body is shaking. I want to scream.
G: Yes, dear, that’s nice.
DQ: Ooooh, I’m so mad. That’s not fair. (Stomps off down the hall.)

And that’s our middle child in a nutshell. Her entire world crashes down around her every day, but somehow she just manages to keep it together until the next big crisis, such as when her trollish parents won’t give her a birthday party worthy of MTV’s My Super Sweet 16.

NEXT TIME: Meet the final member of the cast, my son, who believes that life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness and eight hours a day of uninterrupted Xbox time are all natural human rights. Let’s call him Xboy.

Ready or Not...

2008-10-03T12:41:00.000-07:00

There should be a new addition to our household within four weeks.

I’m not ready for this. Granny, who has apparently forgotten what it is like to have a screaming, pooping, needy infant in the house, can’t wait. Our daughter can’t wait. Her sister can’t wait. Am I the only sane one in the house?

I will admit that I have had some pleasant moments daydreaming about teaching my young granddaughter about the infield fly rule, reading to her, taking walks with her and watching birds in our backyard together. (Do you think she has to learn how to walk before she can learn to chase cats?) Nevertheless, her arrival will mark the beginning of an extremely stressful transition. That is the nature of things, even in the best of circumstances.

In the last couple of weeks, we are getting not-so-subtle hints that this may not be the best of circumstances. Start with a healthy dose of teenage drama, stir in a hormonal girl with a baby on the way, add a dash of young man with the common sense of earwax, broil over a half dozen angry late-night telephone conversations, and you have a potent stew that will make your stomach turn.

Yes, for about the sixth time since my daughter became pregnant, she and the father of the child have broken off all contact. This has been the most angry and bitter of the breakups to date. There is a possibility that they will never attempt to patch things up. But the odds are also good that within a few weeks, my daughter will be convinced she can never live without the boy.

One of the issues is child support. He doesn’t think he should be saddled with the indignity of being forced by the state to pay. My daughter should trust him to do the right thing, he says. I’d be more convinced if he were already doing the right thing by his first child. He has a track record, all right, and he’s dropped the baton every time.

Due to his anger (perhaps fear?) over the possibility of being forced to pay his fair share as well as the results of a few other games that high school kids know how to play so well, venom is being sprayed liberally in both directions. I really hope that by the time my granddaughter is old enough to understand what is going on in the world, my daughter and the father will have at least learned to be civil. No child should ever witness that sort of hatred between parents. It makes me sad to think that my granddaughter might be so abused.

In one conversation, the boy first said that if he had to pay child support, he wouldn’t ever have anything to do with the child. Then, in the next breath, he said he’d go to court to get custody of her. You can imagine that shook up my daughter more than a little bit. At this point, she doesn’t want him to have anything to do with the child. And all this with less than a month to go.

My belief is that someday these two kids will settle down and mature enough to figure out that doing right by their daughter is their first responsibility. I just hope they learn that lesson before they do too much damage to this little girl who doesn’t deserve any of it.

Baby Shower of Death Claims One Old Victim

2008-09-25T11:49:00.000-07:00

Has it really been more than four stinking months? This means either I am a lazy slob or things have been absolutely crazy at the Old People’s Home.

Let’s go with that second thing.

Since I live in a house with three women (and a teenage boy on the weekends), then it goes without saying that things are a little nuts even in the best of times. Add a pregnant daughter, a wife who is starting a new job, a heart attack for my father-in-law and a rapidly diminishing stock of beer on hand, and you can imagine why I am wondering if Armageddon is just around the corner.

Today, let’s discuss the pregnancy. The good news is that mother and baby are both healthy, and there are only about five weeks until the due date. Now for the craziness. My daughter has been in the hospital three different times to calm early contractions. Until the most recent checkup, the baby was breech. And, what could have been the coup de grace to my sanity, the baby shower.

Ah, yes, the baby shower. It seems harmless enough, doesn’t it? Even the words that make up the phrase “baby shower” seem gentle and relaxing. After all, who doesn’t like a cuddly baby or a refreshing summer rain shower? When someone mentions a baby shower, don’t you immediately think of images of women in hats and gloves, with doilies and teapots nearby?

A baby shower is anything but harmless, especially if my wife is planning it. “But dear,” she will say, “It was very successful.” Yes, it was an incredibly successful event, but for someone of my personality, it was a torture so horrendous that the only people who should ever be subjected to it in the bowels of hell are Hitler, and players and fans of the San Francisco Giants.

One thing you should know about my curmudgeonly self is that I believe that no person should, under any circumstances, ever, ever, ever, ever spend money. This baby shower had to be spectacular. This baby shower had to be perfect. And it was. Unfortunately, we had to sell our house to pay for it. (On the positive side, we did receive some roomy cardboard boxes that will serve very well until the first winter rains.)

The baby shower also involved people. Despite the fact that my job requires me to interact with people intensely on a daily basis, I am not a people person. In fact, I would be perfectly happy if my wife and I were the only two people on earth. She could putter around Asia during the day while I tinkered in Africa. Then, we could meet back in South America in the evenings to watch baseball on the couch. I could go for that.

But at the baby shower, I actually had to talk to people and act like a congenial host. I think I did a pretty good job. Only once did I shove somebody’s face into the cake (which my daughter decorated, by the way). I may have even smiled a couple of times.

Thankfully, that’s all over and done. The new clothes and toys are put away. My daughter’s room is ready to receive the baby, and we’re all relaxing a little and waiting for the granddaughter to arrive. The next 18 years should be smooth as glass. Right?

Right?!

How Do I Love Thee?

2008-05-11T13:10:00.000-07:00

A little more than seven years ago, I married a woman who was raising two children. Our marriage gave her one more. That woman has asked me many times, “Why do you love me?”

An important reason is that she is such a wonderful mother. She loves her children; she aches for them; she fights hard for their best interest in a world that is often cruel. Before I came to love this woman, she was something of a hero to me. As a single mother, she worked hard to build a life for her girls. She often took the more difficult, riskier road because it held the potential for a better future. She grabbed hold of opportunities I would have been afraid to pursue.

This woman is more than just a mother to her daughters. She became a mother to my son. In fact, she is a mother to every child. She could never turn her back on any one of the world’s children. Our home is filled with kids because she encourages them and loves them and welcomes them. (I think, on the other hand, that all kids should be shipped to an island in the middle of the Pacific until they turn at least 25.) If I want to find my wife in a crowded room, I look for the kids.

This woman is a spectacularly wonderful mother, despite her doubts. She will make an excellent grandmother. That’s why I love her.

Happy Mother’s Day, Granny!

Redemption is Oh, So Bitter Sweet!

2008-05-10T17:02:00.000-07:00

17 years ago, I gave birth to a beautiful lil' girl who thought me to be perfect in everyway ... "I was her hero."

Through the years, she saw me for who I really was - a struggling single mom, who made (and continues to make) her share of mistakes. A parent herself who is afraid to let her children make their own mistakes and is constantly "trying to fix things", a mom who desperately wants to be a friend .. and now I am no longer her hero, but the one person that she spits angry, hurtful words at whenever things do not go her way.

This 17 year old girl has had to pay for my mistakes. Money has been tight. I can't always buy her the $100 shoes that she must have or buy her fast food for dinner every night. I am not always there when she needs me; the last minute ride to the mall nor do I always say yes when she asks if she can stay out til 3am with a group of friends that I barely know.

How is she paying?

She will be having a child of her own in 5 months. And while I do know that she is fortunate enough to have me as a parent who will do what I can to help her graduate from high school, pursue her nursing career; I also hope that I am around long enough to say those famous words that all grandmothers were born to say ...

"I told you so!"

Tuesdays with Curmudgeon

2008-05-06T13:42:00.000-07:00

My profile picture features an old guy that may seem, at first glance, generic. It's really me.

Though I don't use a cane yet, the hunched-over posture comes from the heavy weight of realizing that I will soon be 40 and a grandfather. Granny thinks some of the poor posture comes from all the beer in my gut dragging me down, but what does she know? She's old, too.

The most telling part of the image is the hand resting on the painful lower back. I have actually suffered from an on again, off again back injury for about 8 years. In recent times, however, the pain has been much more on than off. My basketball buddies are beginning to wonder if I have become a homebody. The people with whom I work have suggested every remedy in the book, from chiropractors and pills, to acupuncture and voodoo.

You can't see my eyes in that image. I have had near perfect vision to this stage in my life. Now I am old. I have a hard time reading the scores at the bottom of the screen during SportsCenter, which makes life almost unbearable. I am sure that glasses are not far off the horizon for me.

Oh yes, you'll surely tell me. My home hasn't been destroyed by cyclone. I still have all my limbs. Only one of my teenaged children is pregnant. I should be thankful, you say.

I say, bite me. I'm old, and I'm getting crotchetier by the minute.

...Then You Die

2008-04-30T22:02:00.001-07:00

Granny-to-be and I have been watching a lot of our new favorite show, Two and a Half Men. One particular scene sums up the way I have been feeling lately.

The loser brother (not the character I identify with, of course) was curled up in a ball on a bed because his second wife had thrown him out and had taken everything he owned. The son came in and said, "You've been sleeping all weekend."

"I'm old now," said the dad. "That's what old people do. It's a dry run for death."

And don't even get me started about the episode featuring the bad back and painful testicles.

Top Ten Reasons I Should Not Be a Grandpa

2008-04-28T16:22:00.000-07:00

10. I have a very low tolerance for anything that screams and/or poops.

9. I don’t know the words to “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”

8. If it walks on all fours, it should live in a doghouse in the backyard.

7. I am a world-class curmudgeon.

6. I believe children should be shipped to India, not heard.

5. I hate to share my beer.

4. The sight of Oscar the Grouch causes me to weep uncontrollably.

3. I prefer to sleep through the entire night.

2. I have, on at least one occasion, dropped a baby.

1. I play “Chutes and Ladders” to win.

And So It Begins

2008-04-24T11:10:00.000-07:00

At what point did my simple life of drinking beer and watching sports on T.V. descend into chaos? I can pinpoint the moment exactly. Our 16-year-old daughter came to us and said “I’m pregnant.”

Maybe it was my fault for spending too much time playing Xbox. Maybe it was my wife’s fault for refusing to feed me meatloaf while I played Halo. Maybe it was my daughter’s fault for turning down birth control even though we told her we’d help her get it.

In any case, she is now about two months pregnant, and that is that. Try as we might, we cannot turn back the clock. (And I have tried, believe me.) The only way forward is to try to make her pregnancy as positive and healthy as we can for her and the baby. My wife has also told me that it is bad form—and possibly illegal—for me to castrate the father of this child. Where’s Shari’a law when you need it?

I’ve also got to get used to the idea that just months after I turn 40-years-old, I will become a grandfather. Isn’t it bad enough that while I’m contemplating the unfairness of a life that would give me only four short decades before I become 40, that I am also now forced to cope with being a grandfather, too? Come on, Life, throw me a bone here.

Sure, like any man with children, I want to be a grandfather someday. I want to be able to look with pride at my own adult (and “adult” is the key word) kids in the eyes and say, “See, I told you so.” I want to play catch with my grandchildren. I want to take them to the zoo. To read to them. To give them their first taste of beer.

In the natural order of things, however, that should wait until my own kids are married and have a place of their own. It should wait until they have the maturity level to understand that “I’m not hungry” or “I don’t like needles” are not important considerations when you’ve got a little one growing in your womb. It should wait until they can pay for their own room and board, not to mention their child’s. It should wait until they have learned how to drive, for heaven’s sake.

See what I’m saying? This is chaos. Somehow, though, our family will have to learn to make the chaos a life-giving, learning experience for all of us—especially for the little one who never asked for any of this.