Scary Stuff

The previews of my life with teenage girls are coming more rapidly. Some are just irritating. Others hit you like Jack Lambert used to hit guys from Cincinnati.

Yesterday morning I’m getting the girls up. This is simple task. Not necessarily easy but simple. Rye, taking after my younger sister, does not like to wake up. Kinsey usually gets up without protest. Bails usually gets up and then grabs a blanket and pillow and goes back to sleep on the floor in the middle of her room. Getting Rye and Kinz up on Thursday mornings is even harder because they are tired from gymnastics the night before. Plus American Idol is on and Mom lets them stay up to see the end. Kinda like when my Mom used to let me stay up and watch the first 15 minutes of ABC’s Monday Night Football. I still remember Colts-Redskins 1977 because for some reason I was able to watch all the way through halftime. Which meant hearing Cosell do Halftime Highlights. Get chills just thinking about it.

Anyway, I’m getting them up and into the shower because they are always too tired to shower after gymnastics. Can’t send them to school smelling like a foot so it’s a morning shower. After Mom, Riley gets in the shower. Then Kinsey. And that means hot water becomes scarce ‘round these parts. Now this is not the first time that I’m fourth in line for the shower. But yesterday was the first time that the shower started out chilly. Except for that time last winter when the water heater went out. You how you always have a reference point for things? Like, “Man, that doesn’t taste very good but its still not as bad as broccoli.” Well the only thing colder than my shower would be Nancy Pelosi’s reception if she walked into a Tea Party holding a hammer and sickle.

Second preview that happened was last weekend. Kinz had a friend sleep over Saturday night. And those two along with Rye, Bails and our neighbor are out playing in the snow in the backyard. I’m catching up on the results at the NFL Combine – if Idaho guard Mike Iupati is available at 18 my recommendation is that the Steelers take him. Anyway, as I’m doing this I hear voices down in the basement. Hmmm, that’s odd, I don’t remember the girls coming inside.

Well turns out that Rye never went outside and was just down there watching TV. The rest of the girls wanted inside so she opened a window and they just climbed in through that. So we had our first instance of sneaking into the house through the basement window.

Granted, it happened in the middle of the afternoon instead of after midnight and it was because they wanted to watch The Wizards of Waverly Place instead of avoiding curfew. But it still doesn’t make me happy.

Finally, while the girls were watching the end of American Idol after gymnastics, I gave them some water. Gotta hydrate after your workouts. Naturally, Kinsey spilled her water on the couch. Normally this would result in her whining or Riley loudly announcing her misdeed. Neither of these things happened. What happened was Mom came over to sit down and wondered why the couch was so cold. And wet.

Turns out the strategy Kinsey chose to deal with accidental liberation of liquid from her cup was to cover the spill zone with a pillow. She didn’t quietly walk into the kitchen and grab a dish rag. She didn’t even try to sneak by us with a paper towel. Her fatigue was evidently so great from gymnastics that all she could come with was the Adam Sandler in Big Daddy covering it up strategy.

That’s like saying the Rams are just a player away from the playoffs. Or that Lorenzo Llamas is just an Oscar away from respect.

She really needs a better contingency plan for dealing with spills while tired.

Finally, on an unrelated note, Bailey brings home a sheet from her guidance class. It’s a pic of her thinking about some things that she worries about. I assume it’s the guidance teacher’s way of seeing if there is anything going on at home or school that the teachers need to be aware. Like bullying. It’s not a bad idea. If it was me I’d have drawn pictures of Karl Marx, Woodrow Wilson and President Obama. But that’s just me.

So what does Bailey worry about?


And tornadoes.

And bees.

She drew a picture of a structure which looks a lot like the Parthenon and a sort of Jetsons-type car next to it. Underneath it the ground was coming apart. Then there’s a picture of a tornado with four lightning bolts and raindrops the size of Volkswagens hitting a house. Finally there is a picture of Bailey surrounded by a squadron of bees. Bees with freakishly large stingers.

I told Mom no more letting her watch Twister or The Day After Tomorrow. We’ll have to work on the bees though.


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One CommentLeave a comment

  1. I have to say, my 16 year-old boy, who is a 165lb wrestler for his high school team, takes longer showers than I ever have. He worries about his clothes and how he looks too. So if I was a tom-boy, what does that make him? 😉

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