Probably the most important thing to know about me (take notes)- my son and my wife are pretty much the center of my universe. I am about to knock your socks off with a funny story about both.
Before I get to the meat of this rambling, stay focused on the fact that this entire situation took place in the infamous yet fertile playground that is my mind.
It's about 2:00-2:30am, and I am giggling. Actually, it is more of a belly laugh that I am trying to smother in my pillow so as to not wake up my wife. Sound in theory, not practicle as I am fairly large by most people's standards (6'4" tall, around 250 pounds at the time of this story). Needless to say, my wife does wake up as she thinks that we are in the midst of a earthquake. She lays there for awhile trying to figure out what is wrong with me, to which I am oblivious as I am pretty much tickled beyond common sense. Finally, curiosity gets the best of my wife and she asks me what is so funny. So begins the story.
In my dream, I am coming home from another long day at the office. It is obviously spring or summer, as it is still daylight and my assumption is that the time is around 6:30-7:00pm at night. As I pull up, I see my wife and son in the front yard. Curiously enough, my son seems to be holding a baseball bat. I wasn't aware he liked baseball. As I pull into my driveway, my son makes probably the second most famous move for all baseball players: he proceeds to spit a mouthfull of something onto the ground and then dig at it with his shoe. I wasn't aware he watched baseball (like I said, this is a dream). My wife, trying to raise him to have a certain amount of social sophistication, proceeds to make the most famous move of all moms: she starts shaking her finger at him and addresses him in a manner expressing her disapproval of such a "nasty habit" (for added spice, my wife stomps her foot). My son is rather precocious and independent, even in my dreams. He sees me drive up and commences waving to me as if I am the best thing he has seen all day, oblivious to the fact that his mom has taken issue with something he has done. In fact, I doubt her scolding made it past the little peach fuzz on his cute little ears.
Why was this funny? It's a mental image I cherish, and it just is funny. At least to me.
Oh, and for those curious as to what the most famous move a baseball player makes is: scratching yourself in front of a stadium full of people. They do make a powder for that.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Well, let me first start off by stating that the only reason I started this blog is because I had to sign up to leave a comment on another blog one of my co-workers started (for those that are curious- http://supplementyourlife.blogspot.com). After signing up, I spent another 15 minutes registering this website name as it would be a good way for me to make comments with the sole purpose of making me feel better, to get things off my chest as it were. I will not promise to not offend you, nor will I give much credence to your complaints in the event that happens. Also, although I may find your opinions delightful, I must admit to being as likely not to care one way or the other. I am impressed with insightful dialog, and you can actually score cool points by not resorting to IM abbreviations for your comments. If you find that too difficult, save us all a few minutes by not leaving one, as I really don't want to decifer lazy english. These are pretty basic insights into the me that is DHazy, and I reserve the right to further define myself, especially at the expense of your frustrations.
