An explanation

From time to time, a picture is taken that finds its way into the netherworld of social media. That picture requires an explanation. The following is an explanation for this picture:

What on earth was going on here? Seriously...

We live, technically, in a smaller town, a 'ville' really, within an already small town. It's been interesting adjusting to life in said 'ville. This past Friday, we experienced the ville's vaunted Jamboree, which appears to be the annual fund-raiser for the volunteer fire department. It turns out that the area in which we live is the ideal vantage point for viewing the fireworks show associated with the aforementioned Jamboree.

So Friday night as the skies finally darkened, The Boy and a couple his friends set up on our deck in preparation for the fireworks extravaganza. The stunningly patient and mighty fine SML joined them in order to watch the show. As we sat on the deck, we decided to take a picture of ourselves. It took the intervention of one of The Boy's buddies to show me how to work the flash on my friggin' iPhone in order to get the gem featured above.

Turns out the flash on the iPhone is akin to the glow of, oh I don't know, a nuclear bomb explosion. Except the iPhone flash lasts for what feels like a minute before it turns off.  Seriously, you get a nice retina burn before a picture is taken. Hence, the travesty you see above. So there you have it. An explanation.

Here's the thing though - I love this picture. The stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I have laughed countless times since taking it. I love that at this stage of our lives and our marriage that we are able to laugh at ourselves. I love that she had no problem agreeing to having a silly picture of the two of us make its way onto the infinite well of nothing that is the internet. I love that this picture captures the joy on my wife's face. I wouldn't want it any other way.

On Mother's Day

I remember my mother's prayers and they have followed me.

They have clung to me all my life.

Abraham Lincoln

Abraham Lincoln, while not the most educated President in the history of the United States, was one of the nation's most gifted orators. He was profound and instructive as he spoke. He held his late mother, who died when he is a small child, in the highest regard. As reflected in the quote above, her influence was never far from him.

The influence, whether good or bad, of a mother can never be downplayed, belittled, or discounted. Ever. Mothers play an immeasurable role in shaping who their children will become. Lincoln's mother, who lived only a few short years after his birth, influenced him for the rest of his live. Her prayers were woven into the fabric of who he was. Mothers are like that. It doesn't matter if you gave birth to the child you mother or not, that influence is undeniable.

Words cannot express the gratitude I feel towards my mother. Her influence and her words have, like Lincoln's mother, clung to me all my life. I am grateful for what my mother taught me, for what she so seemingly willingly endured from a child like me, and for the happiness she gave our family. I am grateful to a mother-in-law who raised a daughter who wanted nothing more than to be a mother. She gave that daughter an incredible guidance and as a result, my own family has been blessed forever. Generations are blessed because of the actions of one mother.

This is particularly acute now as I reflect on the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and her role as mother. It has been her life and it still is. Just because we only have The Boy left at home does not mean she's ratched down the mother role. Nothing could be further from the truth. She will be a mother forever. My children are beyond lucky. With The Boy Awesome about to be born, making our first-born daughter a mother for the first time, I want her to follow in the footsteps of her mother, my amazing wife. If Our Lady of Awesome will incorporate the lessons she learned from her mother and follow her example, then she will be ready to take on motherhood with confidence.

Like I said, I am so blessed and grateful for the mothers in my life. I have been richly blessed and it is an honor to celebrate them today. As information, though, if you have not finalized your plans on how to make this day special for the mother(s) in your life, please, I beg you by all that's holy to not do this:

And no, it's not the tat that concerns me

Indeed, Hooters, that pinnacle of food (and I use that term loosely) and scantily-clad skanks waitresses is giving Mom a free meal today. Because there is no better way to say "Love you, Mom and thanks for everything" than having a server, spilling out of her tank top, bring the woman who gave you life or who gave your children life a platter full of chicken wings. 

Um, yes there are. There are countless ways to show that love. Man up, my fellow sons, sons-in-law, and husbands, and take good care of the mothers in your life today. They more than deserve it.

Prom-inence

Rest assured...this isn't allowed in CT, people.
Martha Stewart wouldn't have it, no way, no how.

Once again, the good and unseen souls at dictionary.com have given meaning to words and today's word is:

prominence

and it is defined as the state of being prominent; conspicuousness.

Take a look at the train wreck couple to the left and I think it's safe to say that they are just a tiny bit conspicuous. But hey, it was their prom night and they felt justified in what they unleashed wore. The Trail Blazers should sue them.

We have Prom on the mind here in the Den because tonight is The Boy's Junior Prom and it's an event of some prominence, no matter how silly it all seems. We were able to join him, Olivia, his date, and several other couples and their parents for pictures before they all left. It is shaping up to be a fun, memorable night for The Boy. I'll let a few pictures tell the story.

Pinning the corsage...no blood drawn!

The Boy and Olivia

The Boy and some of his bros

The Boy and Dad (um...that would be me)

The Boy and the mighty fine SML (um...his mother, of course)

Look up!

So this rite of passage for The Boy is under way. Prom has changed since I went to Prom thirty years ago. There was only one event, no Junior Prom one week and a Senior Prom the following week. There was no "lock down" concept and you went to dinner wherever you wanted. The Boy's Prom is a lock down, where dinner and the dance are all in the same place. From the looks of it, dinner appears to be something from the economy class kitchens of SkyChefs, and no good can come from that.  None. Further, they have to do a breathalyzer upon arrival at said event. Again, none of that when I went to Prom and given all the sordid shenanigans that were part and parcel for many of those in attendance, there should have been.

It will be fun to hear his take on things when he gets home. He's got a pretty unique take on things. This is one of those nights where you trust that the things you've taught your child, be it a son or daughter, stick. I felt a little bit of pressure, self-imposed mind you, to tell Olivia's parents that their daughter would be taken care of by the Boy. It felt good to hear them both say they trusted him completely. Yeah, I think it's going to be a good night for these guys and all their friends.

Itchy & Scratchy

As you may be aware, or not, my go to television show for consistent laughs is a little program called "The Simpsons." Two of my favorite characters are stars of a show within the show, the murderous frenemies, Itchy and Scratchy. They rule and that's all I think I need to say about that.

Since last Saturday, I've gotten up close and personal with my own Itchy and Scratchy. What, you say? I'll let the pictures do the talking:

Meet Itchy!

Meet Scratchy!

Itchy is my left leg and Scratchy my right. Those red marks are just a smattering of the bug bites I got on Saturday as the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I did some yard work. It was a gorgeous spring day, worthy of wearing shorts, and we wanted to take advantage of it by getting a planter ready, as well as getting the lawn mowed. The shorts, at least for me, turned out to be a bad idea.

During our time in the yard, we were assaulted in a most subtle fashion by what appeared to be gnats. They weren't mosquitoes and whatever they were, they seemed far too small to bite. Wrong again. Whatever these flying minions of Satan were, they did a number on me and the mighty fine SML. We've both been itching like lepers and just as one series of bites seems to ease up, another group gets all red and angry again. It is not awesome. It's a suckfest, quite frankly. 

So I'm not all that happy with Itchy and Scratchy right now. I've learned an important lesson though. Apparently, here in our little corner of Connecticutistan, spring yard work requires the donning of a Haz-Mat suit in order to avoid the assault of these insidious biting little devils. Lesson duly noted. I'd write more about the other lessons learned but I have to itch and scratch the backs of my legs now. I'm out.