Monday, January 15, 2007

JunkMale has Two Mommies

Of course, by this I do not mean that I was a test tube baby "born" to those-prescribing-to-a-sinful-and-deviant-lifestyle. It just means that I have a biological mom (who has been married to my dad for quite some time now) and a wife, a.k.a. mom-away-from-home. I thought of the title of the blog post while I was in the far-away bathroom at work, and I couldn't resist posting something under it.

I always tell Harmony that my mischief is just preparing her for her future children. Sometimes I would also deem it mischief, but other times I wouldn't.

The previous Friday we took an excursion to a nearby state park, which also includes a nearby lake. In the course of our foot travel we found ourselves by the lake shore, which had lots of big rocks. So while Harmony sat serenely and comfortably on a big rock away from the shore, I proceeded down the rock bank to the shore, where I attempted to skip the smaller stones. (This didn't work because they were rough rocks, not ideal for skipping) Once that was finished, I thought it would be fun to smash some of the bigger rocks together and pulverize them (any sane boy would think this was great fun too). So I picked up a medium-sized one and with a manly grunt, heaved it towards a bigger one (a safe distance away from me, down the bank), whereupon the smaller rock totally busted up into smaller constituents. Then from behind me: "JunkMale! Stop that right now and come up here." She said I wasn't supposed to do such things, to which I asked, "Why?" I forget what she said, but it was something along the lines of "Because...you're just not supposed to do things like that." Never mind the fact that it was a man-made lake and that lots of dynamite-induced pulverization had made it possible for us to have a nice trip that day ;)

Some of her other mommy-like duties include shushing me in church whenever I quietly make a funny comment or observation (or anything else deemed "inappropriate" for church), and telling me to behave myself in restaurants/libraries/malls/movie theaters (in rare times when we actually go)/etc etc etc. To my credit, however, I am potty-trained. Also, if the occasion should ever arise where I need to feed myself for an extended period of time, I am quite capable of pouring myself a mean bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats.

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