Mom is gone…..
Day 2, hour 0:
That son of a bitch Yellow Yoshi. I was woken to the sound of tears. Tears over the yellow Yoshi. I believe that he conspires against me. Also, apparently, our house has been raided, because “Daaaaaaaad, we don’t have anything to eeeeeeeeeatuuuh!!!” I am shocked. The mom unit went grocery shopping before she left, and it was all there and accounted for when I locked up last night. Except for the Eggo waffle and almost a gallon of blue Gatorade. That is still residing in my carpet. I shall investigate this mysterious mystery. After I clean the pee off of me. You know, I figured that when I stopped peeing the bed on a consistent basis at age 12 and started peeing the bed on a semi-consistent basis at age 21 (thank you beer) , that I wouldn’t have to deal with wet sheets during a normal night’s sleep. Colton decided that wouldn’t be the case. Thanks, buddy. The good news is that all of the pee on me and my Ranger PT sweats, not the bed.
Mom is gone…..
Day 2, hour 5:
The boys have left me wondering how in the hell do corn dogs turn into a sword fight, that ends in tears?
Mom is gone…..
End of Day 2:
Everything went pretty well yesterday. During the day there weren’t any fights, they all ate their dinner, they helped clean up after dinner, and they listened to me. So, I decided to reward them with some late-night Froyo. I mean, what the hell? YOLO, right? Rookie. Goddamn. Mistake.
I should have known better. They are animals. Caleb starts off the excursion by pushing on the entrance door to the frozen yogurt shoppe. He attempts this for 10 to 15 seconds before he tries to pull on it. It opens with remarkable ease. He looks at me completely straight-faced and says “Stupid door.” I am shocked at his ridiculousness. Once we get inside, Colton just starts running. Everywhere. Including, through a college girl’s legs. She was wearing a skirt, sooooo that was a bit awkward. He seemed to be fine with it. Caleb then starts pulling on random ass levers to “try out” the flavors. I am becoming less shocked at his ridiculousness. I finally wrangle them and get them their froyo. I turn my back for 45 seconds and Caden has roughly a 28lb bucket of Froyo, and the sickest combination of toppings I have ever seen. It looked like Dairy Queen took a dump in his cup. I figure he has about 45 minutes before diabeetus sets in. Wilford Brimley would not be happy.
After I paid for the dairy concoctions, I realized I paid WAY too much for frozen fricking yogurt. Well, when it’s sold by weight and Caden adds like 4 lbs of cement rock candy to his, that’ll happen. By this point, I just want to eat the damn Froyo. We sit down at an outdoor table and Colton immediately dumps a spoon full on his pants. I decide to do nothing because I know it will happen again. So, we (except for Caden who still has 4 quarts of froyo left) get through the dessert course and Colton wants down out of his chair. Like an IDIOT, I oblige him. As I’m putting him down, his feet start running in place, like when you hold a dog over water. As he hits the ground, he takes off doing a burnout, like a ’72 Hemi ‘Cuda. Straight towards traffic.
I explode out of my chair and race after him. I absolutely trucked a drunk dude, ass over tea kettle. Just before my child runs into oncoming traffic, he switches from a Hemi Cuda to a Lambo and makes a 90-degree right-hand turn at full gallop. I, however, do not, as I am wearing Crocs. (Screw your judgment, they are comfortable) So I hit the brakes the same time a “donked” out Caprice Classic hits his. 2 black dudes yell obscenities at me. One calls me a n%**&r. I tell him “thank you.” Colton is standing on the sidewalk as if nothing had ever happened. I walk up to Colton and very sternly tell him he can’t run away from me. He stares at me for a solid 5 seconds, turns, and runs away from me. I catch him and carry him back to his seat by one leg.
On our way back to the seat, Caden is eating Froyo like a horse with a feed bag of oats. I am sickened, but not surprised. Shortly after we get to our seat, an adorable pit bull walks up to our table to say hello to the boys. I ask the owners if my boys can pet him, and they say “Yes he loves kids.” Caden doesn’t even come up for air from his feed bag. Caleb pets the obviously dangerous death machine. (I’m kidding, I love pits and own one myself). Colton stands in front of the pooch to pet him and it licks him straight in the face. With the biggest god dang tongue, I have seen. His hair looked like Cameron Diaz from “Something about Mary” in the hair gel scene.
Colton is not pleased by the beasts act of affection, as he is still mad at me for scolding him on his Usain Bolt impression. There is a quick, tense moment of eye lock between Colton and the sweet pooch. That moment soon went south. When Colton, close-fist punched the pit bull straight in the mouth. Twice. The dog let out a small whimper and the owner says “What the hell man? Put that kid on a leash” I stare at the guy and tell him to not have such a pussy dog, but silently agree with him. I apologize but have a small sense of victory building inside of me. I decide I am proud of Colton.
We are getting ready to leave and a homeless dude comes up to us and asks if we have any change. I tell him no, as I paid with a card. (That is a lie, and I feel kind of terrible) He says thanks anyway and “God bless”. (I feel terrible inside again).
As the man walks away, Caleb stands up in his chair and says “Hey, bum guy” (I feel a sense of impending doom lurking close) “Did you know that whenever my dad sees any of you guys, he gets super mad because it makes him feel super guilty inside?” I immediately say “Don’t mind him, he’s just a kid. And a known liar.” (That is a lie and I feel terrible inside. Again) Caleb replies with “What? No way Dad! You said that to mom on Wednesday, when we went to Target” (It is the truth. I feel nothing inside, by this point) The man just stares at me. I stare straight back at him, reach into my pocket and pull out a $5 bill, and hand it to him. He turns to Caleb, pats him on the head, and says “Thanks lil’ buddy”. We then leave and drive home in silence. I regret this outing and hate it with the fire of a thousand suns. However, I decide it is a success because I lost exactly 0 children.
Note: Froyo is overrated, and gives me the poops.
(Continued On Text Page)
Buy Me A Coffee
The Havok Journal seeks to serve as a voice of the Veteran and First Responder communities through a focus on current affairs and articles of interest to the public in general, and the veteran community in particular. We strive to offer timely, current, and informative content, with the occasional piece focused on entertainment. We are continually expanding and striving to improve the readers’ experience.
© 2024 The Havok Journal
The Havok Journal welcomes re-posting of our original content as long as it is done in compliance with our Terms of Use.