So, I can’t believe it’s been almost a year and a half since I last posted. There are a number of reasons why, but really no good excuses. I’ve missed writing about so much, such as:
-Starting a new job within my company last January, and then getting laid off from that job in September, only to get a new, better job within the company with a promotion;
-The colossal pain in the ass that was lice back in December 2013;
-Slash starting lacrosse;
-Axl becoming defiant;
-The Rocket Queen turning into a 4 year-old with the attitude of a 13 year-old;
-The violent vomit bug that hit our house on Super Bowl weekend this year;
-Or any number of funny/embarrassing things that have happened since October 2013.
However, something happened this past weekend that has finally forced me to break my silence. As punishment for not writing in nearly a year and a half, this is my penance, my gift to you.
As anyone who has ever read this blog knows, I am nothing if not self-deprecating. On numerous occasions, I have called my own manhood into question, which is really just a fun way of, as the Father-in-Law calls it, “doofus-izing” myself. However, I think the true measure of a man is his ability to be open and honest and his willingness to admit hard truths and do what is necessary for the sake of his family. It is his ability to recognize that what might be best for his family might not be what is best for him and the willingness to do it anyway. The awareness that his actions have consequences and the willingness to face those consequences. I think “being a man” means not really caring whether other people think you are “a real man.”
I realize that the story I am about to tell with have ramifications that will stay with me forever. To be more direct, I realize that after certain people read this, I will, literally, be teased for the rest of my life.
All winter, The Kids have been asking me and The Wife to go outside and have a snowball fight with them. Not only has it been an incredibly, brutally cold winter, but I have not had snow-pants in years. I kept telling Axl and Slash that I didn’t want to have a snowball fight because, without snow-pants, I’d be cold and wet in a matter of minutes and, thus, miserable. This past Saturday, The Mother-in-Law yelled at us for not taking The Kids sledding, even though the high temperature was only about 20 degrees, and it hovered around 12-15 for most of the afternoon. On top of that, Axl’s class was going to be going sledding during Hebrew School Sunday morning, which prompted a crying “No fair, why does he get to do something fun while I have to sit in stupid class all morning” fit from Slash. So The Wife promised them that we would go sledding after Hebrew School.
Of course, this led to a discussion regarding my lack of snow pants, so The Wife and I agreed that we would take The Rocket Queen and go to the Land’s End Inlet (I’m not sure what the difference is between and Inlet and an Outlet store is, but this is essentially an Outlet store) when it opened at 11 am and see if we could find a pair of snow-pants. Since money is tight, this seemed like a very good option.
We got to the store only minutes after it opened and, upon walking in, I asked the first employee I saw where men’s snow-pants would be. She said that they would be where the clearance jackets and coats were and pointed us in the right direction. As I got to the racks, I saw a man who worked there and asked if they had any snow-pants left:
Employee: What size?
Me: (gesturing at myself) This size.
Employee: No, sorry. We only have two pairs and they’re both XXL.
I am not an XXL, so I was bummed. The Wife walked over and I told her that, sadly, there were no snow pants in my size. As she was walking away towards another area of the store, she said:
Me: (Hey, why don’t you emasculate me further and tell the whole store I have a Mangina? I don’t, I totally don’t) Seriously? Did you have to yell that?
The Wife: (defensively) What?
The Wife: Here, try these on.
Me: (looking very suspicious at them) What the hell are these?
The Wife: Snow-pants.
Me: Are these kids’ snow-pants?
The Wife: What do you care? Try them on.
Me: No way, I’m not trying on kids’ snow-pants.
The Wife: They’re only like $20, what does it matter? If they fit, they fit, and they’re really cheap. You didn’t want to spend a lot of money on snow-pants, so here are cheap snow-pants.
She had a little bit of a point, so I swallowed my ego and tried them on. Surprisingly, they sort of fit. In fact, I’ve lost about 5-6 pounds over the last few months and the waist was a little bit loose:
Me: They look ridiculous.
The Wife: No they don’t, they just look like snow-pants.
Me: Am I really going to wear a pair of kids’ snow-pants? I can’t believe this.
No, no, no, no, NO.
NO. EFFING. WAY
Me: (angrily) Is there something you want to tell me?
The Wife: (guilty face) What do you mean?
Me: Don’t play stupid with me. The snow-pants. Anything you want to tell me?
The Wife: What?
Me: (in a loud whisper) GIRLS’ SNOW-PANTS?
The Wife: Honestly, you’re being so ridiculous. I can’t even believe your reaction right now.
I was faced with an immediate and unpleasant dilemma, with two very unsatisfying choices: Do I forget about buying the light blue size 16 girls’ snow-pants and disappoint my kids by not going sledding and having to deal with THAT fall-out for the rest of the day OR buy the light blue size 16 girls’ snow-pants and face teasing and ridicule for the rest of my life?
I bought the pants and wore them to go sledding on Sunday. And, truth be told, they were a little too big and the pants kept starting to fall down.
Let the teasing begin.