Nietzsche warned me not to cross the streams

Son refuses to go potty when prompted. “I don’t have to GO!” he yells as he bounces from one leg to another. Wife and I thought if we gave candy, son would do it. Eventually, he decided M&M’s weren’t worth it. I tried to demonstrate and show just how much fun it is, but no lift-off. Eventually, I decided if we made it like a laser gun he was shooting, it would work. Now, he wants to shoot everything. Key problem noted: there is a time and place for everything, and I guess son decided the back deck was the best option.

Do you remember when Dr. Spengler warned Dr. Venkman in Ghostbusters not to cross the streams? Over spring break, son and another little toddler attempted to test that theory. Really!?!? Boys are nuts; I should know. I am still wrestling with the idea of running in the triathlon this weekend. I can barely walk without pain, but hey, that which does not kill me makes me stronger. Nietzsche was a freak. Yeah, I like things that don’t kill me, but do I really need to prove it?

This reminds me of the rugby match I played against Oshkosh where I broke two bones in L-3 and L-4 and played the rest of the match. My friend, Ron Bob, insulted me, called me a baby, and questioned my manhood as I cried every time someone tackled me. Yeah, he felt like shit when I showed up in a back brace at the Apple Pub on Tuesday.

Last night, vacation bible school ended and I, once again, proved I was smarter than a fourth grader. When talking about Saul’s conversion, I asked the kids, “Can anyone be a Christian?” they resoundingly said, “No,” when I asked, “Even if they ask for forgiveness?”


Tough sons of bitches. I hope they’re wrong; I have a long list of, well, let’s not call them regrets-let’s call them cases of seriously bad judgement. I think God lets you pay your penance by giving you “high energy” kids. Payback’s a bitch.

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