As I drink my mid-grade, maintenance whiskey, I feel a burn while smiling, listening to "Dance The Night Away". My lips are worn from sun and wind and have cracked a bit. That slight burn made me smile even wider, realizing that I'm drinking whiskey, listening to Van Halen, watching a campfire, and worn from days in the elements. That ain't a bad burn.
I just put my kids to bed. We talked about family, spending time outside together, and other important topics. Ruby said I smelled like campfire, but didn't kick me out of her room, like her mother would have. I write about this plenty, but It's my life. I raise two kids, primarily. My wife works very hard for the lion's share of our income, which will never go unnoticed. I spend a ton of time with said kids, especially the boy, who's in school just a handful of hours a week right now. I'm tired, too. But today, I wondered if this moment in my life--this half-dozen years or so, being a Mister Mom would be one those times that one looks back on gloriously. It's real easy to get caught up in the "right now" and not appreciate what now offers. But I found myself dearly enjoying the discrete things that I might otherwise overlook if I'd not had this epiphany. I watched my 7yr old daughter gallop, skip, and sing her way back from the neighborhood playground from our backyard. I witnessed my 4yr son showing off for nine pre-teen girls in the park, while they all chanted, "Go Hank! Go Hank! Go Hank!" I believe he was showing them how fast he could run around trees. I smiled, and my lip hurt. It was a great hurt. Tomorrow I get to work my first and second jobs simultaneously. Stay-at-home Dad/Barbecue Guy. Not my fist rodeo, but it should be a fun one. Wake up, put shitty clothes on...start a fire, make coffee, season the butts, "Shit, they're up already?"...turn on cartoons, "Brush your teeth!", peel 10 racks of ribs, rub them, put the butts on, dress the kids, drink lots of coffee, yell at kids, "Stay away from the fire!"...dice onions, mince garlic, start beans...maintain fire, spritz butts, lay large log on coals......take kids to doctor for flu shots.................hoping fire is okay.............get home and assess butt situation, start fire in big smoker, throw ribs on, "Get along, or there will ZERO ice cream for a week! I'm serious!", maintain fire, baste ribs, "Dad, we want some brown sugar!!" "No, it's for the barbecue!"..."Okay, just a pinch."....I'm a pushover. Wrap ribs, warm butts, warm ribs...Then April gets home. Exhale. Pour strong drink. Repeat several times. God, I love it. An old buddy of mine, Matt Hornbeck, told me once as we were discussing what the hell we should do with our lives, "Do what makes you feel alive inside." Well man, here I am. I remember that statement. And I appreciate you. I feel alive. I feel grateful. My wife is legendary. My kids are ridiculous. Not gloating, not bragging, just reaffirming in my mind...when I feel like I'm just about to lose it, that this is my reality, and it fucking rules. Time for a bit more whisk to burn that cracked lip. Apparently that's what makes you feel alive inside.
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AuthorI am Earl. Archives
May 2024
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