It started with a simple comment about underwear. My dad-in-law was over, along with my mom-in-law, for Christmas Eve dinner. The evening was filled with light conversation and a wonderful meal filled with Osso Buco, rissoto, and wine. With dinner over and us now gathered in the living room, he excused himself to the bathroom. It was upon his return and his simple questioning about “armor underwear” that I realized we are now in for a world of change where we can no longer talk about old people behind their backs, or in front of them, or when they go to the bathroom.
And it’s all Steve Jobs’ fault.
Some short backstory.
I was fairly content in my lack of planning to see the new “Star Wars: The Force Awakens,” but then came the Facebook taunts. Thank God, as I wrote on my Facebook post, for “Best. Wife. Ever.”
With Christmas season upon us, the decorations sprouting on houses that will annoy one and all when they aren’t taken down in a timely manner, and shopping in full force, there is one question that will be the toughest to answer, and that question is not what you should get your loved one so they won’t be disappointed, again, this year with your “thoughtful” gift that you picked up on Christmas Eve? No, the question will simply be, as you go to hang your Christmas wreath, should the bow go on the top or the bottom?
As the cold of winter was beginning to approach my wife decided to analyze my long-sleeved shirts, and it was decided that I need some replacements. I will say that one of the things I dread is shopping for clothes, mostly because I don’t really know what goes with what, although I did learn a trick from my Aunt and that was simply to look at the mannequins. Why? The stores aren’t going to dress them to look like crap, so if you pick out some clothes similar to the mannequins you will usually do fine.
I graduated in 1985. Yes, in the eyes of the youngins I am now the old guy. We also just had our 30 year reunion, another reunion that I missed. I missed my 10 year because of covering a Bon Jovi concert. I missed my 20 year because of supposed to be covering a Bon Jovi concert but that falling through. I missed my 30 year because I just couldn’t swing the time off, but ended up at a Chicago Cubs game. I’m thinking we should have a 33 year reunion in Chicago so maybe I can attend.
Only I could somehow tie together a visit by the spirit of my Mom with farts that smell like brownies. It’s what I do, and here’s how I do it.
I can’t believe I screwed this up.
