The boys are in a crap sandwich tonight, trapped trying to get medical supplies. This is why I keep an entire medical team hostage in my basement – just in case of a Zombie Apocalypse.
The Walking Dead
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My son, Kyle, the avid swimmer, is participating in the South Hampton Roads championships this Saturday. This is a pretty big deal for an 11 year old. He’s a strong freestyler, swimming in three different events.
We live over an hour from the meet’s location, so we’re staying in our trailer (travel trailer, 28 foot Outback, sleeps six comfortably, three more uncomfortably) nearby the event.
Normally, I have a checklist — more mental than on paper — for the stuff I need and need to remember to bring with me. It saves my attitude and sanity on the first day of my vacations.
I didn’t have the luxury of that level of prep this time. I found myself lacking as I was setting up the trailer. I had to buy some important stuff, like a water hose (!!!!) and the sewer grommet that allows your refuse hose to properly seal with the sewer. Kind of important stuff. Threw myself for a loop.
I never mind making fun of myself, because I am really just a dopey fool who does a pretty good job of over reaching his abilities. Constantly over excelling is good until you return to normal, and then you look like a total idiot or, worse, a practiced ass. I get a taste of kryptonite at least once a week. I hate it, but put up with it, ’cause I don’t have a choice.
It’s difficult being a mere mortal . . .