Showing posts with label roundboy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label roundboy. Show all posts

Friday, July 9, 2010

PEE PEE IN THE POOL

Al Gore warned us! Its happening right now, as we speak. Global warming has made it to Pitman New Jersey! This heatwave following the harshest winter in decades makes me think maybe Gore did invent the internet. Its friggin hot!

I would jump in my pool but of course I invited the neighbor kids to jump in and cool off yesterday, with the sign plainly displayed on the fence two feet from the pool pleading for them not to pee in the pool, I saw each and everyone of them make the face. Yes the pee pee face, every one of them! I gave them a scowl and they all just looked at me, smiled and said, “whaaaat?” You better not be doing what I think you're doing!” “whaaaaaaaaaat????????” they squealed.

I saw the boy in the group raise and lower his eyebrows three times, I knew that look; I had made the same look many times myself, usually at halftime of an Eagles game when the score is close. Two full quarters worth of relief, second best feeling in the world. I really didn't want to continue the volleyball game of questions answered by questions so I shook my head and went back into my air conditioned cave.

The rule was they could swim if one of their parents would stand watch, I was in no mood to play lifeguard. So the neighbor's son's girlfriend sat on their porch and watched the kids in my pool not 10 feet away. She was not happy about it and sat with a sour face that made her look like a mean third-grader, you know, that girl that would beat up the boys and who was only happy and laughed when she was inflicting pain and punishment on somebody. I could hear her snapping at them as I slid my patio door shut and sealed out the heat and chaos.

After about the better part of an hour I was sitting in my recliner and writing some comedy material on my laptop with some obscure program playing on the TV in the background. I heard my door slide open and my Golden Retriever Bear awoke from his summer slumber and lifted his head with a half hearted “wuff”.

The four of them, dripping wet and pissed off I hadn't heard them knocking. They marched through my kitchen and into my dining room. “We bin knockin!!!” hands on hips the 6 year old snapped at me. “Sorry Guys I didn't hear you, I was working.” “that's how you work????” The 11 year old said as she twisted up her face and stared in disbelief. “Who pays you to do THAT????” I stared at her with a blank expression, said nothing for almost an entire minute, it took at least 45 seconds for her to appear the least bit uncomfortable, the two 10 year olds in the back just remained silent and watched on like they were spectators at a bull fight not really sure which side to be on.

Finally, she broke away from my stair and the little one said in a frail voice, “we wanna go home”. I looked down at their feet and saw the small pond that had developed from their dripping bodies. “OK guys, did you leave any water in the pool?” The 6 year old was picking up on the sarcasm and didn't appreciate it one bit. “YESSSSSssssss” she said with a heavy sigh, “you're silly” she was obviously the speaker of the group.

She turned her head, looked back to the others and nodded it toward the door, “Lets go” she rolled her eyes and jerked her head towards me as if to say to the other “ppppfffftttt, this guy” they marched out the front door still dripping and leaving a trail of droplets across my floor and out the door as the door was shutting I heard the little one say almost like a song, “You need to clean your pool, the water turned green!!!”

It made me stop typing, the water was crystal clear, we had just algaecided, chlorinated, stabilized and clarified the damn thing, cost over $50 in chemicals to get it that way. I closed my laptop, de-reclined from my chair and shuffled my slippered feet to the patio door. I stood there, in disbelief as I stared at what looked like a retention pond off of Bartram Ave in Philly. The water was an unfamiliar shade of blue-green, with what appeared to be a fine white mist about a foot below the surface. The steps disappeared into the murk after the third step, the center drain was impossible to see.

How could they have done this in such a short time. How much asparagus could they have eaten that would turn their urine into this horrid pollutant? I looked at my deliciously refreshing oasis in the middle of Pitman, it was now something that I could blame on BP. I had shocked my pool many times, this was the first time it shocked me.

As I turned away from the 18,000 gallon urinal in my yard I saw Dotty standing in her bathing suit, inside the sliding glass door. Her arms were folding in an angry pose, her eyes tightened and her lips thinned. I couldn't hear her through the door but I could read hell lips, the first words I won't repeat, but the final two words before she locked the door, trapping me out in the 100 degree tundra was “FIX IT!”

I was in exile from the air until it was again clear. I had a better chance of walking on that water than I did clearing it up in a few minutes. I scratched at the back door like a cat left out in the rain until Dotty answered, “What do you want good Samaritan?” “An empty water bottle, the keys and a pair of real shoes, I'm taking over a sample” The air in the Caddy blew ice cold and I figured it was better than sweating and staring. Dotty slid the door open just enough to give me what I asked for...no more....no less.

I took over my water sample and the result were in....high PH...the girl behind the counter told me what I already knew, “you have a lot of kids huh? You need to talk about peeing in the pool!” “Thanks! How long will it take to clear up and do you mind if I browse in your air until then?”

Empty Nesting

Empty nesting...its a term I've heard about....seldom thought about....until now.

Three weeks ago Jimmy, Shea and Tony rented a place in Deptford. Meaning Shea and Tony were moving out of the house. For about two weeks before the move everyone was busy, running around trying to put together last minute details. Dotty and I went about our lives as if it really wasn't going to happen.

You see, Ellen moved out when she was 19. Same age as me when I left home. The boys took longer. Jimmy left for the navy when he was 21 and while we were in Punta Cana the year I made Invincible, 2005. The day before we left he dropped the bomb. Great way to start a vacation right? Well that actually turned out to be the best move my son ever made, he went away, saw the world and learned a lot of lessons. He came home a man. Still Jimmy. Just a more responsible, sensible Jimmy. Of course the week long party that went on while he was home alone and we were in the Dominican Republic was epic and will live forever as a fable of Pitman parties to end all Pitman parties as told by participants, spectators and police for generations to come.

But Shea, well lets just say, Shea was in no hurry to move out and Dotty was quite fine with that. Me, deep down never wanted any of them to leave but, all little birds must leave the nest and spread their wings, fly little bird...fly...Its a Dad's thankless job to push you along, get you on your way. Something I would rather not have done but had to.

I would drop subtle hints and wise-cracks about moving every time we would have a small incidental disagreement. He would be like, “I don't think so, I would have done it this way” and on the rare but inevitable event he was I would reply, “Get an apartment” and walk away. I never, with any of them, told them to get out. I threatened it many times. Asked hypothetically what they would do, where they would go if I did, just to humble them up a bit, never really would though. Both Ellen and Jimmy did the “I'm running away” thing, which was really no more than an extended summer sleep over at a friends house where the parents were as unaware of it as we were. Both came home on the third day, hands on hips announcing how they had run away and nobody cared. “Oh, sorry, we knew you were at the Larson's, you ran away? What's sa'matter? Let's have a cheese-steak and talk about it!”

Well it happened anyway, the boys got the house after half a dozen “for sure” places fell through. So, the day came and went very non-ceremonially. Shea was at his second job delivering pizzas until 8pm so he really didn't show up until later that night. Tony, one of my wrestlers that stayed with us since high school whenever he was home from college, did most of the running with Jimmy stopping by to borrow our luggage to pack his clothes.

I told him I thought that was odd packing a suitcase to move, but Jimmy is a little odd. He's an anal slob. I didn't think that was possible until my son came along. He would arrange his dirty dishes in his room so they were all organized, not clean, not in the kitchen sink, but organized on his nightstand!! All the dirty spoons in a dirty glass inside a dirty coffee mug, inside four dirty bowls, sitting next to three quarter filled vitamin water bottles all lined up in a row, with two Gatorade bottles with dip spit neatly rowed up next to them.

I figured since Shea worked late he wasn't getting much done that night. He came by grabbed his toothbrush and some toiletries Dotty insisted on him taking and he gave me a kiss on the cheek and a hug as I was reclined asleep in my chair. I had passed out about a half an hour before he got there around 11pm. Dotty was a mess, but recovered quickly, at least she put up that front. I assumed he would come by on Sunday and finish up, that was three weeks ago!

Empty Nesting my ass!! Nothing about my nest is empty! All his stuff is still here! He came by in the middle of the night while were sleeping and took his box spring and mattress. We found this out by walking through what looked like snow all over my staircase leaded down from the bedrooms to the living-room. “What the....????” I looked up and saw a well defined Nike swoop of missing popcorn on the ceiling were the box-spring had negotiated the turn in the stairs.

I had no coffee in me yet and couldn't seem to muster an emotion. I half smiled as I envisioned the scene of Shea and Tony trying to get the bed out without waking us up. The two of them doing the screaming whisper, you know where you yell at somebody but it comes out as angry wisps and rasps, you can hear the heat in the escaping air. I'm sure my son saw it scrape the ceiling, he probably made a face, groaned, maybe even cursed, didn't clean it up, but stared at it for a while shaking his head followed by a shoulder shrug and an about face.

After filling my cup, I ventured upstairs to view what I thought would be a quiet father moment, me in my slippers and pj's, sipping a cup of joe, looking at an empty room. Thinking of my eyes welling up as I saw the fresh, unfaded blocks on the walls where posters and framed jerseys had hung for the better part of two decades. After a long paused moment I turned the knob to enter the vast void that was my boys' room.

Well, I tried to enter, I pushed and the door opened a foot, no more. I saw a four foot pile of clothes directly to the right of the door. My eyebrows lowered as I leaned my shoulder into the door. It took some effort to get it open to the point I could squeeze my butt past the jam. The room was wall to wall!!

The bed frame sat naked in the middle of the floor no box spring, no mattress. The barren place that should have been inside the frame was filled with assorted articles of clothing, dirty dishes, a shoe box (very suspect of shoe boxes!! mainly 'cause I have one myself!!), a half of a soft pretzel, no longer soft, more like a monument to a pretzel, granite in texture. There was a stain that was in the shape of Elvis' Head or Jesus, depending on the angle of your view It was on the only bare spot left in the room, so it was impossible to identify the rugs true hue.

The room had actually lost its identity, when you think of a room you imagine four walls in a square or rectangular fashion, at least that's what I believe every little baby room aspires to grow up to be, this poor room had a pile of clothes stacked three or more feet high in all four corners, giving it the illusion of being in the middle of a large bowl.

I looked to my left and right quickly scanning the room for any signs of Chewy, Luke or Hans cause it felt like I was inside a giant refuse container. I thought I saw Princess Leia but it turned out to be a half inflated blow up doll, I think that would have been something I took on my first trip, but hey that's me.

I stood in as close to the middle of the room as I could get and did a 360. Medals and posters still nailed to the walls. Some had duct tape holding them on, sound black electrical tape. They had finishing nails, framing nails, roofing nails and a few 3” drywall screws holding up an assortment of stuff never meant to hang on a wall, like Jimmy's new aluminum bat he broke hitting a triple off of Chris Rose in a senior league game back in 8th grade and a wooden plaque with the picture removed leaving a blank clear plastic sleeve.

A Mexican blanket nailed up over a structured hole in the wall I put there to sink their chest so it wouldn't take up as much room but, because I left the sides open to the eves it scared them so they pulled the chest out of the wall and covered it, big babies!!

I saw a few things I just couldn't identify, I felt it better not to investigate, I was still just halfway through my first cup and wasn't sure how my morning stomach would hold up if I saw something intolerable.

The doorless closet, where the doors went I haven't a clue, they were just...gone, was packed solid with folded clothes stacked up from the floor to the stuff hanging, a virtual wall of clothes. When did he get all these clothes? Did he ever throw anything away? What made that stain? How long had it been since I was in here? The questions swirled in my head simultaneously, like having five of me all yelling at the same time, the chaos of the room was consuming me, pulling me into the abyss of clutter. I shook it off and came out of my mid-morning stupor. I looked around again and felt as though I had woken up in the middle of an episode of “Hoarders”. The roof could have collapsed and it wouldn't budge over this room, supported by pillars of denim and polyester.

I saw the neck of a guitar poking out from behind some sweatshirts and attempted to free it from its snare of hoodies. I pulled it away to expose what looked like soot stained flame mark coming from a melted outlet!! What the????? I shook my head as I made the sign of the cross and looked up to heaven, “thanks for being here that night Big Guy!!” I humbly whispered.

As I turned to leave I saw three baskets of dirty clothes that had splashes of pink, purple and yellow strew throughout. It just didn't fit. I decided to take a closer look and as I crouched down to take a peer with my squinting unassisted eyes I saw a bra and several thongs all balled up in the top basket. Chelsea had cleaned out her room and filled the vacant space that was the boys room with her laundry!! The boys weren't gone 24 hours and she had begun to move in, dirty clothes first!

I carried down from the room to the kitchen 14 spoons!! Yep 14!! Since they left we now have two slots worth of spoons in the silver drawer! An assortment of mugs and glasses along with the lone remaining plate we have from a set we got as a wedding gift. Dot was happy to see it still around.

I finished my coffee and pulled out the milk which without the boys around had soured; for first time ever we had milk go bad before it was gone.

I called my son. “Hey Boy!! What's your bedroom look like?”
“You'd be proud of me Dad, clean and tidy, not even any dirty clothes on the floor!” he beamed.
“That's cause its all still here!!"
Second cup.....