Sound Of Silence

I'm out of town again for a bit, enjoying all our great nation has to offer. Like pork and rye.

Before leaving, however, I needed a bit more quality time with the angels God has sent to Earth in the form of my children. I got home the other night with a short few minutes to spare before I had to go make the world safe for Truth, Justice, and the American Way. As always, one would think I'd know better.

My Lovely Bride's cell phone broke recently. Note the use of a passive sentence construction, reflecting how it was destroyed by supernatural forces. In any event, she needed a new one now, before the contract ran out. How else would she provide me with regular tips on being a better person?

My oldest son's phone was also getting old, as in being the wrong color, and if one must renegotiate a contract, one might as well renegotiate two. The problem is that middle son has also been promised a phone for the class trip next spring. With negotiations going on, this is the time to get one, but early delivery would make oldest son's head explode. At the same time, seeing his brother get a second phone would make middle son's head explode. My children, Rock and Hard Place. Solution? Make delivery of middle son's phone contingent on good behavior.

It was into this house of horrors I walked.

Middle son. "YOU LOVE HIM MORE THAN ME!"

Oldest son. "Can you blame them?"

Youngest son. Upstairs loudly singing holiday songs.

Katie the black lab. Headbutts me in the groin over the possibility of getting fed.

Lovely Bride, sarcastically. "Yay, Daddy's home."

For the love of God. I go to the refrigerator, scrounge around, don't find much. I grab a handful of shaved turkey, shove most of it in my piehole, throw the rest to the dog.

Middle son. "Why do you and Mom hate me?"

Oldest son. "Mom's cool. Dad hates all of us. He's mean."

Youngest son. "I PLAYED MY DRUM FOR HIM, PA RUM PUM PUM PUM!"

Katie the black lab. Headbutts me in the groin over the possibility of getting more turkey.

Lovely Bride, looking at me knowingly. "I am cool."

I stuff materials in my briefcase, grab a Diet Coke, and prepare to leave.

Middle son. "YOU'RE IGNORING ME!"

Oldest son. "Ignore him Dad. He's stupid."

Youngest son. "DREIDEL, DREIDEL, DREIDEL, I MADE YOU OUT OF CLAY!"

Katie the black lab. Headbutts me in the groin over the possibility of coming with me.

Lovely Bride, smirking. "Thanks for the help, sweetheart."

Pork and rye. Pork and rye.