For the Love of Ray-J

When I'm sick in bed, a lot races through my mind, man. I've been laid up for three days with this fever, stomach, no energy thing. I scraped up enough energy to do my show tonight, but it was a scrape. Now I'm exhausted again. Granted, the days off from work were fruitful, as I did a lot of publishing grunt work and a great deal of school work for my MSW class. All the extra daytime sleep has kept me up at night, however. Take last night. I was texting my friend in Cincinnati at 2am. He's a funny dude, always texting me "I love you bro!" just because he's like Barnabas the encourager. Then around 3a.m., I started thinking about starting a new phrase/expression that will hopefully catch on. I'm thinking the next time someone pushes my buttons I'm going to say, "for the love of Ray J, knock it off!" I want that to become so commonplace that my grandchildren will say it and not know the origin. But I will. It's from an absurd R&B/VH1 narcissist formerly living in his sister's shadow who presently exploits himself and others in hopes it will give his music career a needed push since his last hot single fizzled just about 2 years ago. I don't think the single was hot, for the blog record. Maybe in a couple of decades people will be saying "for the love of Ray J, cut me some slack," or "for the love of Ray J, leave me some Jello-O next time," etc. etc. and it will be just like The Dickens. I still say "that hurt like The Dickens." Why? Because my grandmother says it in her awesome Boston accent. She's been saying my entire life, thus, so do I. I don't know who The Dickens are, and I've never thought to ask. I just know that were hurt at some point in time to the point of inspiring an expression. Ray-J's going to be a legacy. Not the artist; my new expression. Man, the stuff insomnia inspires....

No barking

Man, I yelled at my kid last night. Not just a quick loss of temper, either. More like a bark. I'd been using a Scooby Doo voice for about 2 hours straight for her, and I decided it was time to give my vocal chords a rest. She did not concur. A long day, a week of illness, and setting the clock back messed her all up, so she was pretty tired. I failed to recognize just how exhausted she was, so when she threw a fit when I stopped doing the voice, refused to turn off the TV, refused to brush her teeth, refused to pee, and refused to go upstairs to bed, I just sort of lost it and literally barked at her. My sister heard it downstairs in her apartment. Dang. The Fruit of the Spirit is self control, right?
I woke her up this morning and started the Scooby voice right away. From getting dressed to making her lunch, to putting her in the car, I stayed in character. She forgave me, man.

I never thought I'd be that dad that writes a blog about all of the stuff his kid says that really isn't quite so entertaining to everybody else, but man, my kid really got me the other night.

I was impatient. She wouldn't listen. I'd had a long day. A lot of social work. A lot of music responsibilities. Tired. She wouldn't eat her dinner. She wouldn't take a bath. She wouldn't brush her teeth. She wouldn't pee. Zero cooperation.

I tried my gentle voice. I tried taking stuff away. I tried time out. I tried to bribe her. Zero cooperation.

Finally, I yelled. I admit it. I lost my temper with the kid and went off on a rant. I'm pretty sure it scared her, but I was so overtired I didn't really notice. I tried to read her a book and pray, and she refused to participate. Then she wanted twenty kisses and hugs and for me to do our secret handshake before I left the room.
It goes: "pound, pound, lock it down, break the pickle, tickle tickle, 1,2,3,4 I declare a thumb war, sneak attack, patty cake, patty cake, E.T. phone home be good Elliot, we are best friends."

I did the handshake and left the room, and she came downstairs 2 minutes later. I put her back to bed. She did it again. I put her back to bed. She came down again. I screamed again. And again. And again. Finally, she grabbed her beanie baby and asked me her name. I refused to tell her because I was so heated. She insisted, so I checked the tag: "Grace."

Leave it to my kid. Working on the grace....