Baseball season is three days away! Since I’m in a fantasy baseball league I’ll really be paying attention this year because if I win that means coinnage! So once the Reds go into complete suck mode by the middle of summer I’ll still be actively interested. I love baseball, I love that my daughter loves baseball/softball. One day maybe she excels at it (not going to push her I’m not THAT dad), you know how every athlete got good at something. By going to frigging practice! Sloane was another no-show tonight due to the little unknown Indiana law that at age seven you go on solitary confinement at 7:30 p.m. That’s bed time….oops I mean couch time. If this isn’t using a child as a weapon to piss me off than cite me another example. I’m going to make this a teaching moment for Sloane about statistics and have her ask all her classmates what they were doing at 7:30 p.m. last night. Kind of like the Rasmussen poll they do for elections, this will be the “Idiocy” poll. I’m willing to bet a left gonad, a stack of Katy Perry CD’s, and my future career in Ex-Wife Voodoo Dolls manufacturing the number is no more than ONE!
Since I’m now pissed off I’m totally changing my mind on what I wanted to write about tonight. It was going to be a boring post about me rescuing six kittens and an elderly woman from the twelfth story of an apartment fire that just happened to be raging while I was on my walk this evening. Who wants to hear about that? God bless her though she gave me a 50% off coupon to Burger King and promised me a kitten when hers procreate. I told her “I’m good” besides my Russian KGB hamster probably wouldn’t want a kitten in the house. She gave me a quizzical look and asked me if I gotten into her medicinal marijuana. Nope I’m just “high” on life ma’am enjoy your evening and call me if you need any help with anything in the future.
See I’m a nice guy just ask my daughter’s egg donor. No what really has me worked up after I thought about it, besides softball practice, is my daughter since June sleeps on a effing couch over there. I’ve mentioned it before, but after another pick up/drop off session of packing all my daughter’s gear (blankets and stuffed animals) I literally almost vomited on the absolute putrid smell of cat piss or whatever funk Sloane sleeps in over there. I wash her blankets every weekend I have her, on weeknights that is a little tougher because of the time constraints. Sloane is a creature of habit and has to have all her blankets as much as I’ve begged and pleaded with her to sleep with my blanket or another blanket instead of her soiled sleepwear. Back to the point, since June 30th, 2014 any night Sloane has been at her mother’s she sleeps on a couch. Not some bed with princesses and princes, and all her toys surrounding her, no a frigging couch. Her mother sleeps in a bed, her grandparents sleep in a bed, but Sloane sleeps on a couch. A couch that evidently reeks of raw sewage discharge judging by the scent of her blankets. Yes I go to bed at night still wondering why she doesn’t get to stay with me half the time. If any single mom or dad reading this wants to give me grief on why she may not be able to afford one I will remind you she lives rent free, mostly bill free, only pays 25% of school tuition and some how can still swing two tanks of gas (I used be part owner of that vehicle so call it and educated guess) every free weekend for the past eight months. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention our salaries are very comparative.
On a more positive note on situations I have 100% control of I had lunch with my daughter today at school which is always a blast. I’m a rock star with those second graders now, I even had one of the other kids ask if I could sit with them. Sloane was quick to interject herself in the conversation with “HE’S MY DAD, not yours” so naturally I sat with my quick witted (where did she get that from) daughter. Between telling stories of epic food fights of my generation and solving second grade relationship problems, it was fun as always. The icing on the cake was another of my adopted adolescent pals asking me how come Sloane’s mom never comes for lunch. Work I guess is what I told him, unfortunately she always seems to find the time to visit her lawyer while she is at work but I guess scheduling a lunch date with her daughter isn’t nearly as important. I’m lucky that I have opportunities in the winter and on shitty weather days to get out of the office to go see my daughter at lunch. As I’ve said before the joy in seeing that blonde bomber coming running at me 100 mph is something that will never get old. She’s in second grade right now next year in third grade hopefully she’s grown a couple of inches so I don’t have to, ahem, turn away from her to avoid a direct hit to that one gonad I have left after conducting my not so scientific survey mentioned earlier.
About it for the night, I’ve got a phone interview to conduct with a local news crew on my heroics from earlier today and then make some roster moves on my baseball team. Plus Hammy is already bitching about wanting more vodka, everybody sleep well tonight in their BED!