Hoosier Dad

November 6, 2008

Trip to Hickville, Part 1

Filed under: Rant,Wife — molokopluss @ 6:58 pm
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A few weeks ago the wife and I travelled to see her sister in Missouri.    Miss Sister is a teacher in the middle of nowhere, where all they do is drink and hang out getting hammered.

We were invited that Saturday to go with Miss Sister to a teacher friend’s house to hang.   I was excited – maybe there really ARE some cultured folks out here!      

I walked in the kitchen to find the fridge to stash my Sam Adams.    As I walked in, I saw the faintest gleam of green and yellow out of the corder of my eye.   “Sweet farm implements!”  I exclaimed, as I realized I was in a John Deere themed kitchen.   I kid you not, they had the wallpaper.   The border.  The curtains.   The towels.  The pot holders.   They even had decorative tins on top of the cabinets, all emblazoned with the fabled Yellow and Green.  

I shook my head as I squeezed my beer in between the Budweiser and the box of wine.  I quickly looked for an exit, and escaped to the outdoor deck.  

I stepped into the abyss.  

They were grilling burgers in the dark.  Pitch black.   I asked the fellow tending to the flame if he had any outdoor light.   He said yeah, but it attracts the “skeeters”.    I didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was too cool now and all of the skeeters had been killed of weeks ago, so we stood there in the darkness.

Looking for a conversation, I asked one of the local yokels for a smoke.    I scored one but of course no one had a light.  “Want me ta smoke it fer ya too??  Heeh hhehhh” was the response I got.   The tender of the flame offered to light it for me.  

He takes the cig from me and sticks right in between the grates to the flame below.   “Dang it, light you ferkin’ homo!”    I swear to GOD the guy called the cigarette a homo.   I have heard them called “fags”, but never the H-word. 

He hands me my greasy burger-infused cig and we continue with our conversation.    He tells a few off color Obama jokes.   I tell a few on-target Bush jokes.   He gets red faced, and waves his grill tool in my face.  

“DO YOU LOVE QUEERS?” he yells. 

I said no, but I do love a good cigarette now and then.


October 17, 2008


Filed under: Junior,Rant,Wife — molokopluss @ 7:56 pm
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Last night the Wife had to go back to work at 7pm for something, leaving me home for 45 minutes with Junior.   As soon as she walked out the door he started to wail so hard he couldn’t catch his breath. 

I make myself a cocktail so I cope with this problem.

At times like these I feel like a ginormous failure.    He doesn’t want any of the toys I give him.  He just throws the lighter and bottle caps on the floor.   I can only say, “dude, shut the fuck up” so many times.    The more he cries the faster I drink.    

Sweet buzz, please kick in.   

The Wife refused my request to pick up more booze on the way home, so I’m stuck drinking homemade strawberry wine.  My brother made it, and it isn’t bad, but because it isn’t very well filtered it does give me a headache.

 I was catchin’ a buzz by the time I was 3/4 of the way through the bottle.  Considering the high quality vino,  I drank it out of a glass tumbler rather than a mason jar glass.    I know, I’m so high class.

Anyways, we were sitting there in the rocking chair, him facing away from me for fear of him busting one of my ear drums, when I bust into the Kermit the Frog version of “Hurt” by Nine Inch Nails.   He was completely entranced with my Kermit the Frog voice and immediately ceased to cry.   I turned him around to face me.   I sang the whole song including a reprise of the bridge.   “What have I become….   my sweetest friend….”    

OF COURSE as soon as I stop he burst into tears.    I started “Hurt” again and he stopped.    This time, he kind of nuzzled in to me and layed his head back.   By the time I finished the second time he was out.   I mean hardcore, baby-snoring that you worry if he’s ever going to wake up kind of sleep.

About five minutes later the Wife came home.  She was amazed at my ability to get him down and out.   She was not impressed my my ability to kill a bottle of wine at the same time.  

Needless to say he slept from 8pm until 6:06am.   Ten hours and 6 minutes of sweet dead silence.   


This morning I downloaded the video of “Hurt” so next time I can let the laptop sing him to sleep.

October 15, 2008

The Talk

Filed under: Rant,Wife — molokopluss @ 5:47 pm
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Things had been going along really well last night – until she decided we needed to talk.   And not just any talk, but a no prior warning sneak attack sit-in-front-of-the-TV-to-force-me-to-pay-attention-to-her talk.  

Why do they do that?  

Does she not think it’s going to piss me off?   We have a DVR, so all she had to do is ask me to pause it or wait for a commerical. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Of course she is complaining about me.  

Evidently, I haven’t been pulling my weight with Junior and around the household.   I admit that she does more than I do with him, but only because she is breast feeding him.   She is also more in tune with what she needs to take to the sitter everyday.   Because of our weird schedules and commutes we have a strange AM routine that (somehow) completely takes me out of baby prep in the mornings.   She wants to “figure this out”.  I tell her I do what I can in the number of hours in a day, and if she had any suggestions.   “No, but you know I do more!”   

Yes, Dear.        

So her big interruptive speech boiled down to her asking me to help more, but not really have any ideas of how I can do that.   I tell her that unless she has a specific example there is little I can do to help, because I feel like I am doing what I can.   Her response:  “Don’t be an asshole, just help me out here.”

All that is left to do is change the subject.  I make the look-around-the-wife-at-the-tv move and she pops up and storms out of the room.

Thank you for wasting my time.

October 13, 2008

Weekender Wrapper

Filed under: Junior,This Old House,Wife — molokopluss @ 7:18 pm
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Per my inquisitive neighbor, the folks who came to look at our house on Thursday drove up, look one look, and drove off.    Hearing that did wonders for our hopes and dreams of getting rid of the pit once and for all,  LET ME TELL YA!!!

First of all, do they not realize how big of a pain in the ass it is to clear out of your house with an hours notice?  Wife and I were both at work, and we literally had 15 minutes at home before they were scheduled to walk through.   I find that a bit disrespectful, and if I knew them I would yank them back by their head and deliver a throat punch or two.


So anyways, the folks two houses down the street were in rare form Saturday AM.   2:45am, to be exact.   I was sleeping peacefully when I hear a damn domestic disturbance.   Two guys yelling back and forth in their methneck slang 30 feet from our bedroom window.  

Guy 1:   “Come on ya damn faggitt!!!”

Guy 2:  “Come on pussy!    FUCK YOU!”

Guy 1: “I ain’t scared of you!”

Guy 2: “Get back here, where you goin’?”


Ding, ding, ding.      This was enough for Wife to grab the phone and call the cops.   I venture to the front door to get a closer look.  By this time, Guy 1 had charged and grabbed his opponent by the shirt.  Guy 2 is swinging wildly in the glow of the street light, maybe connecting once or twice.  MAYBE.    They were both visible stumbling around and were definitely under the influence of something.   After this brief scrum I think they took a beer break. 


After about a minute they both swagger back out into the street for round 2.  This time Miss Meth, who actually lives in the house two down, is out to try and break it up.   

Oh, and still no police.  NICE. 

They have another round of “Fagggooot!” and “PUSSY!” and the fight resumes.   Another brief melee.   This time, it ends with Guy 2 throwing two kids in his beat up Olds 88 and driving off.  

The End.    

The cops did show up but too late to break them up.  Guy 1, Miss Meth and her other kids, who came out as the second skirmish was wrapping up, had gone back inside shortly after the getaway.  

I (heart) my neighborhood.


After Wife gave birth to Junior 4.5 months ago we were looking forward to getting back into the swing of our normal regimen of sexual activity.   We were a 4 times a week couple before she got preggers.  We ha d a very healthy physical relationship.    7 years of marriage and we still dug it…  a lot.  

Post-preggers and post-healing we have been trying to get back into it, but pregnancy really laid waste to her body, more so that other post pregger folks I have had the pleasure of having carnal knowledge of in the past.  

Stretch marks.   Her stomach looks like it has a weird dark Van Gogh painting of flames on it.  The sides of her stomach sag, badly.    

The Zone.   Somehow, the doctor actually TIGHTENED her.   I always thought it would be different, but not in that way.  It is downright painful sometimes for her because of the stretching, and prohibits us from enjoying our favorite positions.  IT SUCKS, and it makes her very hesitant to jump my needy bones. 

Anyways, this weekend we said screw it, we are not going to let this probit us.    I told her maybe all we need to do is stretch that area out again, and I had the perfect plan.   Needless to say we had fun, and seemed to almost be back to our old selves in the sack. 



October 10, 2008

The first rule of book club is there is no such thing as book club

Filed under: Book Club is a SHAM,Junior,Wife — molokopluss @ 5:45 pm
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The secret is out.

The book club my wife belongs to is a sham.  It is nothing but a front for anywhere from three to twelve women to hang out in a bar and drink pints of girly beer for three hours.   Sure, she buys the book or picks it up from the library.   She’ll even read some of it to make sure her cover isn’t blown.  

I am on to her though, let that be known.

This Old House

Filed under: Junior,This Old House,Wife — molokopluss @ 2:09 pm
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The Wife and I are in the process of selling our house.   With the arrival of Junior we have found our 1000 sq/ft house a bit cramped.   It has the feel of a prarie dog village.. crawling from cramped room to cramped room over the ever growing mountains of baby implements.   This house was fine for the two of us, but now we need to expand and to do so we need more space.   

Our house has been on the market now for about a month and NOT ONE PERSON HAS BEEN TO SEE IT.   We blame it on the economy and the general panic regarding anything to do with real estate or loans.  We did price is about 2% higher than market value so when we sell we can do so right at market.     

We are suffering from the financial down turn, that is for sure. 

Normally, houses in our neighborhood sell in a few months, tops.  Sometimes the sign never make it up in the front yard.    So, the fact that we haven’t had one bite yet is telling if not worrisome.

Another possible factor?   Rednecks and urban trash.   Our neighborhood has went to shit lately.   When we moved in abck in 2002 it was an older established neighborhood filled with elderly and retired folks.   Quiet street with well maintained lawns.  As these orignal owners moved, a younger crowd moved in.    By young I do not mean the hip young crowd (which we are part of, of course) but the redneck park-the-truck-in-the-front-yard crew.    The type that actually DO tell their kids to go play in the street until dark.   

Anyways, last night we had our first nibble.   The Wife ran home and got the place presentable before they came.   I made it home about 20 minutes before the realtor was to arrive and show it.   While the Wife was nursing Junior I made a quick swoop down the street to get most of the junk out of sight.   I’ll be damned if the first thing people see is a junky ass neighborhood!

We made it out and went to the grocery for an hour and grabbed dinner.   We sat eating our nachos and burritos staring at each other, wondering what these people thought of our place and if we’d get an offer on it.  

We are anxiously waiting to hear from the realtor today.  Nobody gets an offer from the first people who see it, right?      It will be fine if we don’t get an offer.   Part of me is hesitant to move.   But it would make my day if we did.

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