Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Sassy Pants

Crazy Train (of thought)

Please visit my new website, www.gregoryelang.com.

Treasurer Peter Costello of Australia recently said: "This is OUR COUNTRY, OUR LAND, and OUR LIFESTYLE, and we will allow you every opportunity to enjoy all this. But once you are done complaining, whining, and griping about Our Flag, Our Pledge, Our Christian beliefs, or Our Way of Life, I highly encourage you take advantage of one other great Australian freedom, 'THE RIGHT TO LEAVE.’” Can we get him to run for office in the US?

Linley and her girl gang were singing in the car on the way to church the other day - some song with urban lyrics about dancing your booty off. As I pulled into the church parking lot Linley quickly turned down the sound and looked at me in the most serious way. “I can’t believe you let me listen to that stuff,” she said, “its corrupting me.” When all were out of the car they held hands and skipped merrily into the church to attend an evening youth program. Yep, I’m corrupting her alright. Gonna do it some more, too.

It cracks me up when I get those “free” writing skill evaluations to see if I’m talented enough to enroll in a writing course. I finally responded and sent in a little poem, something about rocket's red glare and bombs bursting in air. I wonder if I’ll get in.

Faults are thick where love is thin.

Surely I’m not the only one who sees the rich irony in the outraged radical Muslim’s call for the execution of the Pope after he referenced a quote that asserted they were a violent people. Now think hard on this – do you really believe we can “just get along” with folks who think like that? Not me, not for a heartbeat.

I have a friend who is a multitasker. She likes sunbathing and keeping her yard neat, so she drives her riding lawnmower in the nude. No joke.

Marital Bliss

Last night at a dinner party this woman kept flirting with me, making come hither gestures with her eyes and moaning and grunting at me in highly suggestive ways. Jill just stood by and watched, unperturbed at the scene this lady was making. With my wife listening, this woman even became bold enough to begin whispering of what she would do to me if she could get her hands on me. Seeing that my wife could not care less about this woman who was practically ready to take me right there on the dining room table, I asked my aggressor if she thought she could teach me a thing or two. She smiled sassily and assured me that in her seventy-two years she had learned plenty, quite enough to shake me right off my foundation.

Kid-bytes

Our girls are not with us this week; it is the time they are with their other families; it is the time Jill and I miss them so much. It is the time I replay my favorite interactions with each of them in my head to keep me smiling and laughing, like:

Meagan spending her morning snooze minutes sitting in my lap, head on my shoulder.

Linley rubbing my head like a lucky charm before going into whatever competition awaits her.

Meagan making dinner for me from scratch for Father’s Day.

Linley and I dancing the tango in the kitchen in our socks, only to slip on the floor and land in a pile.

Meagan’s first driving lessons.

Teaching Linley how to make funnel cakes (big mistake!).

Meagan and I crying together as we watch people get baptized.

Linley’s broad smile as Jill and I watched her cheer during half-time.

The look of sheer delight in Meagan’s eyes when I took her to NYC to see The Beauty and The Beast.

The look of sheer delight in Linley’s eyes when I let her talk me into a Caramel Mocha Frappacino with extra whipped cream for breakfast.

The tears in Meagan’s eyes the first time she read Why a Daughter Needs a Dad.

There are so many. I love being a Dad.

Book Report

Another email about “Why a Daughter Needs a Dad” I received recently from a loving father:

“Your book is amazing. My daughter has a Daddy Box she made that she looks at every week when I travel. If not for your book that I read each week when I fly, I would feel like such a loser being away from my daughters. I just have to explain to every passenger that sits next to me why I am crying. It’s a good cry though. I thank you for putting into words my daily feelings.”

I feel his pain. I remember the days living in a hotel and praying the plane would get me home on time. I’m so grateful to all of you who have purchased my books; it made it possible for me to leave the corporate world and stay home to take care of my family.

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