I probably should still be more awake than I am to be posting this, but the idea is in my head and I'm plugging forward.

My youngest son went with my wife to get some groceries. That in itself is an act worth blogging about. It just don't happen. Anywho, Son returns from shopping trip with a Box from Smiths. Enough said.

Oh, for those of you not Living In Bakersfield, California, Smiths is de Bomb, bakery wise. These guys are awesome. I have eaten their baked goods ever since I can remember. Oh, the stories I could tell.
So, the wife opened up the Smiths box, explains that our Son bought these and hands me this huge Maple bar. Somewhere in the fog of still trying to wake up from about 15 minutes ago I get these two thoughts - one is to just eat a bit of this and have a decent breakfast. Thought 2 was I ought to take a picture of this Bakery beauty to share with all my readers.
I get to talking to my wife about her shopping experience with our baby son (21 going on 14) in tow. Some where in the back of my head is this still quiet voice saying stop to the Maple bar again going into my mouth and me enjoying immensely the tastes flooding my mouth. Nom Nom Nom.
Some 30 seconds after the Maple bar has disappeared, I remember the plan of only eating a little bit and taking a picture of the stupid thing before even putting it to my lips - Ooops.

So maybe next time.

November 24th, 2008

Ok, Maybe the tittle is a misleading, because My son doesn't wear women's clothes. At least I am fairly sure of this. I have never seen him cross dressing, so maybe in his own time ...

but I don't think so.

No, what this is reference too was my wife going into town and grabbing a burger. While she was there she saw something she wanted to tell me about when she got back home.

Her: It's a good thing our son didn't go with me to get a Hamburger.

Me: Why? I asked.

Her: Well, I was sitting there waiting for them to bring out the food (Carside Food delivery) and there was this guy with long brown hair, shoulder length and a mustache and a beard.

Me: OK.

Her pausing: And he was wearing a shirt.

Me, wondering why I was getting this in bits and pieces: OK

Her - another dramatic pause

Me: And ...

I am now imaging some one streaking my wife.

Her: And he was wearing pants.

Me: Good!

Her: And he had on high heels.

Me: Oh. High Heels.

Her: Spikey high heels and he was sashaying. She now did this crazy wavy motion with her hands.



I had a good laugh over her hands trying to simulate sashaying.

Me: Yeah, I suppose our son would have had something to say about that for sure.

There.

I didn't catch my son in a red dress or anything. Just my wife catching some brave soul in very Conservative Downtown Bakersfield wearing Very High heels and not hiding the fact. Something you don't see every day in these parts. We are not San Francisco.

(EDIT: Look, I tried to find an Image of a guy wearing high heels, but now I feel the need to take a shower - that and wash my eyes out.)

August 27th, 2008

I have to make this on the sly. I don't want my wife to find this as I work on it. I was kind of told unofficially that I wasn't to use her conversations on the Internet anymore since I posted about her furry dream a while back. Actually she spelled it out to me in no uncertain manner, But I choose to remember it as a soso chewing out

Just a few Minutes ago: Sound of a phone is ringing.

My wife: "Is that you son?"

Son, Layed out on the couch, watching TV under the swampcooler. "What?"

Wife: "Is that your Phone ringing?"

Son: "That's on the TV."

Wife: "It sounded like it was in the living room."

Me: "Where do you think we have the TV at?" (It's in the Living Room.)

Wife: "But It sounded like the phone was ringing right there, not on the TV."




Me: "Oh, I remember when My wife was sane."

Wife: "It didn't sound like it was on the TV."

Son: "It didn't even sound like my phone."

Me: "Actually, we moved the TV into the Bedroom."

Wife: "Oh, Shut Up."