Thoughts On Being Thankful

Thoughts On Being Thankful

Thanksgiving is approaching and although it's not as big a deal in my family as Christmas is, I always try and take a moment to remember what the holiday stands for. Figuratively. To be thankful.

I'm thankful for my family. They are always there and always support me. Even when I screw up and let me tell you, I've had some doozies. Family is first and foremost in my life; I've taken some hard knocks to learn that one.

Then there's my health. When I'm not popping out kidney stones or collecting yellow jacket stings or pulling muscles, my body is pretty solid. I eat healthily-although some would argue; I still believe pizza comprises all four food groups-and I can do just about anything important that needs doing.

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You Can't Catch Me!

You Can't Catch Me!

My parents are getting older. They're in their sixties now. While that's still relatively young by today's standards, they can't do things like they used to.

Every time I visit home, one or both of them is hobbling in some new way. Hips, knees, shoulders, ankles. Their bodies are slowly falling apart and sometimes, it's all they can do to get through the day without contracting some new ailment or injury.

Last week I was over there watching TV. I stretched out on the couch while my mom and dad sat in their respective favorite chairs, two high-back red leather recliners.

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The Brotherhood of the Traveling Boxers

The Brotherhood of the Traveling Boxers

My friend Jeff and I were heading out for burgers when he pulled the top of his boxers out of his pants and said, "You know how long I've had these?"

Usually when I hear a rhetorical question, I answer with something outlandish. Like "Gary Oldman." Or "three". Or "blue roses." But this time, Jeff caught me off guard. I said, "Nope, how long."

"Thirteen years." He smiled like he'd just learned the next lottery numbers* from a psychic. *(Net proceeds go to education)

"Thirteen years?" I replied. I patted him on the back. "Your girlfriend would be proud."

Jeff, still smiling, said, "I had them before her."

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Long Schlongs

Long Schlongs

I learned something this past weekend that disturbs me. My four year old nephew Joey has a big schlong. It's so big that it gets talked about. The boy is set for life.

I didn't learn this by giving him a bath or anything. I learned it from my mom.

The other day, she gave his six year old brother a bath. He was sitting on a tub chair and the water lapped just above his privates. He yelled for my mom to look! "Look! My weenie's floating!"

My mom laughed and said something like, "Good, good. Now turn around and let me get behind your ears."

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