The happiest place on earth

There is something unusual about the atmosphere in a Chick-Fil-A.

It's friendliness.

Do they go out and hand-select the nicest people they can find? Or is there some sort of super-courtesy basic training boot camp?  I'm just going to assume it's the boot camp.  I am envisioning CFA troops in their black fatigues on an uphill march all saying things like "oh excuse me, sir" and "after you".

It might behoove me to just hang out in a Chick-Fil-A for a full day sometime, so that maybe some of that amiability will rub off on me, and I will be much less of a jerkface.

Coffee snobbery

I am a self admitted coffee snob.  One would rue the day they brought Folgers or any such nonsense into my home. 

I'm not saying that I would partake in a fifty dollar cup of cat poop coffee, but I also have little desire to drink hot murky rustwater.  

Here are some workplace coffee tips:
1) If you should choose to purchase the cheapest, nastiest swill available to you, please refrain from brewing as weak a pot as is possible.
2) Please clean the coffee maker at least once a year.  I don't think that is too difficult a task.

I have decided to bring my own miniscule coffee maker to work.  It brews just enough that no one would come and pilfer my coffee.  I would be loath to waste good coffee on an unrefined palate.

In somewhat related events, we shared a delightful coffee beverage from Starbucks recently, of which I gave Fisher a few sips.  Around three in the morning he woke up and called for me, and when I went into his room, he stood up and said "coffee?".  It was at that moment my thoughts turned from "just like his old man!" to "I've created a monster."

Language barrier

My son Fisher (or shishers as he call himself) is now two years old, which means two things:
 1) He is fearless
 2) He wants to communicate

I do not know what switch flipped in his mind the day he turned 23 months old, but whatever it was, it greatly increased his adventurousness, while his sense of self preservation has seemingly gone into negative integers.
God has gifted me with an innate sense (which I am unsure of what it would be called) that can only be described as the "he's going to try to climb that" sense.

Within the last two months, his vocabulary has increased exponentially, and continues to do so daily.  The "Hi daddy!" that I get when he first sees me nearly makes my head explode every single time.

Some of my favorite Shishers words:
oots = oops
boots = books
ba ba ba ba ba = vacuum (not sure where this came from, or even how I know what it is)
sot set soos = socks and shoes
habit = have it
puga sries sries = burger and french fries
pish po = fishing pole
mameech = sandwich
and my favorite: I yuyoo = I love you

That last one is a game changer.  It can improve the worst day or brighten any mood.

Some days are much harder than others, and when they are, God uses that little guy to remind me of this:
It's worth it.

Ineptitude, the interwebs, and me

I will be as forthcoming as possible; I have no idea what I am doing.  It would seem I have an insatiable desire to add more things at which to be mediocre.  

I do not know what I expect from this, but I hope to entertain, at the least, and possibly use this as a vehicle for embarrassment for my son in the future.

I intend to air almost any fool thought that crosses my mind, and my hope is that this is like a long, fun journey and not like a fiery ball, crashing to the earth in devastating fashion.
Either way, enjoy the train wreck.