Potentially dangerous liaisons

Wifey:  It's ten o'clock. We need to go to bed. 

Me:  Meh. I don't wanna go to bed yet. 

Wifey:  It won't hurt you to go to bed earlier. 

Me:  What if there was a poisonous snake in our bed, and it planned on leaving at 10:30?  Going to bed earlier would, in fact, hurt me. 

- My logic is flawless.  

For the bearded brethren

I have grown a beard several times in my life, but this time it is different.  There is a scarcely known secret weapon in the art of beard.

Beard Sauce.

It may sound odd, but it is in fact, delightful.  Thanks to this beard oil, my beard is much more kempt, and I smell like a lumberjack uppercutting a grizzly bear.

Aside from the aroma of unbridled manliness, the company itself warrants praise.

I am not one to minimize my faith, as it is the facts behind the faith that are the reason for my existence.  So it should not be surprising that the owners of a company like Beard Sauce that I extol the virtues of, are christians.  Also, 10% of the money that they bring in goes to funding two of their friends who are serving widows and orphans in Kenya. 

Their products are great, the customer service is fantastic, and a portion of the proceeds go to a great cause.  They're even generous enough to send a sample or two if you ask nicely.  Why would you not check them out?  Unless, of course, you are a terrible person and/or do not enjoy awesomeness. 

But seriously, check them out. 

Gear picks from a noob

As I am a beginner to the world of tent camping and/or backpacking, I would like to share my limited knowledge on gear and brands that I find to be of superb quality. (from what I can tell, anyway.  But what do I know?)

This is the backpack o' backpacks:

Kelty Red Cloud 6650

There is nothing short of a large bundle of firewood that this pack will not carry, and I even question that statement. There are so many pockets and compartments that one could probably carry an entire family's gear. 

Some of the more nifty features include a sleeping back compartment on the bottom, daisy chain, removable day pack on top, and it is ready for a hydration bladder such as a Camelbak. 

In summary, the Red Cloud 6650 may not exactly be suited for short day hikes, but should the need arise for something with a capacity just shy of an RV, this one has your name all over it.

www.kelty.com

Watching words

I've heard it since day one.

"They repeat everything you say."

As of late, I find this to ring true more and more each day.  Nothing bad has come of it yet, but the need to filter myself has become much more evident.

Fisher says things to us that I know he is just repeating from us.  Often times he will say to me "careful..." or "easy... easy...".  

I question whether or not he is really looking out for my best interest, but it is funny nonetheless. 

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.