And he smells funny, too

And your grammar is bizarre!

Always happy to read the responses from you, the reader.  This batch is concerning my column on enduring when your children call  a relationship  off, posted on KSL on Monday of this week:
http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=1009&sid=24903458

"I hope nobody is paying for this rubbish.  Sarcasm is cheap because the supply grossly exceeds demand.  I'm sure the author finds himself humorous.  At least I'll now know what areas of KSL to just skip next time."

- SuberbumMom deriding me on KSL.com


Here's another one. "I'm glad to see that I'm not the only one alarmed and a little nauseated by this article...."   
                                              - Sv on KSL.com
 
And last... "The writer of this article really needs to eval(uate) his own life..."   - Canan on KSL.com

My eldest daughter and the cookie jar

A girl I know once had trouble with her boyfriend, Dude. (Of course, the girl was not my daughter.  I would never write about my daughter, especially after she made me sign that contract she drew up on the back of a Denney's napkin.)

The problem was solved eventually — though not to my liking. I would have preferred that Dude had packed up his tattoos and moved to Reykjavik. But this isn't about me.

But I love Dude, and my
dad signed a non-disclousure
on the back of a napkin!

Dude patched things up with the "girl I know" and everything was wonderful … for a month. Then, the very same problem happened all over again. Said girl was in tears and kept asking her mother if Uncle Sal back East was still taking requests from "family" — you know, normal teen stuff.
I knew it was time for the cookie jar talk.

As you may know, I love the talks I have with my kids. I practice them in a mirror.

I started talking the talk about morality when they were just babies. I talked to them when I changed their diaper about not doing drugs, and while bathing the little poopers, I lectured them on the pros and cons of gun control.

The cookie jar talk is a favorite of mine. It's shortened version (I have never told a shortened version of anything, so this will be a first,) goes like this:

Prodigal Dad's Parable of the Snazzy Cookies

Once upon a time there was a wonderful dad who made delicious cookies just for the heck of it. Everyone loved the cookies (see included recipe). One day, this marvelous dad needed two dozen cookies for some unspecified thing of consequence — like a PTA meeting or to hoard for fast Sunday.

"No cookies today," he told his children. "Please stay out of the cookie jar because these cookies are earmarked for my triple bypass party, or something equally earth-shattering that is not your snack time. Please leave the cookie jar alone."

Yeah, right. The cookies were gone the moment the kind and knowing father opened his laptop to get some work done.

The next day, the children noticed that the cookie jar had been placed on the top shelf, just out of the reach of anyone who didn't shave.

"If you really forgave us," they said to the father that night, "you would leave the cookie jar out."

The father said, "I did forgive you, and I love you, and the cookie jar stays on the top shelf next to the bullets until you have earned my trust." The End.

Loose interpretation

Now, before I go on, you should know that I would never hoard cookies for fast Sunday. I would do the respectful thing and take only as many as I could fit in my suit-coat pocket.

My daughter didn't understand the point of the talk/parable/story, but that night she settled down, forgave Dude and made him cookies.

Forgiving someone is a value we understand and honor in our family. I have been on the receiving end of that club several times and, try as I might, I may be on that end in the future a few more times than I would wish.

As far as placed confidence goes, there are those who still do not trust me. I have to work for that by consistently showing positive behavior and dedication. I had to earn the title "Prodigal Dad" because I was the one who wasted time and relationships.

I hope my daughter starts to look at her own experience with trust and relates it to what she is experiencing with Dude. I hope she understands that love and trust are two different things. One could love Dude, and not trust him as far as one could throw a cookie jar.

My job, as a good husband and a father, is to fortify my daughter from the inside out. I will teach my entire family appropriate love for others and a healthy respect for themselves. They will learn to live by the heart while using their smarts.

And to bake lots of delicious cookies.

 

Here's how to make White Chocolate Cranberry and Oatmeal Cookies that Prodigal Dad's kids sneak at some risk.

Ingredients
1 cup butter, softened
¾ cup white sugar
¾ cup packed light brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
1¼ cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
¾ teaspoon cinnamon
¾ teaspoon salt
2¾ cups rolled oats
1 cup dried cranberries or Craisins
½ cup white chocolate chips

Directions: Preheat oven to 375, and turn on some Manhattan Transfer. Mix the butter and the white and brown sugar until smooth. Add eggs and vanilla and beat for your life. Then set aside while you combine the flour, baking soda, cinnamon and salt into another bowl. Gradually beat into butter mixture. Stir in oats and cranberries/Craisins and last, the white chocolate chips.

Drop onto an ungreased cookie sheet. Bake 9 to 11 minutes in the preheated oven, or until golden yummy brown. Let them sit for a minute or two, and then move to a wire rack or marble slab. Makes four dozen — if your kids do not pick at the dough.

Oh no, he did not neither!

The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins, or something like that. 

Fortunately for us, time doesn't heal all wounds.

No kitchen fires -- A great Mothers Day Present

Published in the Deseret News -- Are your children planning a surprise breakfast for you on Mother's Day? Of course you would know about it. Mother knows about everything.

If you have determined that your kids are ready to man the kitchen alone, sit back and relax. What could go wrong?

However, if the thought of your children alone in the kitchen plugging things into other things gives you hives, or if your husband passes out at the sight of broken eggs — read on.

(Why is a dad giving this advice? Is it because he is bursting with parental knowledge that he feels obligated to share with womankind? Nope. It’s because he has put out three kitchen fires in the last six months — one of them with his shirt. FYI: You can’t get holes out with Tide.)

Starting with …

Encourage your children to make something they have made before. Don’t expect that they will pick up a recipe book and floor you with their skill.

My own kids aren’t so hot in the kitchen. If I am stuck in the office come dinner time, I usually tell them to make something like meat pie casserole, or chili cheese fries, or egg sandwiches — something we have had good luck with in the past — something they can make on their own without me having to call for a crime-scene investigation.

Save the fancy menu for Father's Day or you may end up with curtains jubilee.

From basic to … a little less basic

So how will they know what to make? Simple. You will have mentioned it several times in passing throughout the week. A mother knows how to control information, so use your superpower for good.

If your children didn‘t pick up on the clue, have them help you with a simple breakfast in the week before the big day and drop a few hints that this could be one of your favorite breakfasts ever! Have supplies for that very breakfast at eye level somewhere, like the pantry or on top of the TV.

A simple do-it-themselves meal is very possible if you like Pop Tarts, toasted bagels, cold cereal or hard boiled eggs and the like. Remember that even heating water can be a job for a child who can man a fire extinguisher.

Slightly more advanced are microwaveable meals, such as family-sized bags of pasta/chicken with mixed vegetables and an Alfredo, garlic or cheddar cheese sauce. Lasagna also comes pre-made and frozen. Grate some mozzarella on it and, voila!

Sandwiches on toasted, buttered bread give a feel of real cooking. Lunch meats, cheese and condiments, with pickles, olives and chips! Yummy.

Even something as simple as frozen rolls make people happy. More advanced would be scones out of the same frozen rolls — just let them rise a bit and warm up the waffle maker. Make sure to coat the iron with a bit of cooking spray.

Home-made

Maybe your children want to cook an old-fashioned, home-made meal instead? Nothing makes a mother itch like the words “from scratch.”

--A great remedy is breakfast for dinner. Eggs, sausage, toast and pancakes or waffles are fairly easy, but may require a dad who is at least paying attention from the table where he may be pretending to read a newspaper.

--Baked potatoes are remarkably easy as long as they understand that the phrase “hot potato” is not just a jump-rope chant. Try a potato bar.

--Pizza is moderately easy to make as long as you stick to store-bought dough. Add tomato sauce, cheese and other toppings that you have conveniently stocked.

--Haystacks start with a base of corn chips. Add (buffet style) cooked seasoned hamburger, re-fried beans, red or yellow onions, grated cheeses, olives, lettuce, sour cream and green onions. No fork is necessary.

 --Quesadillas are much the same and super quick. Just substitute some tortillas, add your meat of choice — chicken, sausage, beef are all great — and buffet it from there. Breakfast burritos are another one of those meals your kids will beg to help you with, which means less work for you — in theory, at least.

--Chili and corn bread are easy. So is quiche, when you use a store-bought pie crust.

--Or have a Roman holiday and feast on breads, cheeses and fruit. They can serve you in togas.

--A scoop of ice cream or sorbet from the freezer tops it all off. Or try root beer floats or a milkshake bar, easiest with vanilla ice cream, several different fruits and syrups and/or malt.

Keep it simple, and your kids will feel empowered to try their hand cooking, and not just for Mother's Day.

On Yoda, Amway, and watching my mouth

Wrong, Yoda was.

Oh, his definitive statement, “Do or do not — there is no try,” offers some good.  It's an effective tool to combat whining.  However, it may also discourage good men from trying something new. Take my attempt at using appropriate language for example.

Some time ago, I promised my wife that I would stop swearing. Good husbands — and good dads for that matter — don’t swear. Nor do they raise their voice unless it's to warn children against shifts in the force or oncoming traffic. (This is according to my church men’s group that I have come to trust about these things. Of course, I only caught bits and pieces of the lesson as I may have been changing a diaper in the back of the room.)

When I was growing up, dads were universally praised from the pulpit. When the wedding toast was made, dear old dad, it was said, had always been strong and silent, and no one would claim to have heard an angry word pass through his manly lips.

If my kids do make such a comment from the pulpit at some future date, they will be talking about the guy who replaced me after I was tried ’n fried by lightning for words I said after I ran over a chicken with a lawn mower.

Yoda's definitive statement, "Do or do not — there is no try," may discourage good men from self-improvement.     

 

Along the same vein, a newsman was recently fired and hired the same day for making a few word choices of his own on live TV. He was rewarded with a job offer on a national morning talk show.

So, am I looking in the mail for my new employee packet from ABC broadcasting? No. I am trying to figure out who these quiet, manly guys are. Certainly not anyone I know.

Admittedly, those in my church group aren’t all that, but they seem less prone to spurts of anger than others I know. They are trying to be better men, which includes watching their language.

 

Yoda had his faults as well. Though his pattern of speaking is somewhat convoluted, at least it can be printed in it’s entirety on ksl.com.

My circling influencing

Some years ago, when my children started repeating my words, my wife thought I would be so mortified to have been such a poor example that I would be shamed into better word selection and more exemplary choices in phrasing.

That didn’t happen. If anything, my kids and I have bonded somewhat over our verbal breakdowns, and we clean it up when mom comes home.

I tell the kids that if they are foolish enough to use my “angry words” with mom around, then they get what they deserve. There will be none of this “but dad said that very same word yesterday to the Amway lady!”

It’s true. Dad did say it yesterday to the Amway lady. If you said it today in front of your mother, then I will wish you a pleasant tomorrow as you sleep on your bedroom floor tonight. Yoda was smart enough to have never used that language in front of his mother no matter how many X-wings he pulled out of the swamp.

OK, I admit that there is not much parental responsibility in that last paragraph. In my defense, up until recently I believed there was no pride in trying, only in doing. This I blame on that lovable bit of latex and rubber on a stick.

Advice for Yoda ... and dads everywhere

The Amway lady deserves better from me.
And I deserve a good scrubbing with LOC 

I have these few words for Yoda: Be listening to you, I will not. I choose to follow Emerson words instead:

 

“That which we persist in doing becomes easier to do, not that the nature of the thing has changed, but that our power to do has increased.”

Maybe Yoda meant to encourage young Luke to accept only success, which, as Ralph Waldo alluded, would come easier with repetition. My point to you, dear reader, is that neither philosopher chewed out the poor Amway lady in front of his kids.

There is always try — and often, there is try again.

To reiterate: My children will not be those praising their dad for never saying a word in anger. But they might say, possibly on the final edition of my nationally syndicated talk show (an offer arriving any day now), “He kept tying to better himself right up to the end."

I hope both Ralph Waldo and the Amway lady will agree.

My dear fatty...

I am not chubby, but some of my best friends are. ... Oh, what am I saying? I’m a big ol’ chunk. In fact, I sometimes have to stop and rest in the middle of bending over.

I would like to be skinnier. Then I could wear some of the nice wools in my closet instead of the stretchy stuff in my drawers. I could swim without wearing my gravity-defying, pectoral muscle-controlling body shirt. I could have a chin again — just one of them.

Most of the women I am related to are a bit chunky as well but are inconvenienced by more than appearances and heavy breathing: sisters, daughters, in-laws, a noisy neighbor we love dearly, my wife.

I get a little defensive when I hear irresponsible jokes — the kind that are meant to belittle. There are people behind the high comedy, people of the punch line that I know and treasure.

 

So, mean people — be nice. Chunky people — get healthy and get on with your life. That’s what I want to say. But my editor tells me to be a little more precise if I want to change the world.

 Last week's Prodigal Dad column was a personal message to my wife. This week, my thinking is a little more universal. As the Prodigal Dad, the guy who is a little late on being a good father and husband, I would like to see a few changes concerning … well, being fat.

1. Many people consider those overweight to be weak-willed, but I know very few of us, the fat, who are weak. I am going to include myself in this category because my doctor told me to lose 20 pounds to live longer. Did I get this way because I am weak? No. I (speaking for myself) got this way because I wasn’t paying attention — that, and because I am no longer taking three dance classes and eating like a bird like I did in college. We have wills. If we want to do something about being overweight, and it is medically possible, we will get a plan and do it.
2. Baby steps are still steps. In fact, baby steps — slow and steady weight loss — seem to be more healthy than sudden drops in weight, which often lead to sudden gains of weight. Being consistent is a terrific baby step: Walk a little, and then walk some more. Don’t fall into the "I have been walking for two weeks and nothing is happening" trap. My guess is that it took you more than two weeks to get where you are.
3. Use labels to your benefit. Fat? Twig? Chunk-a-gram? Don’t put any energy into any label you don’t want energized. Don’t like it? Don’t use it. Ignore it. Find what works for you and let her rip — like my good pants did last Wednesday.
4. Enjoy who you are now. Don’t wait to be happy or to be skinny. Don’t keep buying a smaller size dress to hang in your closet as inspiration. You will only use it as a weapon with which you will beat yourself silly. Buy your size — unless it is cotton, and then buy a size or two up. 
5. Laugh. Smile. Two words: Suzanne Sugarbaker. 
6. Speaking of TV, have a realistic expectation of what it means to be and to look like you. Stop using television as your measure of womanhood. These people are paid to stay thin and pretty. They have cook and craft service and trainers and Spanks — not to mention soft, flattering lighting and wardrobe designers.
7. Find good reasons to do the healthy things you do. Don’t keep talking about a diet or dieting, do things because you are confident that they will help you feel better. Use those words: I’m being healthy. 
8. It’s OK to wear those heels if you want too, or a sparkly accessory. You are not just calling attention to the fat. (That last is directly from my wife). It's OK to wear something pretty. And in case you didn’t hear the first 12 times, you can be large and pretty.
9. Show the young and non-twiggy (a label that works well for me) that there is life during 16, 20 or 24. Don’t hide in a hole and let the youth flounder. Be the positive role model you wish was there for you. 
10. Please do not harm the idiots — the ones that say and do hurtful things to you or to others with weight issues. These people don’t get it, and they may never get it. However, it will be difficult to try to enlighten them if you have already laid them out and are doing time.
11. Keep a mirror around. You can use it to send signals to the neighbor across the street or to blind joggers. Or, and just a thought, you can use it to look in daily and smile to yourself. It won’t crack.

Now that I have explained my thoughts on the issue, I can say it better:
mean people — be nice, and chunky people — get healthy and have a great life.

Earth Day Song by Brian Eugene Stanton Jr.

 

Brian Eugene Stanton Jr. is a friend of mine from
a hideout somewhere in south eastern Idaho. 
He is a friend of mine from the days when I had friends. 
His songs always made me fee a little happier, and I hope this
does the same for you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hwf9SE6NT-E

On women, wives, and weight

Years ago I watched a character on a prime time television sitcom give a speech regarding how she felt about having gained weight:

 

“Drugs, alcohol, cancer, whatever your problems, people are sympathetic — unless you’re fat, and then you’re supposed to be ashamed,” said Suzanne Sugarbaker in a 1989 episode of Designing Women.

 

Ms. Sugarbaker struck a nerve in a good way. The actress was nominated for several awards and won a few of them. It was a landmark episode, a huge success. Later that year she was fired, allegedly for (among other things), being fat. I haven’t heard much about that actress since.

 

Weight, as a social issue, has been characteristically up and down, hard to traverse, usually passed-over for other, more fashionable causes.

 

My wife feels that she has been bombarded since her college days with "thin equals pretty, equals well liked, equals thin" — the other side to the body-issue coin.

 

Regardless, to those thin and not so thin, being overweight is often equated with being slovenly, lazy or, even worse, laughable. These are they who have not mastered their will and are not in control. For my wife, being heavy has always been equal to being ugly. To this day no one can convince her otherwise.

 

Did I mention that she is heavy? Oh, sorry. Let me use the terms we are comfortable with. Chubby. Plump. Hefty. Fluffy (my sons word.) Thick, stout, plus-sized, ample, portly, obese … And then there is the F-word: fat (I can practically hear my editor shuddering).

 

What I find remarkable is that, as a people, we are becoming wider en masse, and yet we have such a hard time saying fat. Americans are, on average, 23 pounds larger than their individual ideal body weight, and 20 percent heavier than they were 20 years ago. Fat, fat, fat.

 

Beauty pageants — the primer of the pretty — award very little prize money to the girl that is “The Spirit of…,” or “Miss Congeniality,“ or to the one in a borrowed, plus-sized dress who has sold the most tickets.

If anything, those size-12-and-overs receive a gift certificate for Surf ’n Turf Wednesday at Buds Big & Bigger Burger to go with a copy of a printout of a letter of appreciation from the Chamber of Commerce — a bit bizarre for a country of people who are of greater stature than any in recorded history.

 

If less is more, then why is our collective waistband expanding exponentially? And if more is more, why aren’t there more plus-sized models with tiaras? If a chub (softens it a bit, huh?) were to win a pageant, it would be for something she has developed within herself that trumped the lovely gift-wrapping.

But, what do I know? I am just a latent dad with husband-ish tendencies resorting to a hole on my belt I thought I would never have to acknowledge, let alone use.

My wife does not fit into the same size swimsuit as her favorite female character on “Bones.” When my wife is at the pool, she is not there to pose on a chase lounge and work on her tan. She is in a lined suit that may be double stitched, and she is busy playing with the kids.

 

She spent her bikini money on Sponge Bob floaters for the kid who can’t swim so well. She spent her workout/aerobic time hot gluing a tee-pee, or on girls camp notebooks for her church calling.

If she had more time to workout or take a spinning class, she would probably skip it to take the kids to the park.

That’s the kind of woman she is. There are different types of women around.  There are those that will be offended, thinking that I am promotion one type over another. All I am saying is that this is the one I married, and my job is to help her with the time she needs to be healthy so she has even more time to be with the people she loves.

 

And the next time she tells me that fat is ugly, I am going to hand her a picture of her happy kids at the pool.

 

If I could say something to my wife, waiting until she was out of range (which would be something because she is quite a pitcher), it would be this:

You are currently overweight, and it‘s OK. Own it, but don’t let being overweight own you. Don’t define yourself by your current weight. If you constantly compare yourself with others, especially those in the media, we all will come up short. If you can love me with my chins, my somewhat saggy intellect and my incredible ego, I can love you and your plus-size, one-piece swimwear.
 

Maybe, after all these years, it was best summed up by Suzanne Sugarbaker’s sister, Julia, when she said:

“… Most everyone is floating along on phony public relations. People who say being beautiful, or rich, or thin, makes them happy. People who are trying to make their marriages and their children seem better than they actually are — and for what? Appearances. Appearances don’t count for diddly! In the end, all that really matters is what was true, and truly said, and how we treated one another.”

I agree. And so do all the kids at the pool.

Open letter to whoever

Dear miscellaneous office manager, bland HR director, or other;
(I can’t really take the time to look up your name)

Thank you so much for the several minutes you gave me recently in a job interview, and for sending me a letter of complete rejection -- for the one half-page response you sent in answer to my six months of time and effort spent to jump through your enrollment hoops.

 

Happy to have supplied practice-shot fodder

I have carefully considered that recent letter, and I regret to inform you that I will be completely unable to accept, from you company, your refusal to offer me employment.

Your rejection letter does not meet my needs at this juncture.

The best of luck to you and yours in dismissing future qualified employment candidates that could have actually make your company viable.


Sincerely,

Davison Cheney
The guy who backed over your "do not park here" sign.

Do you love me?

Published in Happy Living KSL.com — In the musical Fiddler on the Roof, Tevye asks his wife of 25 years if she loves him. After calling him a fool and telling him to go lie down, she quietly admits that, yes she does.

Tevye nods and mutters that he loves her as well. They sigh. After 25 years, an arranged marriage, and many children, they conclude that "It's nice to know."

Women wondering how their spouse feels in their relationship is almost cliche. Just as cliched is the strong, silent — really silent — guy. These stereotypes are based on the perceptions of many. But, because a guy doesn't come right out to tell his wife how he feels is no reason for a woman to remain in the dark.

Your man may not open up with his feelings right away. Often, men learn to keep that side of themselves private until the coast is clear, until it looks like smooth sailing, until it‘s safe to open up.

Guys have codes. Fortunately, these tell-tale clues are not all that difficult to decipher. A clever woman can pick up on signs that will bare his soul faster than poetry or a prescription pain pill.

1 — Have a job that needs doing? He is so on it. Fixing the garage door, or re-balancing the washer so that it stops hitting the wall: the completion of these chores is very likely meant to show you he cares. He has likely tried to notice something that bothers you. Then he fixes it. "See how much I love you? I vacuumed the cat."

2 — He includes you in the same sentence as the rest of his family. He may even do so without asking. You may hear on the phone, “Yeah, we’ll be over later.” He may not come out and say, “I like to be with you” or "I am happier when you are with me.” But grabbing you and throwing you in the van is a hint. "I love my family. You are my family."

 

3 — “Would you help me organize my drawers?” If he asks you this, he may be simply saying that his drawers are a mess. He may also be saying that he trusts your sense of fashion or organization, or that he is willing to let you see him and his imperfections. His asking you to step into his life may be literal. "You make me want to be a better man."

4 — He doesn’t continue to woo you — show off for you — like he did during the courting stage. "How is this a good thing?" you ask. He is assuming that you two have become one, or that he is OK being one with you. It's not just that he considers you "in the bag." He may trust you enough to know that you will look past the thinning hair and the less than bulging arm muscles to put value on more than preening. He considers you a part of his life that is not solely based on being the alpha male. (Though a date night shouldn't be overlooked.) "Would you let my work pants out two inches?"

5 — He butts into your life and stays. "Can I bring lemon bars to your sister's baby shower?"

6 — He may open up to you, but be prepared that it may not look like anything you’ve ever seen. It probably won't be during a quiet moment on the sofa with lights low and glasses full. It may be when doing dishes, or on your way to your mother's house. You may not recognize it until it has sped by you like a bread truck. "That movie was just like what happened to my brother in the war."

7 — He tells you he loves you, and then he shows you. Even though men are as task oriented in this age of the sensitive man as they have ever been, a guy who won’t say "I love you" is less and less the norm. Remember to believe it when he tells you. "I love you, so I will spend the rest of the day adjusting your carburetor."

8 — Compromising is the meat and potatoes of a relationship. He won’t always let you have your own way, and you wouldn’t want him to. Finding the middle ground will be important to make you happy. He loves you, so happiness it his job one. "Even though shark-fest is on, you go ahead and pick the channel, honey."

Don’t count on gauging his love by his gift giving. His great gift ideas may have come from the first page of the giganto mart mailer, or a suggestion that came from Bob at church and not Oprah. He may have taken months to pick out just the right catcher's mitt for you. "And you can put your name right here!"

Allowing yourself to be open to his expressions, however foreign, will encourage him to express more.

And more, in expressions of love, is often better.