Cruisin' Broadway, indeed
Last night the boys and I headed downtown for Fargo's monthly Crusin' Broadway event. Each month during the summer, they close off portions of Broadway to allow car collectors to bring their beauties downtown and park them alongside the city's main downtown street. And then tons of people turn out to gawk at them. There were some beautiful cars downtown and my little motorhead Garrett was in heaven.
However, it took something far more exciting to interest the Bug. Admittedly, I can't imagine that when I was 5 1/2 I would have had all that much fun walking up and down the streets looking at collector car after collector car. And the Bug made no bones about it - he wasn't having any fun. Until ...
About 45 minutes into our stroll around the downtown, we ran into two of Fargo's men in blue who had a man, who must have been transient by the looks of his overstuffed backpack next to him, handcuffed and seated on a downtown bench. By the time we came within five feet of him, the Bug alertly noticed the cops giving him a Breathalyzer and suddenly our little excursion became the most interesting thing he could be doing at that time. I really hadn't comprehended what we walked up on until it was too late. I mean we were within just a couple of feet when I noticed what was going on, far later than the Bug had noticed.
And as kids will do, the Bug blurted out, "Dad, they arrested that guy!"
He was transfixed and he wasn't movin' anywhere, collector cars be damned.
As cute as it was, it was mildly uncomfortable for all of us adults involved. The cops tried to avoid eye contact as they kept trying to do their job as efficiently as possible and I looked for anything else possible for to cast my gaze upon. The other adults around me, trying to stifle their snickers, did the same.
But the Bug was undaunted. Man, he wanted to know why the cops were "busting" the guy and what the Breathalyzer was and why he was handcuffed and on and on. You would have thought I had brought him to the greatest show on earth. After a couple of more awkward minutes, Garrett and I finally convinced the Bug we needed to move on. I'm sure we'll all remember the evening for a while.
It's funny: Judging by his look and actions, one minute you would have thought I was torturing the Bug by bringing him to the car show. And the next minute ... well, let's just say that he would have paid admission to see that show.
Posted by: Devlyn Brooks on 9/05/2008 at 4:18 PM | Comments (2) | Permalink
Happy anniversary to ... us!
Hey, thanks for coming. We're all really glad you dropped in today. What? What are we celebrating? Didn't you get the invite? Crap ... you know, you can't count on interns anymore, can you.
Well, welcome to our 100th episode anniversary open house. Yeah, no kidding. Back a while ago when we realized we were coming up on this momentous milestone we hit up management for a few bucks to throw a party to honor you. Seriously, all the big TV shows do it ... you know, they do the weeks-long promotions about their 100th episodes, so we around the blog here thought you deserved a party ... without you coming back for more, we wouldn't be here. OK, that's a lie, we'd still be here rambling just to appease ourselves, but it'd be to nobody ... and, well, we really look for any excuse to throw a party. So, anyway ... welcome to our ... er, your party. This is all about you, the readers of "Stop Looking at Your Brother."
Obviously, being as we are really small potatos and aren't quite top-rated yet, management wasn't going to throw a lot of money at this shindig ... but still, please stick around, grab some cake and punch over there and mingle. Also please let us know what you think about blog. You see, we need your feedback to cater to your liking so that we can skew our readership numbers and thus become stinkin', filthy rich. ... Well, OK, that's a lie too. The talent here doesn't really care what management thinks and we're going to continue to write about what we want. But, still, we like to give you the feeling that we're democratic around here and so we'll politely listen to your thoughts and then quietly disregard them.
Anyway, please look around ... our space here at the blog headquarters is tight but please consider yourself at home. Mi casa es su casa, as they say. And take the time to visit with the stars ... we're all here. Garrett and Carter are over there in the corner fighting and over there there's some of the other characters you've seen throughout the various postings. And of course standing watch over the food is Crazy Grandma. We couldn't throw a party without her. We'd introduce you to the technical staff, but, honestly, we try to hide those guys. They're just as content in the operations room with their Doritos and Mountain Dew and keyboards. They're kinda buzz-killers anyway.
Don't forget to grab one of those brochures over there. The marketing staff was kind enough to put together a presentation about our readership for management. Shhh! Seriously, don't tell anyone ... management wouldn't want us sharing this info with you, but we like to break the rules.
Notice that we've determined that our growing audience (yeah, seriously, it's growing ... stumps me too) falls into one of four categories. This was a scientific research survey (not really) methodically conducted during the first week in August (also not true). Take it for what it's worth.
- Survey says ... 43 percent of you are friends or family members or others who for some reason feel obligated to read the blog in the event that I ask you about it.
- Survey says ... another 17 percent of you read the blog during work to kill two more minutes in your miserable cubicle.
- Survey says ... another 23 percent of you read the blog for comfort ... it reminds you that there is at least one whack job out there crazier than you and thus you can feel better about yourself.
- Survey says ... the remaing 17 percent of you are just realizing that you have spent one-third of the past year reading this blog nearly every day and now regret it. Sorry if we snookered ya ... we're malicious that way.
So what about the future you ask? Well, we're pumped to be honest. Thanks to the turnout of all you dozens here at the open house, we're motivated to continue to bring you the best whimsical stories about the Bug and Garrett, the best in searing, self-deprecating humor about Single Dad, and occassional poignant insights about being a confused, single dad trying to make his way through this crazy world.
We'll press on with new episodes about the Bug entering kindergarten and Garrett getting to the top of the elementary heap and dad just trying to muddle through the best he can. We hope to introduce you to some new characters ... you know ... flesh out a few more plot lines. We might even get a little edgier to capture that lucrative 18-to-34-year-old male demographic ... you know advertisers really covet them. But I promise you, we'll remain family friendly here at the "Stop Looking at Your Brother" blog because we have values. No lude or suggestive advertising here ... no sir. Well, OK, we lied again. We'll take money from anyone as long as its cash and comes in bills of no larger than $20. We figure it's management's problem to explain to the feds where the money's coming from. We're just talent down here.
But seriously, we do hope you stick around for the next 100 episodes. We're excited to have you as a reader and we're sincerely flattered that you'd spend some of your valuable time each day checking in on the goingson in the Brooks household. The blog's growing now and with your word-of-mouth advertising we'll continue to grow. So lift a glass a punch ... the Bug, Garrett and I toast you! Here's to the next 100 episodes ...
Posted by: Devlyn Brooks on 9/04/2008 at 11:46 AM | Comments (3) | Permalink
Not what the Bug expected ...
Unfortunately, what should have been an exciting time for the kids - the annual first day back to school - was a bust in the Brooks household: Not only was Garrett sick and not able to attend his first day of fifth grade, what was supposed to be the Bug's first day of kindergarten turned out to be only an 75-minute orientation session for parents and kids. Talk about a lot building up for nothing ...
I don't know exactly what was ailing Garret, but he was up the night before throwing up and was too exhausted to go to school. I'm hoping that it was something bad he ate and not the recent changes in his mother's house, but he it a tight-lipped kid so I'll likely never know the truth. Thankfully, he was more like himself today when I dropped him off. And I know once he gets around some familiar faces from last year, he'll do OK. But it's disappointing he missed his first day.
The Bug, on the other hand, was none too impressed with his first day and thought that if that was what school was all about, he didn't want anything to do with it. He'd just as rather go back to Youth Commission, the program he was in this summer, thank you very much.
I can't really blame the kid. I don't think the school district made it very clear that his first day was only going to be a meet-the-teacher-and-fill-out-paperwork session during which the kids were tortured by having to sit still at tables and listen to adults talk. We all had thought that was what the back-to-school night we attended the week before was all about.
Regardless, after we were finished and were walking out, the Bug looked at me and said, "If that's kindergarten, I want to go back to Youth Commission."
After stifling a laugh, I assured him that today would be better, that he would actually get to go to school and do school-type things today.
I hope for the teacher's sake, they do ...
Posted by: Devlyn Brooks on 9/03/2008 at 10:01 AM | Comments (0) | Permalink
I hope what's on the other side is worth it
Thanks to a "mystery" virus that has taken up permanent residence in the right side of my head, the general insanity that is my ex-wife's life, a long holiday weekend and a crush at work, the last two weeks have been ... well, let's say a challenge.
Trying to balance the demands of maintaining your own mental health, while being sick for two weeks and trying to be an anchor for your kids during a tough time emotional time has drained me. And it hasn't been pretty. There have been some pretty dark nights as of late, but I've resorted to a technique that got me through some of the darkest times three years ago: focusing on the day ahead.
One thing I've learned through the ordeals of the past three years is that if you focus on the future when the present is uncertain, it can be overwhelming. I know that a major factor in my struggles this summer was that it's hard to feel good about one and two years ... hell, even six months ... down the road, when you don't know what surprises tomorrow is going to throw at you. And because I am one that likes some certainties in his life, not knowing the future can be daunting. And this summer, I thought things were good enough in the boys' life and in mine to start thinking about the future again, but they weren't. I had gotten ahead of myself when I started thinking about the future again. And so for now, I am again concentrating on each day, getting up and making sure the kids are ready for school, making sure that I'm keeping up at work and trying to do one thing just for myself at night before bed.
For now, that has to be enough, because thinking about the long-term well-being of the kids and myself is a scary thought. I don't know how we'll get across the choppy waters and in what shape we'll be in when we get there. So I am again focusing on getting through the day and having a good night with the boys, and then saying a prayer at night that the big guy is watching over us and taking us down a safe path. At times like this, I've found that faith is the most powerful tool I have and I will use it to protect both the boys and I.
After a rough summer, I had hoped for so much more for the boys and I at this point, but they are healthy and I am healthy (well, except for the mystery virus) and for now those are the positives I will focus on. Friends have told me that I am being tested and that I eventually will come through these dark days. I hope they are right and that what's on the other end is worth it.
Posted by: Devlyn Brooks on 9/03/2008 at 9:33 AM | Comments (2) | Permalink
So this is Carter?
"So this is Carter?" his new kindergarten teacher said enthusiastically at last night's "Back-to-School" event, but I couldn't help but notice she said it with this ring of familiarity to the name. If you read my previous blog about my experience dropping off Carter's paperwork at the school, you'll understand my concern. You get a little nervous when you think the school staff has "heard" about your son.
But this time it seems Dad was the culprit and is responsible for his new teacher's early warning. Earlier this week, I wrote a column for The Forum about Carter going to kindergarten. The headline caught his teacher's eye because she is a first-time kindergarten teacher and so she read on. Early into the column she realized that Carter was the Carter Brooks on her class list and so the column became even more interesting to her. And upon finishing it, she couldn't wait to meet him and last night was the first opportunity.
While his teacher explained all of this to us last night, I couldn't tell if the Bug actually got it. He's never been as aware of my job as his older brother has been. And so the fact that his teacher already knew about him before he even entered the classroom seemed lost on Carter. However, I couldn't help but notice that my older son, Garrett, just rolled his eyes when he heard this story. He gave me a look that said, "I know all too much about this experience ... Carter get used to it."
And truth be told Garrett is used to finding himself mentioned in Dad's newspaper columns. He basically grew up with the experience. As an editor at several smaller newspapers over the years, one of the obligatory responsibilities I had was a fairly regular column. When you take the job, you know it comes with the territory. But writing a coherent and somewhat interesting newspaper column once per week is a difficult grind. ... Seriously, it is. So one piece of advice I received early on was "write what you know" ... meaning column writing becomes easier when you draw upon the things closest to you. So I began writing openly and honestly and often about my family, more specifically my kids. Raising children is a fairly universal topic and when you write openly about it, a lot of people appreciate it. So anyway, Garrett got used to stories about him appearing in the local newspaper fairly regularly. There certainly were stories about Carter after he came along as well, but he was to young to recognize it. And then we moved to Moorhead 15 months ago and Dad started working for a larger newspaper and stopped writing as many columns. So Carter never had the chance to become accustomed to being column fodder for his exploitive father. Until last night ... But by the sounds of it, his teacher appreciated the column and the extra insight into the Bug. And by the looks of it, Carter was unfazed by the thought that his teacher had garnered some recon on one of her new students.
Bug, your brother probably hasn't had a chance to pass on this brotherly insight yet, but welcome to being the son of a newspaper columnist. Some kids hit the big time and are born into rich families ... and then others are born to newspaper columnists. Sorry, dude, you lost the dice roll there.
Posted by: Devlyn Brooks on 8/29/2008 at 11:42 AM | Comments (2) | Permalink
My latest 'Parenting Perspective' column in The Forum
HEADLINE: Son's first day of school more emotional for dad
DEVLYN BROOKS
Parenting Perspectives
Dear Carter,
One week from today, you'll head off to your first day of kindergarten.
I'm a little stunned; I can't believe that day already is here. I remember vividly the night almost six years ago when you made your scary entrance into this world. Oh, how you frightened your mother and me when you were born not breathing. The terror I felt that night is still palpable.
But obviously you rebounded and have grown into a healthy young boy. And now Dad has to give up the reins a bit to allow you some freedom to grow and to learn and to become your own person. Despite preparing for this for several months now, I don't know if I'm ready.
Oh, I know you are. I can see your excitement growing with each day. And so, it's time for me to let go.
You've been my little buddy for more than five years, and except for Dad's work getting in the way, we've been inseparable. I know that won't change overnight, but I also know that you're going to start developing friendships and interests of your own. And slowly those other aspects of your life will begin to steal time away from us.
I certainly don't begrudge you that - you deserve a full and rich life. I'm just sad to see this time come. That's the funny thing about being a parent: You wish the best for your kids and are willing to make large sacrifices for them, but you still retain a little bit of selfishness. It's the way we adults are; don't try to figure us out.
It seems a little foolish to try to pass on any advice to you at this age.
But I do secretly hope that you don't let school change you. I've grown to love your independent streak, your cleverness, your inner strength and your little motor that runs at full tilt all day.
People who meet you and your brother marvel at the differences in your personalities. And when they say so, I just nod and smile and tell them I couldn't be happier. I love you for who you are, and I love your brother for who he is. I sincerely hope that you learn to balance your desire to question authority with a healthy respect for those important adults in your life. I guess we'll see soon enough. In five years, Garrett's never been seriously disciplined at school. How long is it going to take you, I wonder?
Next Tuesday, a whole new world of opportunities awaits you. I know that you can't comprehend it right now, but your little world's going to change in ways you can't imagine. I'm eager to see what you excel in and what scholastic interests will grab your imagination. Sure, it may take some time - heck, your brother's entering fifth grade and I'm not sure what most interests him - but I know it will come. And I promise to be just as excited when the time does come.
So, I guess that's it, little buddy: One week from today, you won't be my little Bug anymore. You'll be my big kindergartner and one step closer to being a young man who needs his dad less and less.
But I've been at this parenting thing a while now, and I accept that the tradeoff for seeing what a wonderful young man you will become is knowing that there will be more influences in your life. I know you're ready to face those challenges, even though I don't want to let go.
So, come next Tuesday, just remember that dad's love is unconditional and that no matter what twists and turns we take on this path, I will always be your biggest cheerleader. Bug, enjoy your first day of school. I love you.
Devlyn Brooks is the North Dakota editor of The Forum. He lives in Moorhead with his two sons. Check out his parenting blog at www.areavoices.com/singledad.
Posted by: Devlyn Brooks on 8/28/2008 at 2:30 PM | Comments (1) | Permalink
Alive ... I think
Yes, I'm back and I am alive ... I think.
At least I'm here in a physical form, albeit 20 pounds lighter and with a tendency to sweat profusely ... but no worries, the doctor tells me that eventually will go away. YEAH!
But really, no thanks to the wonders of modern medicine, I am finally back at work and contributing to a productive society. ... Well, maybe not considering what some think of the media ... but regardless, I'm back staring at a monitor and pretending to play a part in producing tomorrow's newspaper.
Few probably missed my talents of being able to detect a misplaced pronoun or an improperly used subjunctive mood, but I gotta tell you, being back in the saddle is far better than being a couch jockey. As much I have drempt about laying around home for a living, the first day of weekday daytime television this week cured me of that dream pretty quickly.
And while I'm happy, very happy actually, to be upright and walking again, we don't know exactly what it was that sidelined me. And when I say "we" I'm talking about my crack doctor that I visited on Monday. "We" - and this time I'm not including myself - diagnosed me with a mystery virus. That's right ... a mystery virus. After asking me whether I'd recently travelled to any exotic locations or if I'd taken a cruise, the doc said he thought I had a mystery virus ... or certainly "we" could be wrong and I may have been suffering from just a very severe head cold. So in one fell swoop the doc managed to hit upon two of my greatest pet peeves: The fact that he referred to himself as "we" when obviously it was his "un"-diagnosis and his alone and the fact that I paid so much to get an answer I was fairly certain of already. Seriously, after weather forecasters, I don't know of any other professionals that gets paid as much to be right only part of the time.
But I digress ...
I have been told that I am not contagious and so any of you who may have recently come in contact with me shouldn't worry about the mystery virus ... or my severe head cold. You seem to be safe. After coming in contact with me in the last seven days, neither of my children, nor my mother came down with it. So I think it's safe for you as well. No need for quarantines, yet.
On the bright side, however, being held prisoner in your own house - in your own bed to be exact - for a week, surrounded by your two children and your mother and pets leads to fertile blog fodder and so you, dear readers, are the ones who will benefit. It may take a few days to run out all of the stories, but oh I promise you're in for a fun ride on the Brooks de Merry-Go-Round.
Hmmm, maybe I need to get sick more often ....
Posted by: Devlyn Brooks on 8/28/2008 at 1:39 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
You weren't my dad ...
"So did you have a good day at work today, dad?" Garrett asked me at the ball game Thursday night.
It was between innings and we were watching some kind of fan contest take place along the first base line. We were munching on popcorn, waiting for the game to resume.
"Nothing special, but it wasn't a bad day," I said. "Why?"
"Well, you're so-o-o-o happy tonight," he said.
"What do you mean, kiddo?" I said.
"You're just happy. You're smiling and joking and you're in a good mood," he said. "You haven't been like this in a long time."
Yikes, I thought to myself. I know it'd been a rough summer and I had been working through a lot of personal issues, but all along I thought I'd done a fairly decent job of shielding the kids from it. However, I just should have known that Garrett knew.
"Yeah, it was a pretty rough summer, wasn't it?" I said. "Well, honestly, bud, dad had some things to think through this summer and I'm sorry if that made things tough on you."
"No, you haven't been a bad dad," he said. "You just weren't my dad."
Ouch, I thought, no one likes to hear that.
"Sorry about that. I should have talked to you sooner, but dad has been a little down this summer," I said.
"Is everything OK?" Garrett asked.
"Yeah, everything is OK. I don't know even what made me sad this summer ... probably a lot of things," I said. "It's hard to explain, kiddo. But it's getting better. I feel like I've worked through some things and other things have changed for the better. So, yeah, I guess you're right, I am happy tonight. That's a good thing, right?"
"Yeah, that's a good thing," he said, pausing. "But dad, will you get sad again?"
"I don't know, bud," I said. "I'm sure there are going to be more things that make me sad, but I hope they won't make me depressed, like this summer. I hope I've worked past that, but we'll just take it one day at a time, OK?"
"OK, dad," he said. "But I like it better now that you're happy."
So do I, kiddo. So do I.
Posted by: Devlyn Brooks on 8/23/2008 at 1:24 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
An end-of-summer tradition
The boys and I headed to a local minor league baseball game last night, something that's become an annual end-of-summer ritual. A few years back, I started taking the boys to a game near the end of the summer as kind of a treat before Garrett went back to school. Being we lived in the Cities, of course, we went to a late-summer Twins game. The last two years, however, we've attended a Redhawks game here in Fargo to continue our tradition.
For those of you who never leave the confines of the interstate loop around the Twin Cities, the Redhawks are Fargo's equivalent of the St. Paul Saints. In fact, up until a few years ago, the Redhawks and the Saints played in the same league. If you've been to a Saints game, you're already familiar with the atmosphere of a Redhawks game.There's cheesy fan contests between innings, and goofy mascots and some acceptable baseball. The scene is straight out of the movie "Bull Durham".
I've always loved my trips to watch the Twins play, but I gotta tell you I'm falling in love with the Redhawks games. The stadium is small and intimate, yet offers a 400-plus-foot distance to centerfield so each game isn't just a homerun derby. Plus, there's something for everyone. Almost like clockwork when we get to the stadium, Carter heads off under the first baseline general admission grandstand where there is a large sand box for kids. Just next door is a deluxe jungle gym set, complete with slides and climbing apparatuses. Except for a few brief breaks to visit dad in the stands for some pop or popcorn or a hot dog, the Bug is content to spend three hours covorting in the sand box and jungle gym with two dozen other youngsters he doesn't know. Garrett, on the other hand, heads off for the first baseline foul territory. There, he and about two dozen other tweeners will hang out for hours for the opportunity to chase down a foul ball or get one flipped to them by a passing player or ump. The older kids down there dance to the music between innings and generally just enjoy the perceived freedom of having no parents peering over their shoulders.
And dad gets to hang out in the bleachers, with a view of the game and both boys from where I sit. I tell you it's far less stressful than the Twins games where the boys used to be held captive in their uncomfortable plastic seats. At the Dome, by the third inning, both boys needed to get up and move and thus none of us completely enjoyed the game. But at the Redhawks game, none of that is an issue. It's a perfect venue.
At one point last night, as the game waned into extra innings and the stadium lights came on, I looked down to see Garrett rockin' out with his newfound buddies along the fouline and looked behind me to see Carter's newfound friends burying him in the sandbox. There was a slight, cool wind blowing in from the east, reminding us that fall is coming, and there was that buzz you hear from a large crowd floating through the air, mingling with the scents from the fried food and the beer offered at the concession stands. All of it combined to give me an electric feeling, one those moments you couldn't purposely re-create. Knowing how up-and-down our summer has been, last night was a welcome escape for all of us. I hope to keep that memory alive for a long while and the boys ... well, they already are looking forward to next year's end-of-the-summer baseball game.
Posted by: Devlyn Brooks on 8/22/2008 at 9:47 AM | Comments (0) | Permalink
So I have a new cell phone ...
So I do have a new cell phone, or what you might aptly call a miniature friekin' computer small enough to fit in my pocket.
Now it's no secret that I'm not a huge fan of technology. Although I am proficent on the web and do some blogging, I'm not sold that all the intrusive technology that we've allowed into our lives is a good thing. And so it should come as no surprise to a lot of people that this new phone has befuddled me. In the first three days, I have found that it's most useful as an alarm clock and for receiving pornographic videos and photos from friends. Whew, I'm glad I spent the money I did.
I should back up a bit, though. I never started out to buy a new phone that could double as a remote control for the space shuttle. Rather, I set out to purchase a simple phone for my oldest son to connect with his mother and I. The plan was that dad would upgrade to a new phone and Garrett would inherit dad's old phone. Fine and good, right?
But, ahh, things are never that easy with cell phones, are they? After waiting for an hour in the store (no kidding) to talk with a representative, a chirpy young man - whom we'll call Mr. Chirpy - with a spiked hairdo and a large ring in his ear asked what we wanted. I explained simply that I needed to add a line to my plan, buy a new phone for me and prepare my old phone for my son. "Yep, we can do that," Mr. Chirpy explained excitedly. "But what kind of phone do you want?" And, honestly, from that moment on, things are kind of a blur. Mr. Chirpy went into sales mode and threw a long enough pitch at me that I could feel myself growing older. There were these phones and those phones and these plans and those plans and these rebates and those rebates and these options and those options ... and then he abruptly stopped, smiled and stared at me, waiting for an answer.
"Look," I said, "what's it going to cost me to get a new phone and a new line and get outta here?"
Mr. Chirpy excitedly started in again, droning on about upgrades and contracts and activation fees and v-casts and downloadable music and blah, blah, blah ... After waiting for an hour just to talk to him and spending another 20 minutes getting no where, I saw a promotional sign on the counter for Verizon's newest phone, the Envue. The promotion included a sales price and a rebate and it all seemd pretty reasonable considering the phone you were getting. I looked at Mr. Chirpy and told him I wanted that phone and a plan that would accomodate my phone, its new features and a line for my son ... and please no gift wrapping necessary. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that we were close to wrapping this deal up. How naive of me.
Once Mr. Chirpy found the phone in the back room, he started in on the accessories available and the computer work necessary to activate the phone and change my current number to the new phone, transfer over all of the data from my old phone to my new phone and assign a new number to Garrett's phone. All told, we'd been in the store for 1 hour and 40 minutes, but eventually, both Garrett and I were clutching our new phones. I was thinking we had to be close to be done, right?
Once again reality is like a slap to the face some times. Just then Mr. Chirpy slammed down about a pound of paperwork on the counter and commenced to highlighting the gazillion places I needed to initial and to sign. I'm not kidding; I walked out of there with a stack of paperwork 15 pages thick ... for two friekin' phones. By the end, I wanted out of there so badly, I'm not sure what I signed. I may have inadvertently given one of my sons away or promised their souls to Verizon ... I'm not sure. But I needed to get outta there and we did - 1 hour and 58 minutes after we entered.
So, anyway, I do have a snazzy new phone and I'm sure that everytime I push a button accidently there are some nervous people in bunkers around Moscow wondering who has control of their missles.
Posted by: Devlyn Brooks on 8/21/2008 at 12:34 PM | Comments (3) | Permalink
