The people that know me in my personal life know that I’m one of those artsy types. I like the symphony, art museums, plays, all of that shit. My wife is one of those people that knows this about me. She also knows other little things about me that most others don’t know. For instance, the fact that that I hate being in crowds, or that there are certain definitive pitches of sound that turn me into Mr. Hyde, and cause me to murder people in the streets violently. This morning my two sons, ages 5 and 3 had swimming practice. My daughter, at 13 months doesn’t like to sit still in the observatory, but I can’t put her down because of all of the water on the floor. I volunteered to stay at home with her, so the boys could practice, and my wife could watch them without having to deal with a squirming, fussy baby for two hours. She said that would be fine, but I wouldn’t be able to go with her and the boys after swimming. I asked where, but she refused to tell me. It was to be a surprise.
Two hours of holding a miserable, squirming child later; here I sit. In the middle of a place called Fun Fore All
…with 600 screaming kids running around throwing half a million nerf balls. The crowd, the pitch, and the desire to go absolutely apeshit and murder somebody. Well played, wife. I have a surprise for you next weekend. It’s at a place you love nearly as much as I love this place. It’s called “My parents house”. Your going to love it.