I consolidated the stories about Fred.


...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. flipaul@yahoo.com

Sunday, May 1, 2011

When Is A Party Not A Party?

Yesterday morning my wife told me we had "Spring Fest" that night. Woohoo! Party! It's been years since we went to an honest to goodness hootenanny, a good old fashioned pub crawl. I tried to remember when the last time I saw my beer helmet or my toga. The kids had used the beer helmet to catch and store tadpoles, and I'm sure my toga just cleaned the toilet last week. It's time to innovate. I will use duct tape and attach a couple of beers to my hard hat and press the kids unused Spongebob sheets into service as my new party toga.
   I show up at "Spring Fest" at the appointed time and it appears that I am the only one drinking so far. That's not unusual, I often start drinking before any one else; what is unusual, is the number of children present. It's really tacky to allow children to an event where people are partying. I say as much to a severe looking woman standing next to me, as I hand her a beer.
   She tells me, "This isn't a pubcrawl. This is the school fundraiser. YOU are the only one drinking. And I suppose this explains a thing or two. I am your oldest child's teacher, Mrs. Lyodda"
   "Hmmh. My bad. And just because I made a mistake and showed up to a school event in a toga, you can't make a snap judgement about what kind of father I am."
   "It's true, every one makes mistakes. But, this is the third year in a row."
   "So does that mean you aren't going to have that beer with me, 'cause I want it back if you don't want it."
   "I'm going to call the cops."
   "Don't do that. I'm sure they have more important things to do than to drink with me."
   "Tell you what, get rid of the beers and the toga, and we won't have to kick you out."
   So, I got rid of my beers and my toga, just like she asked. And was she happy?! No. She started screaming about how I couldn't walk around drunk in my underwear. Man you just can't please some people.