Random statements I’ve heard from my boys recently:

Calfgrit8 to Calfgrit11: “I don’t want to tell you what me and Daddy did while you were gone because it would make you jealous, but it was awesome! We had so much fun!

Calfgrit11 to Calfgrit8: “CG8! Dad just turned on the TV!”

Calfgrit8 to Calfgrit11: “I’m not supposed to tell you what I got you for Christmas, but it’s what you told me you wanted the other day when we were in Target.”

Calfgrit11 to Calfgrit8: “No, I wouldn’t want you to starve to death, even though you’re sometimes very annoying.”

Bullgrit

Calfgrit8’s indoor soccer team has had some pretty interesting situations with their opponents. I’ve mentioned the first couple of games in a previous post. The team of 8 year olds were put in the 10 year old bracket, were beaten pretty hard a couple of times by larger kids, and then put in the 8 year old bracket and immediately won big against kids their own age and size.

Well, to add strangeness to the situation, the last few games in the 8 year old bracket have been against teams whose players weren’t all showing up. Our team has 10 players, (6 on the field at a time), and they’ve never had more than a couple at a time miss a game. But the last three games they’ve played, the other team couldn’t field more than 4 or 5. So our coaches loaned them some of our players to help out. Sadly, not only is almost half the opposing team on the field, our own players, but it’s really only our own players who actually play hard.

Our team has won every game by a very wide margin, (like 12-2), or with a complete shutout, (like 10-0). When the other team manages to get the ball going towards our goal, (going on the offensive), it’s always our own players doing the drive. The other team players rarely cross the half-field line. What the hell? I’m not talking about this is just one team, but every team our kids play is like this. It looks like our team is the only one who gets coached, practices, or even seems care about playing. Yes, the other kids do play and get into the game, but they aren’t aggressive. They almost always hang back in defense, just trying to kick the ball away more than trying to drive the ball offensively.

We parents in the bleachers watching the game end up cheering and rooting as much for the other team as we do our own. We shout encouragement when the other team goal keeper stops a shot. We congratulate the other team when they drive the ball down field toward our goal. (Granted, the ones driving are usually our own kids.) I’ve watched the other teams’ parents several times, and none of them seem to get excited about the game. That’s pathetic and sad. I really don’t know even what to think about this.

Bullgrit

I needed some new underwear, so I went to Target Friday during lunch. (I would say I was shopping for something less intimate, but the actual product figures into this tale. Sorry if you’re now thinking of me in my underwear. Pervert!)

I went back to the men’s department and found what I wanted. But there was only one pack, and I needed two. Oh well, I took what they had. I didn’t want to go stand in line and buy just a pack of underwear, because buying just that brings attention to the fact that underwear is what I’ve got in my hand. I don’t know why, but I’m not completely comfortable standing in line with a bunch of strangers, holding my underwear, and only that, in my hand. And then having the clerk ring it up.

So I looked around for something else to buy. I found some shirts I liked, but dammit, no medium size. I thought America was all overweight. Why is it always the size medium stuff that gets sold out? I looked around some more, but couldn’t find anything. So I sucked up my prudishness and walked up to the checkout lanes.

I stood in line behind a woman buying out the entire store stock of wrapping paper. After a minute, a Target employee came up to me and said, “You can go up to the popcorn register, and check out up there without waiting.” I’ve been given this direction before at Target, so I didn’t think about it and just left the line and went toward the popcorn register. Halfway there I remembered what I was going to purchase: my underwear. I’d be even more uncomfortable handing these to the popcorn clerk. Fortunately, or unfortunately, there was no one at the popcorn counter. So I quickly walked back to the line I had just left.

No new customer had gotten in that line, so I got my place right back, and the clerk was halfway through completion of checking out the woman ahead of me. Then another Target employee suggested I go to another check out lane for faster service. I looked over, saw one woman with no cart, and followed the suggestion. But when I stepped up to the lane I saw that the woman there had about two dozen very small items on the counter, and the clerk was scanning each one and putting them in a bag. I looked back to my former line. Two more customers had joined that line and moved up to take the space I had vacated.

As I stood in this new line waiting for the clerk to get through all the woman’s stack of stuff, the woman that was ahead of me in the previous line finished and walked away. The new customer that had taken my slot in the line checked out and finished about the time I finally stepped up to be checked out in my new line. So I would have been better off just staying where I had been. Sigh.

Anyway, I bought my pack of underwear and left the store.

On my way home from work that evening, I stopped by another Target to buy the second pack of underwear I needed. I went through the same process as before, including looking for something else to buy with my one pack, but again I couldn’t find anything I wanted in my size. I went and picked a line to stand in, and while waiting, I texted Wifegrit to ask if there was anything she needed from Target. While waiting for her reply, a Target employee suggested I switch to another lane for faster check out. Since I was waiting for a text reply, I didn’t want to check out yet until I knew I was done shopping. So after several seconds of me not moving from my spot at the end of the line, the employee said, “Or you don’t have to switch.”

I got a text requesting one more item, so I left the line to get it. I came back, checked out, and went on home.

Did you read all of this? Did I make buying a pack of underwear an interesting story, or are you just that terribly bored? Are you now, or still, picturing me in my underwear? Sorry. (Pervert!)

Bullgrit

Yeah, it’s been three weeks since I last wrote a post here. Several weeks ago I began thinking I needed to hop off the Web site ride and spend some more time with the family. I had been coming home from work, eating dinner with the family, and then going right up to my home office and working on blog posts or t-shirts or marketing or any of a hundred other things that need to be done to work this web business. I had been letting home and family kind of go unattended for a long time. It was for a good reason: to get this “second job” to a point where it could be my one and main job, a stay at home job. But I was missing out at home, and home was missing out on me.

I started slacking of the web site work. And then a few weeks ago I just kind of let it go completely for a while. By letting this web part of my life go slack, I was able to come home from work, eat dinner with the family, help with homework, help with house chores, spend more time with Wifegrit, Calfgrit11, and Calfgrit8 as a family or individually. I really like this way better. It means the web site gets updated less, and new t-shirt designs come less frequent, and marketing falls weak, but I’m really enjoying this more time with my family. I need it, and they need me.

So, for the foreseeable future, my posting and new t-shirts will be on the back burner, to get done when I have the free time. Maybe I’ll post once or twice a week. Maybe I’ll get a new t-shirt out once a month. I’m okay with this. I hope you will be too.

Bullgrit