Bouncy Castles, Firetrucks, and Dogs
Today will only get better, assuming that I get ice cream after dinner. But, let me start at the beginning. I slept in until 10:00 am, woke up to a pancake drenched in syrup. I polished that bad boy off, downed some milk, all while catching up with my g-parents on Skype. I thought to myself, "I have a distinct feeling that today is going to be my kind of day." It's Saturday; Dad's home. As if things couldn't get better.... Mom pulled out my bulldog shirt. That's one of my faves. Since I can't have a real bulldog, this is the next best thing. I get to wear one on my shirt. He, "Enforcer," keeps the jerk two year olds away, the ones who always seem to think that my Hot Wheels belong to them. I know, I know....I will eventually be one of those. Then, my bulldog will assume a different role but still be "Enforcer."
I got my bulldog shirt on, and I knew we were headed for fun when Dad put my shoes on. I get kind of excited about shoes.
It was beautiful outside -- warm, not too humid, blue skies. Perfect! We made our first stop -- the BX. There, I picked out my buddy Owen's birthday gift. Dad helped me pick out a Matchbox car for myself -- a skidsteer. You're probably thinking, "Sheesh, shouldn't that kid wait until Christmas! He's always getting stuff." Hold your horses; don't hate; and I'm pretty sure jealousy is a sin. Actually, here's the deal. I have it figured out. I have to capitalize on this cuteness stuff while I can. Eventually, I'll be a big kid with a deep voice that detracts from my blue eyes and blond ehair, and I'll probably have some major muscles. So, do you think Mom and Dad are really going to be convinced to buy me things as often when I'm a hunk like that? No. So, I have to take the stuff while I can - turn on that toddler charm every chance I get. I think Churchill once said, "Youth is wasted on the young." Something like that. Well, let me tell ya. No youth will be wasted on me.
We departed the BX. I popped some goldfish and wondered where the heck we were going. We went up the street and wow, that's when my eyes caught sight of the bouncy castles. Really? Seriously? Owen? Is this your birthday? Because, if it is, you've somehow really turned on that toddler charm. I'm thinkin', "Owen, you need to write self-help books. I'd buy one." Nah, it wasn't a party for Owen. It was the base "Barbecue and Blues" festival. Sweet! They even had a firetruck.
For the first time ever, I got to play in the bouncy castle. I really think parents ought to invest in these for indoor use. In fact, if I had a million dollars, I'd convert my room into a huge bouncy "fort." (Locke can't seem to put together a decent investment portfolio for me. Hence, no million dollars yet. Working on contacting the E-trade baby. We've obviously got some things in common.)
Yeah so, definitely NOT a "castle." It would be a fort. Castles are for girls and babies. Forts are for dudes like me. I haven't decided on the specs, but I'm seriously considering submitting some plans to the Housing Office here on base. I'd entitle it, "Slight Improvement to Existent Domain." Actually, it would probably have to be a little more "wishy washy/political/meaningless/bureaucratic" than that if I wanted to get approval from the Civil Engineering Squadron. I'd have to write something completely retarded, completely PC. Hmmm. I should probably consult my lawyer. Locke has taken over my investments, but Albert has been studying law. He even kiped a pair of glasses that make him look "official." All lawyers wear glasses. He could pass off as Atticus Finch. I'll get Albert to write me a really good letter.
Oh geez, I'm really getting excited about converting my room into a bouncy "fort." Obviously, I had a ton of fun in the bouncy "castles" at this festival thing. And, of course, my pals were there. I didn't eat any barbecue because, well... Here's the deal. The Officers Club was serving up "free" barbecue. Trust me, I took one look at the stuff and knew that I'd rather take my chances on a "free" lunch at a public school cafeteria. Seriously, I'm not sure why they had Koreans cookin' up American style barbecue. It's like asking an American from a farm in Topeka, Kansas who has been cooking corn and beef all his life to make some Korean barbecue and kimchi. What they should have done is have the Koreans cook up their Bulgogi. At least, Mom and Dad enjoyed a few morsels. Luckily, I dined on the Pepperidge Farm Saturday special **Parmesan....(drum roll)....fish sun-baked to crisp perfection**.
Well, I need to talk to Albert about my fort letter.
I got my bulldog shirt on, and I knew we were headed for fun when Dad put my shoes on. I get kind of excited about shoes.
It was beautiful outside -- warm, not too humid, blue skies. Perfect! We made our first stop -- the BX. There, I picked out my buddy Owen's birthday gift. Dad helped me pick out a Matchbox car for myself -- a skidsteer. You're probably thinking, "Sheesh, shouldn't that kid wait until Christmas! He's always getting stuff." Hold your horses; don't hate; and I'm pretty sure jealousy is a sin. Actually, here's the deal. I have it figured out. I have to capitalize on this cuteness stuff while I can. Eventually, I'll be a big kid with a deep voice that detracts from my blue eyes and blond ehair, and I'll probably have some major muscles. So, do you think Mom and Dad are really going to be convinced to buy me things as often when I'm a hunk like that? No. So, I have to take the stuff while I can - turn on that toddler charm every chance I get. I think Churchill once said, "Youth is wasted on the young." Something like that. Well, let me tell ya. No youth will be wasted on me.
We departed the BX. I popped some goldfish and wondered where the heck we were going. We went up the street and wow, that's when my eyes caught sight of the bouncy castles. Really? Seriously? Owen? Is this your birthday? Because, if it is, you've somehow really turned on that toddler charm. I'm thinkin', "Owen, you need to write self-help books. I'd buy one." Nah, it wasn't a party for Owen. It was the base "Barbecue and Blues" festival. Sweet! They even had a firetruck.
For the first time ever, I got to play in the bouncy castle. I really think parents ought to invest in these for indoor use. In fact, if I had a million dollars, I'd convert my room into a huge bouncy "fort." (Locke can't seem to put together a decent investment portfolio for me. Hence, no million dollars yet. Working on contacting the E-trade baby. We've obviously got some things in common.)
Yeah so, definitely NOT a "castle." It would be a fort. Castles are for girls and babies. Forts are for dudes like me. I haven't decided on the specs, but I'm seriously considering submitting some plans to the Housing Office here on base. I'd entitle it, "Slight Improvement to Existent Domain." Actually, it would probably have to be a little more "wishy washy/political/meaningless/bureaucratic" than that if I wanted to get approval from the Civil Engineering Squadron. I'd have to write something completely retarded, completely PC. Hmmm. I should probably consult my lawyer. Locke has taken over my investments, but Albert has been studying law. He even kiped a pair of glasses that make him look "official." All lawyers wear glasses. He could pass off as Atticus Finch. I'll get Albert to write me a really good letter.
Oh geez, I'm really getting excited about converting my room into a bouncy "fort." Obviously, I had a ton of fun in the bouncy "castles" at this festival thing. And, of course, my pals were there. I didn't eat any barbecue because, well... Here's the deal. The Officers Club was serving up "free" barbecue. Trust me, I took one look at the stuff and knew that I'd rather take my chances on a "free" lunch at a public school cafeteria. Seriously, I'm not sure why they had Koreans cookin' up American style barbecue. It's like asking an American from a farm in Topeka, Kansas who has been cooking corn and beef all his life to make some Korean barbecue and kimchi. What they should have done is have the Koreans cook up their Bulgogi. At least, Mom and Dad enjoyed a few morsels. Luckily, I dined on the Pepperidge Farm Saturday special **Parmesan....(drum roll)....fish sun-baked to crisp perfection**.
Well, I need to talk to Albert about my fort letter.
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