Blacksheep Speaks

Welcome back!

Everyone has occasional computer problems. In my case, the problem sits somewhere between the keyboard and the chair.

Want to male sure your laptop becomes the most aggravating machine on the planet, while simultaneously ensuring that you won’t be checking out Outer Banks rentals this year because your vacation money will be spent on computer repairs? It’s simple, really. You start by pouring yourself a cup of coffee. Then, as you take a drink, be sure and drip it on the keyboard, being careful to get the drips between the left shift key and the caps lock key. Then, just wait a few minutes. If you are really lucky, this will ensure that your caps lock will start turning itself on and off at random intercals, making it impossible to type anything without going back for extensive editing. Yeppers, it’s been a great weekend.

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With the surgery behind us now, we are making preparations for Wendi’s homecoming and aftercare. I had no idea how hard it was going to be. Oh, not the medical part. It’s dealing with the school that is really getting to me. See, from the very beginning, the doctor’s office has made it clear that during the recovery time there is to be NO school work. They want her to heal without stressing over homework. But the school has been JUST as adamant that she must have an at home tutor, and they do not hear when told the doctor doesn’t want it. NOW they want a doctor’s note telling them they can do this, when the doctor is refusing, and I have to get this note OR ELSE. Maybe some time in the near future, light bulbs will click on over the administration’s heads and they will uncover their ears. Until then, this is a real mess.

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Life can be cruel sometimes. The high school band that my daughter has belonged to since sixth grade went to Florida this year. They had been planning for this trip all year long, and it only happens one time every four years, so it will not happen again while my daughter is in high school. Both her older sisters got to go, and she had been looking forward to the trip all year. However, a short time ago, she found out that because of the condition of her back and the timing of the trip, she just plain could not go. How do you make something like that up to a fifteen year old? Even if I could afford to go to a travel agent and set up the family for one of those Orlando vacations they offer all the time, it wouldn’t be the same. Her friends returned from the trip a few days ago. They brought her gifts from Universal Studios and Disney, but I have yet to figure out whether it made her feel better or only emphasized the loss. Sometimes being a parent is no fun at all.

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Yesterday, my fifteen year old daughter underwent one of the most painful surgeries known to man. As a parent, you hope you can spare your children these things, and the ache when you cannot can be devastating. And, thanks to the legal world, the pre-op ordeal is incredibly frustrating as well. My child was asked about birth control, appetite suppressants, vitamin C, everything… no less than FIVE times. However, in spite of everything, the rods along her spine are now in place. We have no official word yet on how much correction was actually achieved, but with an eighty six degree curve, it’s got to be better. Through the painkiller haze she tells me that she can breathe a lot easier. So, now we wait for the official results, and just pray it was all worth it.

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I am almost forty two years old. To me, that isn’t such a much. But to the twenty one year old weasel in law, that apparently makes me archaic. You see, the other day, it came up in conversation that I not only knew what the Crypt Keeper is (even if I DO think it’s creator must be in need of drug rehab) and that I remembered when he was created. The weasel in law found this astonishing. When asked why… he said that all the videos of the Crypt Keeper looked “normal”. Upon further investigation, it turns out that he was of the opinion that anything created when I was a teen must be in Technicolor. I tell you, this boy is a few pickles shy of a barrel. I keep thinking he would fit right in if he got a job at the white house, but hey, what do I know? I’m a dinosaur.

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