It’s no surprise to anyone who knows me that I am mentally allergic to kids. It might be physical as well, though I have never been around an infant long enough to make a definitive determination. At times I think it may be genetic. Although I did not find that gene in my 23andMe report card.
My older siblings tell me that our father had little to do with us before we could compete in a sport or talk passionately about a sport. You see, before he preached the gospel, he was the sports publicist for the University of Southern Mississippi’s Golden Eagles. He was as passionate about competition as he was about Passover.
And, full disclosure, there was only one time in my life I was tasked with changing a sopping wet diaper, also overflowing with yellow diarrhea, and it left a most indelible impression. I have no trouble with feces in all of its forms but, for some reason, the combination of a squealing, wailing, screeching, wriggling child disgorging turmeric-colored stool was a bridge too far.
I do have one positive kid story I am fond of telling.
One afternoon an emergency came up for Hans and Ellen Slette, who are former river guides, and they needed to beeline it to Wenatchee. Sadly, someone they knew had been hospitalized and they needed to be at their bedside as quickly as possible. Their three sons were under the age of ten, Vince the older and Shane and Cole his twin siblings. I live nearby and they knew, because it was the off-season for my river running enterprise, I was probably at home navel-gazing.
I am confident I would not have been their first thought unless it was an emergency. I am sure the Slette boys, if they thought of me at all, thought of me as the surly mom and dad acquaintance with the surly pit bull mix, Daisy. The guy who has been ‘social distancing’ with them for, like, forever.
Hans and Ellen deposited their gaggle of kids with me and dashed off to Wenatchee. They weren’t sure how long they would be gone. It must have been later in the day, or winter, because venturing, or letting, the troop outside wasn’t an option.
Living on an acre in a rural neighborhood where dogs roam free is nice. My dogs have always just been let out the door to go fend for themselves. Fortunately, Daisy and Sally did, and do, not roam. They’re home bodies like their dad. I have joked that in 14 years I never once picked up one of Daisy’s turds because. . . they were nowhere to be found. I didn’t know where to go look. And, during her entire existence, no neighbor ever knocked on my door to complain about a plethora of dog poop.
Obviously, Daisy was a discreet pooper. And, boy, scanning that last paragraph, have I digressed!
So, playing outside was not an option for the Slette boys due to darkness or weather conditions. I knew they were avid soccer fans and would even tolerate a Seahawks game, but no games were being televised. So, we settled on a movie but I was skeptical whatever movie we chose would hold their attention long enough. From what I could gather they considered themselves too old for your typical, animated children’s movie (something like Charlotte’s Web) and too young for your more sophisticated film options (something like Schindler’s List).
Besides, I think I was hoping for something I could tolerate watching with them.
We settled on Nacho Libre starring Jack Black, (me, somewhat reluctantly), and the rest is history. We bonded a tiny bit because Nacho Libre was a border line film that might not have made the safe-to-be-seen cut at home. I got a kick out of all the outlandish wrestling costumes and the Slette boys got a kick out of the fight scenes. I might also have plied them with some real nachos, thereby ruining their appetites for dinner.
Now I was the surly mom and dad acquaintance, with the surly pit bull mix (Daisy - who, by the way, was never certain about kids) who could, on occasion, be a tad bit cool.
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The cover photo is of me with Luke and Jake Hedlund, Kaley Porter, Hannah McCabe, Abby Chapman, April McCabe and Danielle Alden(?) at the old Copper Notch Lodge owned by the Harriet Bullitt family and, at the time, care taken by Greg and Sharon Lunz. Living proof that I just make shit up.
Also, Episode 3 of Some Good News is out and we all could use as much of that as possible.
Believe me, I was a hair’s breadth away from an all out rant today. I’ll stew on it.
But it’s always interesting shit. 😎
Good stuff 🤙🏽✌️🙏🏾🤪