Category Archives: Daughters

Carl, The Cat!

My daughters wanted a cat several years ago. I put my foot down. Absolutely not! No cat! Zero! Zilch! None! Ever!

They kept on. I said no, no, no! They kept on. I said no kitten, no way!

They kept on. It was like verbal water boarding, so finally, I agreed to go look, but that’s all! Just look! Understand? No cat, period. Just looking!

We adopted Carl the next day.

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The Old White Truck

It’s official! The old 96 GMC pickup has been driven solo by all eight of my kids!

My Dad would be proud! Or maybe, just maybe, the floors of heaven opened up for just a minute so he could see Jessica, the last of my Mohicans, drive the truck he bought new before he died. In that case, it’s safe to say he IS proud!

Me too!

It’s a wonder the ole white beast truck has survived at all! Clocking in at just under 200,000 miles, it has seen better days, but it’s still a solid truck. It’s just good to have solid metal surrounding a teenage driver, ya know? Even with no radio, air conditioning, fan blower and a tailgate that won’t open without a pair of pliers, the old fellow just putts along. And besides, who needs air conditioning in Texas anyway??

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Beelzebub’s Workers

It’s pretty much the same every time. “Daddy, there’s a boy I want you to meet.  Can he come over?”  It starts with a 30 to 40 minute interrogation about who he is, who are his friends, where’s he go, how do you know him, what do his parents do, does he have a prison record, etc.  I usually get his height and weight too, just in case I have to dig a shallow grave in the woods.

If he makes it through that hurdle, then I’ll get, “Well, Daddy” – blink, blink and a puppy dog expression – “Can he come over?”   I put my hand on my forehead, not to be dramatic, but because a major headache is setting in, and I blurt out a foolish, half hearted, “Ahhhh!  Yeeeees. He can come over.”  And with that, another one of Beelzebub’s workers has an appointment to “hang out” with one of my daughters. Continue reading Beelzebub’s Workers