A Note on the Daily Grind

I am now a stay-at-home-dad. Yep, Mr. Mom for me. So I'd like now to share with you all the WilkeWorld SAHD menu for K and Touchdown.

Breakfast--we have a couple of choices here.

Hay--aka Frosted Mini Wheats
Crunchies--aka Captain Crunch with Crunchberries
Mini Pancakes but only if placed in the shape of a flower on the plate.
Awfuls--aka Eggo waffles
Toasties--toasted bread with butter and cinnamon

You will notice the absence of eggs and bacon and sausage and fruits and well, anything else that might be good. Take up your grievances with the shopper--aka The Wife.

Lunch is always an interesting chore since Touchdown is very particular about nearly everything she ever eats.

Chicken Fingers--but only if placed on the plate like the petals of a flower
Dora Soup (Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup in the forms of the Dora friends) This is a big hit.
PB and J (No J is currently available. Take up your grievances with the shopper.)
Leftovers from the night before--Usually something I prepared that others did not eat.
Bananas that haven't been made into banana bread.
Occasional other tidbits that fall from the master's table.

Dinner--okay, here is where the wife gets involved quite often although she is trying her darndest to exempt herself from cooking by burning the pork ribs and clumping the cheese in the instant potatoes. By her own admission, they were barely edible. I loved them however and ate nearly everything. That ought to tell you just how desperate I am. I am tempted to call my father and beg for the hot dog surprise that he is so good at making.

Okay, I had better end this post before I get locked in the bedroom without any food. Off to make a PB and whatever sandwich to Touchdown. It ought to be interesting.

A Memory of Another Teacher

My wife probably doesn't want me to tell this story in the least but I shall for a couple of different reasons that will become clear as the story goes on.

My wife and I attended school together the very same year although we did not get hooked up until 14 years later. As such, we shared the same English teacher, Mrs. Nield. Apparently the Evil Genius, my brother-in-law had tormented and teased Mrs. Nield so much when he was in high school that she determined to punish everyone associated with him, including his sweet innocent sister (that would be my wife). Now you may not believe that that would be something a sweet old lady would do, but I offer up this story as evidence that, indeed, she had it out for my wife.

My wife was never an exemplary student but she got A's and B's and was always quite diligent. In fact, she was a voracious reader and always got A's in English, but for some reason, she couldn't get anything but a C in Mrs. Nield's class. She often submitted her papers to other teachers just to make sure she was on the right track and they always said she wrote very well and they couldn't understand the grade.

The wife was certain she was the victim of fraternal discrimination, so she arranged a little experiment. She talked to a boy that consistently wrote wonderful essays and always got straight A's in the class and was a bit of a teacher's pet to Mrs. Nield. She convinced him to switch papers with her to test out the hypothesis. She also did it with the full knowledge of her parents who were skeptical but supportive.

Well the rouse went off without a hitch and the papers were returned graded. The wife got the expected C and the teacher's pet got the A. She had caught the teacher playing favorites. She approached the teacher with the other boy to confront her about the grades. When the truth was revealed, the wife got sent to the principal's office and given an F for cheating, even though she had written the A paper. Her parent's protested to the principal, but the principal and the school board backed the teacher and her punishment stood up.

The wife has never really liked writing since then.

A Memory of Mr. Simmons

I don't really know what got me thinking about this, but I remember my sixth-grade teacher, Mr. Simmons quite vividly and I felt the need today to tell you all a little about him.

Mr. Simmons looked just like John Wayne and he even had a rough, rolling swagger and a Western drawl just like the "Duke". I recall being petrified to get him as a teacher because he was so stern and mean, or so it seemed to me as a fourth and fifth grader. My fourth grade year my class was directly across the hall from his class, which was upstairs in the corner, and I remember that the kids never came out of his class smiling.

He had an evil looking grimace and an even more menacing paddle. You all know about the paddles that the teacher's all possessed. Well, Mr. Simmons had the paddle to end all paddles. It was a baseball bat that he had sanded down flat and bored several holes into just so that the wind resistence was minimal as it was pounding someone's butt. I don't remember exactly, but I think he called it "Lucille" or "Greta" or something like that. We were all so scared of him and it.

Well, I remember the fateful day that I found out that instead of getting the really super cool Mr. Samuelson, I got stuck with Mr. Simmons. To make matters worse, we all were getting shipped to a new sixth grade center. I was devastated. You will recall that I was a budding Spelling Champion back in those days and I was quite a little wiseacre to boot.

I went to Mr. Simmons class with my tail between my knees hoping to avoid the wrath of the "Duke" and what I found shocked me.

Mr. Simmons took a liking to our class for some reason and he was absolutely the coolest teacher I have ever had in my entire life. He was just a stud. He encouraged everyone in the class to be creative and explore avenues they had never before considered. He would joke with the whole class and especially me. He took quite a liking to me. I am not sure why, but he mentioned that I reminded him of a younger him.

We did see "Lucille" on occasion, but only when Paul Brown, the class disruptor got too out of hand. I remember Paul begging Mr. Simmons to show him some mercy as the rest of the class cheered in approval as Paul got hauled out to the hall to be punished.

Mr. Simmons actually cried on the last day of class and pulled me aside and told me how much fun he had had that entire year. I know that teachers play a big part in shaping the fortunes of so many children in these times and I am just so blessed to have had so many dedicated teachers that help mold me. Here's to you Mr. Simmons. You were the man.

How about you? Tell me a little bit about your best teachers. Oh, and no Mary Kay LeTourneau stories, please.

A Note on the New Digs

What do you all think of the new digs? A big hug and a sloppy sea cow kiss goes out to Tamara at CyberVassals for her wonderful work on the new template. She has now been officially sworn in as the WilkeWorld Art Director and will officially be recognized as the first WilkeWorlder to have her mug on a stamp should we ever have stamps. Thanks go out to her for her fine work.

On another front, I have received the t-shirt and the official pic of Howie, our adopted sea cow. We are still awaiting the name of the sea cow but I should have the promised pictures up in a few days (I am still fasting to fit in the shirt).

A shout out goes to Grandpa Jones and his delightful wife as I have heard through the grapevine that he went body surfing in the Atlantic Ocean during hurricane-like conditions and did not drown. Kudos to the Wizard.

As for things here in the palace, Touchdown is on again/off again with the potty training. We have stopped pressuring her altogether and it has had a mixed effect at best. I am just hoping that she stops peeing on my side of the bed in the middle of the night. I take her immediately back to her room, but she seems to leave a little mess before she goes.

Lastly, a big hug goes out to my wife. Why? Because she deserves it living with me.

Don't Mind Me, Just Sweepin' the Floors

Ok. This is CyberVassals. A few days late, but just as sweet. I'm just commendeering (sp) this site in order to install a previously promised design. Yep. I did state publically that if this here owner adopted a sea cow, I would whip him up a new template. Well, he did and I did so I am here this evening installing said template and basically making a mess of things. If things look broken, just drop us a comment and we'll try to get it fixed up lickety split.Thanks for your patience.

CyberVassals.

A Note on Answered Prayers

I know I am going to hash this retelling, but I am entitled to a bit of creative license.

My nephew, we'll call him Alex, recently had a birthday and we got him a gift certificate to Target. He is now four years old and he is just getting into Star Wars, so he decided to use his gift certificate to buy five, count them, five Star Wars Action Figures. He was so excited but considering that he is only four, he soon lost one of the action figures.

Well, he searched high and low for the action figure and pestered his mom and dad endlessly as he was devastated and wanted them to help find it. From what I understand, it was quite the ordeal. Well, my sister decided to go the prayer route and suggested to Alex that he pray for help in finding his action hero. The prayer went something like this...

"Dear Heavenly Father, please help me find Super Duper Death Star Blower-Upper Dude. I really need Your help. I miss him."

Well, as you all must know, the action figure in question was soon found and order and peace was soon restored to the household. With such a miraculous turn of events, my sister suggested the following.

"Alex, don't you think you had better thank your Heavenly Father for helping you find your action figure?"

With a supremely serious face that belied his age, he looked straight into his mother's eyes and responded. "Mom, when I die, I will tell Him myself."

I am glad that all got worked out....

A Note on Blog Templates

Not to get too technical on all of you, but here at WilkeWorld, we are due to get a new Blog Template thingie thanks to Tamara at Cybervassals. She is still in the tweaking stages but I think it will be a comfortable new home for us all. I am actually quite excited.

When it is up and functioning, I will give Tamara a great big sloppy sea cow kiss as she is doing this in honor of the fact that we adopted a sea cow. She is the bomb.

In other WilkeWorld news, I have not yet recieved the packet from the Savethemanatee.org people so I am trying to lose some weight before the XL shirt arrives. John wants a picture of me in the shirt posted on the site and I really don't want to scare all of you, so I am on a ten day crash fast.

I have also been working diligently on my novel and in the next few days I will post another five, count them, five new chapters. I hate how they will be in inversed order on the blog, but c'est la vie. You all can access the chapters via the link in my blogroll called My Online Book.

Lastly, the teenager this weekend, attended her first church-sponsored dance. Here in Utah, it is a big deal and the wife and her had quite a time finding the appropriate dance attire. Apparently it went well, all except the slow dances, they were a disaster. She is determined to attend more, though, so it couldn't have been too awful.

A Note on the Potty

I am seriously going to pull all of my hair out if things don't change at some point. Now before I hear everybody's sure-fire way to accomplish the task, I will just say that I ALREADY TRIED THAT and it didn't work.

Yesterday's conversation went a little like this.

"Touchdown, why do you go pee-pee in your pullup when the potty is right there, three feet away?"

"Well, Daddy, I'm cold and the pee-pee is warm and it makes me feel warm."

How exactly do you combat that reasoning?

Another revelation that she gave me was that she does not like me very much because I make her feel bad when she pee-pees in her pullup. She doesn't make me feel sad when I do something wrong to her, why do I make her feel sad?

This is not in the handbook. The fact that the two-year-old has a higher IQ than me and is not afraid to use it scares the snikeys out of me.

A Note on the Adoption Proceedings

As you must all know, the $35 has gone to the good folks at savethemanatee.org and we should be receiving our packet and a special XL T-shirt which I will don to honor the occasion when it arrives.

Several of you have wondered which one of the endangered sea cows we adopted. Well, as King, I selected Howie of the Blue Springs Clan. I chose this particular sea cow because he seems to have the qualities we esteem here in WilkeWorld, mainly, he likes to tip over the researchers' boat. You gotta love that in a mascot.

Of course, we will be anxiously awaiting Shaleen's naming of the sea cow with baited breath. We liked some of her initial suggestions and hope that she will choose wisely. Of course, the sea cow will have free reign in the moat and will host the Super Bowl every January. Your work is cut out for you Shaleen.

Well, that pretty much catches you up on everything. Enjoy your evening, citizens.

A Note on the Siren of the Sea

Well, folks. I have good news regarding the adoption of the manatee. It appears as though I will be sending in $35 to adopt our manatee for here at WilkeWorld. Here's how the finances worked out for the adoption.

1. I, along with the teenager and the wife, entered a few projects into the Washington County Fair last week. I entered a photograph, a poem, and a story while the two lovely ladies entered photographs and scrapbook pages. It cost nothing to enter the fair and the agreement was that whatever money we garnered from any ribbons could be used as we saw fit.

2. Well, the judging went well as the girls garnered blue ribbons all the way around. I, on the other hand, struggled to get two red ribbons and a blue for my story. However, as luck would have it, my blue-ribbon story was crowned Grand Champion in the literary competition. I won the whole thing. Go figure.

3. The take was as follows:

The King:
Grand Champion Ribbon--$25
Blue Ribbon--$5
Red Ribbon(Poem)--$4
Red Ribbon(Photo)--$3

Total--$37
WilkeWorld Sea Cow Fund $-35
Total take for the K Jones Get Well Fund--$2

The Queen is now laughing at how foolish I am giving my money up to adopt a sea cow. She has no vision. I will post pictures of our sea cow when they arrive.

A Note on Antibiotics

They aren't working. Aaaarrrrrggggghhhhh!!!!!!!!!

A Note on Slumber

It is now 8:00 a.m. and the girls from teenager's slumber party are still slumbering. However, at 2:00 a.m. they were still chatting away. I am tempted to unleash the fury that is Touchdown down upon them. Oh, how I wonder what the result of such an experiment would be.

Note to self: Palace is not a good place for slumber parties.

A List of Things the Queen Doesn't Want to Hear from the King

As I mentioned before, the King has been severely under the weather over the last few days. With that in mind, I have been bored out of my head. So......I decided to try and write a few haikus.

Well with that in mind, here's the list.

1. Honey, I just wrote three haikus.
2. You don't mind if I fluff the covers, do you?
3. You know, you're right. Tom Selleck is yummy.
4. The kids are yours today, I am off to the Playstation tournament.
5. My mother is coming for the week.
6. No, really, hon, you look fine in that dress.
7. Do you know anyone that can wax my back?
8. Whoa, they're coming out with ESPN III.
9. You know, hon, I have a headache.
10. I can't believe we lost that Canasta game to the Wizard.

A Note on Speedos

This will be a quick one as the king is down and out with a sinus infection.

Grandma and Grandpa Jones (aka The Wizard) are travelling to Northern Virginia this weekend to visit my sister and the grandkids in Alexandria. They are expected to spend quite a bit of time at the beach house that my sister rents every summer. Oh, they are so excited, but they have been advised to bring their swimming gear. A tough chore for the geriatric wizard and his fair wife, but Grandma seems to be doing fine rounding up all the necessary clothing.

The problem is that my sister has told them that they need swimsocks because the beach has lots of coral and she doesn't want them to hurt their feet. Grandma can't find those things anywhere so she went online and found that Speedo makes them so she ordered them.

Image Grandpa Jones' dismay upon reading the confirmation on his e-mail. He really thought his wife had bought him a Speedo swimming suit. He nearly had a heart attack.

Oh, what I would have paid to have been there to see that. Now introducing "Mr. Utah".

A List from the King

Before I post this list, I have to take care of some blogkeeping chores.

First and foremost, a big thanks goes out to Laurie Murray of the Alchera Project. Laurie posted a contest on her site about 2 months ago that encouraged members to write about a favorite charity and why it meant so much to the writer. I like Alchera, so I thought I would try my hand at writing something. I never imagined that I might win the contest but I did and the first prize was $50 donated to that charity. I picked the Brinkerhoff Humanitarian Fund and I am so pleased that Grandpa Jones and the good people that control the fund were so honored. If you want to read my entry, you can find it here. Thanks again, Laurie.

Along those same lines, the Alchera Project has a couple of new prompts up for this month. One of them involves making a list of things you would do if you were king of the world. Now the catch is that you must make the list a product of your own ego. So, in honor of the newly elected WilkeWorld cabinet, I feel I must submit my list of demands. So in a perfect WilkeWorld, it might look something like this:

1. Grandpa Jones could only comment on my blog if he beat me in Canasta.
2. There would be no coconut.
3. Doritos would grow on trees that line each and every road.
4. The Wife/Queen would nod in agreement each and every time I spoke.
5. The children of the king would have to bring the king the paper, orange juice, and slippers every morning.
6. People over the age of 70 must get approval from me to drive cars.
7. People under the age of 24 must get approval from the queen to use a cell phone.
8. All people must pass a stupidity test to have kids. (I am not sure how to score this test yet. I mean, who gets to have kids? The stupid ones? or the smart ones?)
9. Babysitting would be mandatory punishment for any and all crimes.
10. All music must have some music in it.
11. Recess would last just as long as classes.
12. Golf would be free.
13. Popcorn and sodas at the movie theaters would cost the same but entrance to the theater would be free if the movie stunk it up.
14. I could fly.
15. All school teachers would be required to pass an easy competency exam administered by me. Sample question: Write a sentence with a noun, a verb and an adjective.
16. Cops would all be named Roscoe P. Coltrane.
17. Dogs wouldn't poop.
18. Arizona would use daylight savings time just like the rest of the nation.
19. Buildings would have a thirteenth floor and there would be a continual party going on there.
20. WilkeWorlders would all be filthy rich.

A Note on Pindar

Okay, I know most of you do not show up here to listen to me wax philosophical, so I won't. Instead I present this poem.

An Ode to Parenthood

Most sweetly now the children rest

Fond dreams held tightly to each breast,

An honor to the King.

Yet not two minutes e'en have passed

Since they've destroyed and rent the cast

Of each and ev'ry thing.

Yes, Grandpa's muse, her eyes beguile

Twisting and tempting with her smile,

His wallet she has won.

But where's he at when she tinkles

Or soils stuff with choc'late sprinkles

Or lies 'bout stuff she's done.

No, sleeping angels with clipped wings,

Though blessed with love and all that brings

Can still a pain inflict,

But lest I seem too overjoyed

Without them there would be a void

Just like a nose that's picked.

It's not Pindaric in any form, but it is written in the form of Thomas Gray's elegant and oafish "Ode on the Death of a Favourite Cat".

A Memory of the Pillow

Alas, as many of the citizens know, I was a bachelor until the sweet age of 32 and, while I'm devastatingly good looking, my experiences with women prior to my marriage were, well, essentially nonexistent. So imagine my shock and surprise as I had this encounter with the Queen.

We had been married a short time, perhaps a few months, and were living in the enclave of Kaysville, Utah in a multistory starter house with aluminum siding and a cookie-cutter garage. I was getting used to the idea of sleeping with a partner and found myself relatively comfortable on a queen-sized mattress with another soul (she's a dead sleeper and I've got sleep apnia, so we were a match made in heaven), but on this particular night, she was having trouble sleeping and I had got on her case to relax a little bit and quit shaking the bed.

Well, her problem stemmed from the fact that the heater had turned on and was blowing hot air out of the floor vents on my side of the bed. I had no problem tossing the sheets aside and sleeping on top of the bed, but she liked the covers and, with the heat on, she was roasting. She tossed and turned much to my chagrin, but eventually I succumbed to my exhaustion and passed out, asleep laying on my back. I was just about into a good little REM sleep when I heard the tiniest little shuffle at the foot of the bed.

I knew no one should be at the foot of the bed at that hour and I froze in fear. Still in a haze from my imminent sleep, I anxiously peeked out of one eye to see my wife gripping a pillow firmly in both hands heading to where I lay in a daze. I recall her trying to soothe me by saying, "Its all right, K. Everything will be all right."

Oh, great. I've been married all of three months and I've driven my wife so nuts that she is going to suffocate me in the middle of the night with her pillow. Way to go, Jones.

"Honey," I began tentatively. "You must know just how ominous this whole thing seems right now to me. I hope your not doing what I think your doing."

"No, honey," she replied quickly. "I'm just covering the vent. If I wanted to kill you, I'd poison your food. You're a fat guy. Give me some credit."

Wedded bliss.

A Note on the Bookcase

Just purchased a beautiful ladder bookcase for our formal living room. How in the world are we going to prevent Touchdown from climbing up it. Seriously. Help. Emergency Preparedness Minister????

A Note for the Gipper

A man bereft, a loss of guilt and hope
Absolved of yet another painful wish.
He sees his legacy expire and wilt.
A pack of wolves devour the lifeless form.

Atop a world inclined to pray, he stood.
A beacon healing all who deigned to hear.
No enemies to conquer now, at last
His mind so feeble laying in the grave.

A captain rues the steely battle's end
But fights with grim resolve to win the prize.
America, the beautiful, the Great
Communicator now in silence rests.


****Once again this was written as a prompt from the Alchera Project. It is a blank verse poem written in strict iambic pentameter. I again hope the citizens don't mind the King's artistic forays.

A Quick Note from the Palace

All seems to be running smoothly. People are in the garden having tea, conspirators are huddling in their masses plotting, and the wizard is busy trying to figure out how to use the spell check on Microsoft Word. Yes, all seems to be pleasant.

One further appointment. Lucy Stern, you have been appointed Minister of Emergency Preparedness and, by the looks of things here, you'd better get your canned meats out and heat up the Hibachi.