Ramblings from the Marginalized

It was a cool brisk fall evening when Joe happened upon the events that would change his life forever.

He had gone for a bite to eat after school that afternoon. Pizza, his usual choice, sausage and mushrooms. He had gotten 3 slices and finished them all, along with a large soda.
He carried his thin, wary form out the door of Mario's Pizzeria and onto the sidewalk running along Downtown. A quick breeze stirred the dirty blond hair that hadn't been cut in months. Stuffing his hands into the leather jacket he had gotten the previous Christmas, he held it closer to block out the wind that continued to blow around him.

Joe's mind began to wander the same way his feet were wandering - not along their normal route. Don't misunderstand - Joe's mind carried him off often, as with any teenage mind, but this time it wasn't the standard sports and girls or late assignments that drew his attention from the damp sidewalk in front of him. Something that Mrs. Underwood had said today during History class had sparked his interest to the point that he couldn't keep it from intruding on every class for the rest of the day.

"The only limits you need to observe, are the limits you place on yourself."

She had been talking about one of Ben Franklin's inventions innovating life at the time, but the comment instantly struck Joe as something to pay attention to. He had been limiting himself quite a bit lately. In Math he had purposely answered a few test questions wrong in order to prevent his sixth perfect test in a row; in Gym he had to slow his speed so that he wouldn't outrun Coach Bailey. Ever since starting at Carter High School he had been doing that more and more. His ability to do so well only served to make him feel more alone, further from the few friends he did have. He was still doing better than he ever had before, things were just so clear lately. He looked at a hard math problem, or at another hurdle on the track around the football field and it just ... made sense.

Joe finally found his way home, and as he was turning the doorknob to go inside when a bright flash of light drew his attention behind him. It was far off in the distance but he couldn't take his eyes off of it.

Another bright flash! This one was further away still. Joe couldn't explain it at all, but each time it would flash, his body would pulse in time with it. Three, four, five flashes later and he convulsed with each of them. One final flash brightened up the night sky and making it day again. Joe's body shook violently and he could feel the blood flow through each tiny vein as it pulsed along with the light. Suddenly, everything went black!

Joe lifted his head from the wooden slats of the porch floor to his family's house. It was still dark out. He looked hard into the darkness to spot the light he seen only moments ago. Or was it hours? he checked his watch and it showed 9:15 PM. That sounded right to him, fifteen minutes until curfew. That should be just enough time.

His legs moved almost on their own after that. He willed himself towards the small wood where the light had come from. The pounding of his blood through veins and arteries had subsided, at least for now. He felt mostly normal except for the increasingly heavy breathing from running. Closer and closer he came to the spot where he assumed the light had come from. As he ran the images of the light from earlier replayed in his mind. The picture in his head was so crisp, so clear, so real. He saw himself looking at the light, feeling his body react to the pulsing glow. He stopped the reeling in his mind before getting to the point where the blackout happened.

Joe took of his jacket, the sweat starting to build and becoming a hindrance. The cool night air felt almost cold against his moist skin. As he tossed the jacket aside he heard a noise. That noise should have been a plop on the ground when the jacket hit, but it wasn't. Curious, he looked back to the spot the jacket would have landed.

Small waves radiated from the spot the jacket had fallen into the water. In disbelief he looked around himself and saw that he was standing about a mile straight into the middle of the lake. His mind reeled once again at how this was possible, and how he was standing motionless on top of the water.

And then he wasn't.

I'd like to thank Steve for the opportunity to write for the site. I haven't seen any works of fiction up here previously, so I don't know how well it'll be received. Thought provoking I hope! If you like what you read, and would like to see a continuation of this story, or perhaps a new one altogether, I am starting up a blog: ProdigalKnight. I look forward to hearing your feedback and hope all is going well at the Day Camp this week for Steve!

editor's note: No works of fiction? Check out the story section!

~ Whitdjinn

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This post was guest blogged by Roy Wood aka esofthub of My SysAd Blog and FreeAdLists. HMTK asked me to guest blog and share some of my military experiences with you. Let me preface this post by saying that I always thought I had the potential to make great strides in my life, but I was just surprised by how much of the confidence and determination I lacked would be gained from having been a soldier for the United States Army. I would like to dedicate this post to all those who have and will serve in the U.S. Army, Hooah!

One Friday night, in mid August 1994, my best friend and I were shooting pool and having a few brews at the local Pinky’s billiards hall in Tempe, AZ. After a few more cold ones, we started talking about doing something we had always wanted to do, serve our country and “Be all you can be.” That motto played in my head at least a thousand times. It was finally time for us to step up to the plate and follow through on something we had such deep convictions about. A few days later, we visited the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS) in Phoenix, AZ. We were both going to continue the family tradition of military service, so we were determined to do our families proud.

While at MEPS, we both signed up for military occupational specialties that included cash bonuses, GI Bill, and college loan repayment incentives. Having just completed college, I was strapped with debt and needed financial relief. I also decided to pick up the $110 per month Airborne option. I was headed for Ft. Leonardwood, MO, aka “Lost in the Woods,” and he was headed for Ft. Jackson, SC. We were off in separate directions for better or worse.

My initiation into the military was quite painful. Specifically, the immunizations portion of the “assembly line” at Ft. Leonardwood’s reception battalion. I still recall the “peanut butter shot” in the buttocks. It practically brought me to my knees and nearly brought other men to tears. I remember thinking to myself, “I haven’t seen combat yet but I feel as though I have just been shot in the ass!”

Once I arrived at basic training, my stress level really flew through the roof. I couldn’t believe how much the drill sergeants expected us to do even though we were so sleep deprived. What also struck me were the sleeping conditions, steel bunks and itchy wool blankets. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like I had come from a wealthy family and was used to sleeping on fine Egyptian cotton sheets or anything. I guess I was more surprised at how “basic” basic training really was. My initial thoughts were, “What the heck have I done? I think I screwed up royally!” Fortunately, as the training progressed, the camaraderie between me and my “battle buddies” was taking shape and my perspective on life and responsibility was changing for the better. I started realizing that life in the Army depended on working as a unit – a team concept. I finally had a strong sense of belonging and purpose.

Surprisingly, about a year later, I saw my best friend again while attending Advanced Individual Training (AIT), the Army’s version of a vocational school. We compared notes and decided that joining the Army was a good move. We were both working in analytical fields and loving the new challenges.

Once AIT finished, I was headed off to Ft. Benning’s airborne school. I was back in a training environment and Sergeant Airborne was in my face. I thought jumping out of airplanes was a machismo thing to do -- television has a tendency to do that. Well it turned out to be much more dangerous and difficult than I had expected. The first thing I learned was the 5 points of contact for landing: 1) the balls of your feet, 2) the calf muscle, 3) the thigh muscle, 4) the buttocks, and 5) the pushup muscle. If you didn’t land properly then you would sometimes inadvertently use the 6th point of contact – your head – not recommended. My first jump was both exciting and terrifying. Once the parachute deployed, it was “knees to the breeze.” I earned my Airborne wings and was headed to my first permanent duty station, Ft. Drum, NY, home of the 10th Mountain Division (Light Infantry).

The first thing I noticed about Ft. Drum was how remote it was, all trees, snow and deer. Being from Yuma, AZ, it took a week or two for me to acclimate. Five months into my first permanent assignment, I boarded for sergeant and almost “maxed” the board. I was selected to attend Professional Leadership Development Course (PLDC) and was the distinguished honor graduate; that was a very proud moment for me and my family. I looked at the remaining years on my military contract with great optimism. When I got back from PLDC, I was selected to attend Air Assault training, which I gladly accepted. Air Assault training is a gentlemen’s course, much more demanding mentally than physically. This course was ALL about attention to detail and the cadre meant business. If you received 40 demerits, you were gone – no ifs, ands, or buts about it. On the very first day, I got 5 demerits. Why? The cadre asked us to raise our hands. My wristwatch was exposed from my Battle Dress Uniform (BDU) sleeve and we had been told to remove jewelry and wristwatches. Obviously, I missed that important detail. That was the first and last time I didn’t know what the heck was going on. I didn’t want to go back to my unit as a failure (aka “bolo”). I still remember going through the dry classroom lectures, hands-on and timed practicals, repelling from a 40-foot wooden wall and finally repelling from the real thing, a Blackhawk. It was an awesome way to finish Air Assault training.

After Air Assault, I returned to my unit only to find that they were deployed to the field. I packed my things and joined them. I was pleasantly surprised when my supervisor told me that the monthly promotion points were out and I had been selected as a sergeant. I had only been in the Army for 23 months and things seemed to be progressing quite smoothly. I had serious thoughts about applying for Officer Candidate School (OCS). My company’s executive officer (XO) was encouraging me to get it done soonest, and my battalion commander thought very highly of me. I knew his endorsement would be easy to obtain, so I thought great; I’m submitting an OCS packet.

Less than a month later, I got a bad case of reality shock. I had come down for orders, a one year unaccompanied tour, to Korea. I had heard some unfavorable things about Korea. Needless to say, I was not happy about it and neither was my family. I seriously contemplated signing a declination but I knew that would be a career killer and I did take an oath to serve. The best thing to do was head for Korea.

I arrived in Osan Air Base, South Korea via government air. We were bused to Yongsan Garrison for in-processing. I remember thinking, wow, Seoul, Korea, is a sprawling metropolis. It didn’t seem as bad as everyone said. In fact, it looked quite promising. A day later, I arrived at Camp Humphreys, which was my final destination. I had just gone through specialized training for this assignment and hoped to learn a lot. The mission was unique. It was a new system and I was part of a team which would help define its future.

The manning was supposed to be around 40 soldiers, but we only had 8 who were qualified to do the job. Remember when I said “Be all you can be.” Well, I learned to be all that I could be and a few more people to boot. The 8 of us had no choice but to do the work of 40! As the year progressed, we got more soldiers qualified and I was very optimistic that the workload would lessen. I soon found myself bogged down with additional duties such as squad leader, E5/E6 barracks sergeant, arms room sergeant, safety/energy monitor, Basic Rifle Marksmanship instructor, radar instructor, flight mission supervisor, and a number of other duties. But even with the heavy workload, the Korea experience was my most gratifying experience while in the military.

My final duty station was Ft. Bragg, NC, which is co-located with Pope AFB. By the way, the Air Force puts the “Air” in Army Airborne. I was now a member of the heralded 82^nd Airborne Division, the “All American” division. I was going to be a real paratrooper and wearing the division patch really gave me a sense of pride, a “can do” attitude. When I got there, the first thing given to me were “the keys to the drop zone,” which were hanging from a tent peg. I was told to guard them with my life. Obviously, I got a little suspicious. Something sounded fishy and my new fellow paratroopers seemed to be laughing under their breaths. Okay, I can take a joke and things were going to be fine. Life at Bragg was basically the field and jumping. I remember jumps being mostly conducted at nighttime or very early in the morning. I recall prepping for my first C-141 (a jet) jump at the 82^nd. I didn’t tighten my thigh straps very well, and I paid dearly for it. I exited the bird with a purpose and was immediately ripped from the body of the plane. That wasn’t the only thing being ripped. My groin area had pain I had never experienced before in my life. I think I could have broken glass with my squeal. I hit the ground and was barely able to walk off the drop zone. I was in terrible pain for a few days afterwards but it was a lesson learned. From then on, I never neglected to tighten those dang straps!

After honorably fulfilling my four year military contract, we grew tired of the unbelievable operational tempo and the family and I decided it was enough. I left the service and was offered a great opportunity as a civilian. I have to credit the Army for giving me the skills, confidence, and determination to take on a new career. Nine years later, I have earned a second technical degree, founded FreeAdLists.com and "My SysAd Blog," and I am currently the technical lead for a major corporation. I have to give credit where credit is due for these accomplishments -- My Family and the Army. Hooah!

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I recently had this story told to me so I claim no ownership of it.

Back in the 60's when the Army still had problems with racial issues a group of soldiers were preparing to leave Fort Dix on pass for the weekend.

That's right, on pass. I know most bases no longer use the pass system for leaving post but back when this story took place passes were still in use.

The MP at the gate was a hick southerner who felt it was his duty to harass any black soldier that passed through his gate. He let the white soldiers through but he kept giving the black soldier trouble.

Now, this black soldier was not an ignorant person. He was born in the south but he lived a good portion of his life in the north. Because of this he knew how to deal with ignorant racist folks.

After five minutes of this MP giving him a hard time about his pass he moved in real close. He did not touch him because that would be wrong. He did not threaten him with gestures either.

He simply got in real close to his face and said the following:

“I’ve got a mother in heaven, a father in hell and a girl in Harlem. I aim to see one of them tonight.”

He saw his girl that night.

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I would like to preface this by saying I have no idea where this was written because I can not decipher what "R's H" means in my notes. I know I was not yet in the Army at this time and I'm guessing the H means house. Other than that I have no clue.

It wasn’t the first time he had challenged the denizens of the sewers, and as each time before, he hoped it wouldn’t be his last. Unlike the previous expeditions he led, he went solo.

As he looked around, in the dim light of his lantern, he was trying to remember why he went solo this time. He hit himself on the head for his stupidity.

He could feel that never ending echo of dripping water almost beginning to drill its way into his brain. He trudged slowly onward into the gloom that was the sewers crawled in as he moved.

He trudged forward with one hand on his abdomen. He was trying to stop the blood from flowing out of him. He was beginning to feel very tired as he walked on. Then he fell to the ground and stopped moving.

After a few minutes he got up and looked around. As he reached for his lantern he received a very large shock. For, next to his lantern, lay his still body.

He yelled out loud but no noise came out of his mouth. He began to run away in fear and shock. Yet, at every corner, he would end up at the same place, looking down on his dead body.

As he lay there crying a cold wind began to blow through the sewers. He sat there like that for many days until a group of three city workers chanced upon his body. He tried to scream for them to help him but he only succeeded in frightening them away.

A few more days passed. He began to realize the full extent of his predicament. Unless his body was buried soon, and on hallowed ground, he wound end up a sewer spirit for ever. This scared him to no end. Then he saw a group of four approaching.

He recognized three of them as the city workers from a few days ago, the fourth was dressed as a priest. The priest drew forth his instruments and began to chant. He began to feel at peace, for a while. Then it hit him. He was dissolving.

This was no service for the dead but a banishment ritual designed to rid the sewers of foul spirits. He tried to fight it, to scare them off. It did not work.

He soon found himself in a bland blue realm, alone. There was no one near him and nothing to be seen in the distance. He had been banished, and now he was mad.

- end part 1 March 4, 1990 11:45 AM R’s H

If you liked this, leave a comment. If you did not like it, leave a comment. This work was transcribed with no editing at all. It is as it was written in my purple book.

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This past Mother's Day my daughter and I decided to get something different for her. We did not want to go the usual cards and flowers route so we looked around the Internet until we found an interesting store front that sold “fun tees and accessories for the stylish mother”.

The name of the site is Darling Mummy and they are based in Atlanta Georgia.

They have a nice selection of unique designs that you can have put on a t-shirt and they also sell a line of hoodies, hats and bags. They do not offer their t-shirt designs on their other products nor do they offer coffee cups. I think they are missing out on a good portion of the market by not offering coffee cups and mugs.

We decided to purchase my wife the "Frequent Flyer" design for her t-shirt. Not because she is a witch but because she is a huge fan of the Broadway musical Wicked.

The shirt came in quickly and I put it away for Mother's Day. Boy were we in for a bit of a shock Sunday morning!

Due to the extreme amount of orders we ended up getting a t-shirt with the "Mood Swing" design on it instead! I contacted the store owners via email and we quickly negotiated a satisfactory fix for this shipping problem. In a few days time the correct t-shirt arrived.

Let me take a minute to tell you that these t-shirts are high quality cotton (pre-shrunk) and very soft. The art is set high on the shirt and looks very good with a stylish vest on top (as my wife likes to wear them). These are not low quality print on demand products.

Even with the minor shipping mistakes I had I still would order more from them. If only I could convince them to put their t-shirt designs on coffee mugs!

My wife greatly enjoys her "Frequent Flyer" shirt and wears it proudly around town. She has also had many mothers ask her where she got it from. Well, now you know where she got it from.

We are two Atlanta mamas who became fast friends when our children started Kindergarten together. Darling Mummy emerged from our girly-gripe sessions on the difficulty of finding appropriate clothes for our child-centered lifestyle. Everything we found seemed to be too low-cut, too short to hide our stretch marks or too sparkly for our station-wagon lives. Why, we wondered, was nobody catering to the spunky mommies out there who refused to sacrifice their sense of style or humor for motherhood? At one point, we decided to stop the fashion pity party and define our own brand of "carpool couture". So...here we are with a goal to provide stylish mothers like you with fun, yet practical, items for your casual wardrobe.

Source – Darling Mummy about us page

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After a long wait I have been given permission to re-publish the works of the great and mysterious ninja known as Galanor. His works are not for everyone but I enjoy them. I hope you enjoy them too!

So now what you've all been waiting for. The ultimate tale of ninjas. First, let me get this off my chest. Why do all of you guys attack my posts on other threads? Then the board moderator sends me an email to knock it off. I'm just expressing my enthusiasm for a wholly awesome character class that deserves more attention than some may rightfully give him. The ninja, of course. It's a good thing I'm confident in my ninja skill or I'd get upset. I've mastered the ability to meditate long an hard before flipping out. And while my purpose as a ninja, still remains. I'm at whole other level of mastery that you cannot fathom.

Anyway, this story is for the fans. Those of you who dream to be ninjas. I'm here to tell you it can be done. I did it. I was only 10. Now you can to. First you need to role-play more than seek out a master. I found him and his name was Marvin. It took me weeks to get him to open up but he did. And I'm better for it. Man, I could go on and on about my skills but I won't. So sit back an enjoy my tale.

OK, we were playing Dungeons and Dragons, the role-playing game. That's a game where you get the chance to create characters with dice and use mathematical precision to recreate reality within the confines of a game. A lot of people claim you pretend to be someone else. But if you do it right, you get to live out your life as someone else. It's liberating especially if you aren't a ninja. So anyway, now that you get what a role-playing game is, I'll tell you what we did.

We had three players and a Dungeon Master, that's the guy who runs the game and tells you what to think and when. He's like B.A. in the Knights. So Barry was playing a halfling paladin (Hal), Tad was playing a Half-ogre/half-dragon wizard (Saijin), and I was a Wemic ninja-barbarian named Wedgie. We were hired by a band of knights to save the kingdom from an invading force. We were three but we had cool stuff. The paladin had the holy armor of righteous vengeance. Saijin had a Staff of the Magi, and I had two powerful magical katanas. This was your typical D&D game. Lots of explosions, winged gorillas, and singing vampires. So we found the castle and I was sent in to scout it out.

Being the ninja, I hoped over some guards, took them out, and climbed up the walls covered in fish fat. I set the fat on fire and snuck up through the sewer grate by the moat. I jumped over some pits and got skewered by a spiked roof. But luckily I had potions of healing inside my katanas. So I was ok. The other guys were getting bored to Saijin shoots a fireball at the front gate and blew up the wall. Hal goes marching in and nothing could hurt him. This created enough of a distraction for me that I was allowed to move in the castle unnoticed. That was until I found the Fairy Lich drinking a goblet of mule bile. I easily beat his guards with my katanas. I tell him to surrender because I'm the greatest wemic ninja ever to have walked the realms. The fairy Lich laughed <at me> and ordered me to surrender. He said he had a place for me if I decided to serve him. We could gain power and rule the world. I told him I was an honorable ninja raised in the ways of of my clan to serve our original employers. I told him that if he had hired me first, I could have served him. But now it was to late.

I then jumped across the room and sliced my sword across his wings. I rolled a twenty twice. The wings flew up in the air and I slammed them into his throat. Since he was a Lich, he choked on his wings and exploded. Hal and Saijin finally made into the inner chamber. I told them I beat the fairy lich. They got mad because I fought him without them and they wouldn't get the experience. As a result of the fight, I jumped up about 5 levels one swoop. They complained and screamed that it wasn't fair and said I should have waited. I was an honorable ninja that didn't take kindly to someone questioning my methods. So I took them both out. The lesson learned was don't mess with the Wemic Ninja. I retired Wedgie after several games. He became the god of ninjas when I stopped playing.

If you want to learn more about wedgie, I'll keep telling you stories. Just let me know.

LATOR.

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I'm gonna be writing stream of consciousness, so please forgive me if my verb tenses don't always agree.

So I had this client referred by the Public Defender's Office. His name was Robert Dale Hicks. He was charged with Robbery 1 and P.F.O. 1 (Persistent Felony Offender in the First Degree), an enhancement charge in KY that's kind of similar to a "three-strikes" law. Robert was looking at 20 to life.

Robert was in a wheel chair when I first visited him in jail. I thought, "That might be good. He couldn't have been Robber-like in a wheelchair." So Robert starts telling me his tale of woe and says confidently that they can't identify him because he has a beard now but the description of the defendant they caught didn't have a beard. I said, "Well, do you think they might figure that you grew a beard at some point in the two years you've been awaiting trial?" He considered and then started yelling that I was an idiot.

So while he was yakkin' I was reading through the discovery. I said, "It says here that you left the Sav-A-Step in a lime green '74 Plymouth Duster. Is it possible that the cops id'd someone else's lime green Duster?" He said it was a distinct possibility, given the number of Dusters on the road in 2001.

Robert didn't want to plead. I told him that I thought he would be found guilty. He told me that I sucked and he wanted to have his trial. There was a security video the prosecutor showed at trial that showed a guy limping into the Sav-A-Step on two canes trying to hold a handgun in one hand. Robert's wife was working there that day. Robert took her and the manager in the back where he asked the manager to sack up the money. While he was guarding them, Robert dropped the gun. The manager picked it up and gave it back. He said at trial that he learned that in a loss prevention seminar. Robert left in his Duster and was stopped at a light when he saw a cop with his lights flashing responding to the scene. The cop looked at Robert and Robert tore off through the red light, smashing into a car and leaving part of his Duster behind. The cop chased him into the projects, lost him, but found the Duster because he had retrieved the piece of Duster left behind and he matched it to the one Robert parked in his parking lot. The cop went around to apartments, found Robert's, was allowed into the apartment by Robert's father, and found Robert under the bed.

Robert was in a wheelchair because he tried to escape from jail once by rapelling from the roof with a rope he made from tied together bedsheets. The sheets tore apart and Robert fell four stories and broke his back.

Now, there was no doubt that Robert would be found guilty, so my guard slipped a little and I let a bad question pass my lips when I was crossing his wife. I asked, "How long has Robert been disabled?" I knew as soon as the last word left my mouth that I should have phrased it "Please tell me the date on which Robert became disabled.", but it was too late. She said, "Ever since he broke his back trying to escape from jail."

During Robert's testimony he told us about how he couldn't have done a robbery because he was too disabled. In fact, he said that he was paralyzed from the waist down and had to have a catheter and colostomy bag. The he pulled out his catheter on the stand. I said, "Please put that away Robert."

The jury was sequestered right before lunch. The trial had lasted four days. Many people asked me how long I thought they'd be out. I said that I heard the judge order lunch and so I thought they'd at least eat lunch. I was wrong. They were back in ten minutes. Robert eventually got 25 years.

A couple of other bits: When the cop found Robert under the bed, he found the gun on top of the bed. During his wife's testimony, the prosecutor meant to show that the two were working together and so he asked a lot of questions about the gun. It turned out that they kept that gun on the top shelf of their closet. The prosecutor asked whether she had seen the gun that day before she left for work at the Sav-A-Step. She said, "Oh you know how it is Joe Gutman (prosecutor's name), we had just made love and you know how it is when you're layin' with your man and then you bring down the gun and start playin' with it." Everybody was just staring at her, and you could've heard a pin drop.

Kinda unrelated - it also came up during her testimony that she was married to someone else at the same time she was married to Robert. She thought she had diovorced the previous husband by signing a form at the county clerk's office.

This post was written by guest writer Joe the Lawyer. Yes, Joe is a real lawyer.

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Every parent has to deal with it, being stuck at home with a sick child. Yesterday it was my turn.

My daughter stayed home from school yesterday because she was sick and running a fever. This was my one weekday off for the month and I was looking forward to spending some time with my wife while my daughter was at school. So much for that idea!

We knew she was sick Sunday evening so it was not a big surprise in the morning when we decided to keep her home. I got a short break to do some grocery shopping and then I came back home.

My wife then got her turn away from the house to get some things done, this is when the horror started.

"Daddy!"
"Yes?"
"I'm bored."
"Well, read a book or watch TV."
"I don't want to, I want you to entertain me!"

Entertaining my daughter often involves doing things that my aging body no longer wants to do. It's not that she wants to beat me with a stick or anything rough like that it's just that she wants me to do things that cause pain when done for long periods of time (mental or physical).

For example, we made a fort out of chairs and blankets. This on its own is fine. The back breaking part is making me scrunch up and sit in this fort at an awkward angle. We did this for about twenty minutes before I had to get out and stretch.

We then moved on to her picking a game for me to play on the Wii while she watched. Now, you know I'm a big Wii fan but, it's not nearly as much fun when someone is sitting next to you complaining about how you play or which game you are playing. I can only play so much Super Swing Golf in a day before even I get tired of it. Besides that level two Scout character just keeps beating me!!!

Then we went back into the fort to play Game Cube! It would not have been so bad except the TV was too high and I had to strain my neck to play the game from within the confines of the fort.

Eventually my wife came home and rescued me for a while. It was only for a while though as she had to go back out and run the brownies meeting. The same meeting my daughter would have gone to if she were not sick.

So, after she left I had to go back to being the entertainer.

Eventually my daughter went to sleep and I sat down to watch some TV. Now it's my turn to be entertained!

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