The Livin’ On E Lifestyle

Dear Diary …

When it comes to life … I like to be prepared. Now obviously you can’t be ready for every single curveball life throws at you, but I want to at least set myself up for success on a daily basis by being prepared with the basic details.

And that is why I absolutely do not understand why so many people insist on being a part of the “Livin’ on E Lifestyle.” Everything in their life is empty. And I don’t mean their life has no meaning … I just mean that all their day to day stuff … gas tanks, cell phone batteries, drink containers … they’re all on E. All … the … time.

My co-worker … KT of the Midday Program … spends her entire life tethered to the two foot long cord of her cell phone charger, because “my phone is on like 6% and is about to die.” All day long. Doesn’t matter the time of day … morning, noon, night … that phone is seemingly always on 6%. How does that even happen? Just charge the thing overnight, and be ready to tackle the day on 100%. And even if you use the thing like crazy … just plug it in again … especially if you know you’re going out later, and you should never have an issue.

And let’s not forget you people that LOVE to roll around town with your gas tank on E. “Oh I think I have enough gas to make it to work and back.” … Why are you even doing that? Not to mention the fact that you’re driving past gas station after gas station. “Oh but I can probably make it to the next one.” Again … why? They got better gas there or something?

It’s as if you think “Amount of Times I Pushed It With My Gas Tank” is one of the qualifying factors Jesus judges you on when you get to heaven. “Well … you didn’t exactly lead a great life … but I see here you did manage to push it to the next gas station 247 times. Come on in! Welcome to heaven!”

And the refrigerator … if there’s a drink in there with a tiny swig in it … would you just finish the dang thing off and buy some more? Sometimes I’ll call my wife … Hey I’m running by the store today … we need milk?

“Nah. We’re good till tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? Well now I’m just gonna have to go to the store again tomorrow … and I don’t want to if I don’t have to! Just replace the milk! No need be pimpin’ the “Livin’ on E Lifestyle.”

OK … moving on Diary … what is the point of some of the questions we get asked, when the answer doesn’t even matter? For example …

When I use our email server at work, and I log in, it’s says “keep me logged in” with a little box next to it. OK cool … I don’t feel like having to type in my stuff every single time … Yes please … Keep me logged in.

And what happens every time I come back later? I’m logged out.

Why are we even doing this song and dance? You don’t wanna keep me logged in? Fine. But don’t even give me the option in the first place.

Don’t even ask the question if the answer doesn’t matter. Like when my wife asks me for advice, I give it, and then she just does whatever advice her mother gives her. Why ya even asking me? Just save the time and go right to the real source!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

The Pickiest of Picky Eaters

Dear Diary …

Picky eaters. I just can’t.

What happened here anyway? What makes God decide he’s gonna create one human with a well-rounded palate  … who can eat and enjoy all the great foods of the world … and then the next person … chicken tender boy.

My daughter is person #1 … she’ll eat just about anything. It’s great.

My son is person #2 … the most annoying palate on the planet. And he takes it one step further, because somehow he manages to have magical powers when it comes to food. And what I mean by this, Diary, is that he can declare that he doesn’t like the taste of something before he even puts it in his mouth. Yup … food never touches his lips, but somehow the Great Houdini already knows it tastes bad.

This weekend we make the kids some muffins. Now in the past when we make muffins, my son basically just eats the powdered sugar off the top and then leaves the rest of delicious muffin to waste away into the sadness of the trashcan. But this time I think I have the answer!

He says he wants cinnamon muffins, so I buy these ones that are like a cinnamon swirl … so they have the crumbly sugary awesomeness on the top that every five year old wants to eat, but also the same deliciousness is swirled in and around the entire muffin. This is perfect … Now he gets his favorite diabetes-laden part swirled all throughout the muffin!

So I pull them out of the oven and they look fantastic. OK … at least I think they look fantastic, because Mr. Stink Face tells a different story. Tappin’ his tiny little judgemental finger on the top of the muffin … “These look different than the other muffins.”

Yes … they look different because they ARE different. This has more of all the things you like. So it’s different, but it’s better.

“I don’t like them.”

You haven’t even tried them.

“They taste funny.”

YOU HAVEN’T EVEN TAKEN A BITE!!! How would you know they taste funny???

Picky eating is one thing … I can work with that. Jerky eating is another.

One night I can give that kid a meal and he’ll eat the whole thing. Next time I serve the exact same meal … “I don’t like this” … YOU LOVED IT THE LAST TIME I MADE IT AND IT’S EXACTLY THE SAME!!!

I think he’s just messing with me. I leave the house and he probably makes himself a giant kale salad to eat when nobody’s watching, that way when I get home he’s full and can freely screw with my head for his own torturous enjoyment.

And how dumb are we as parents where we sit here and try to get them to eat food that isn’t even that good for them? I can’t believe I now say things like “You need to eat two more bites of pizza, and then you can have dessert.”

That right son, please take two more bites of your non-nutritious dinner so I can then reward you with an equally non-nutritious dessert.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again … we need to change the way we try to get information from terrorists. We don’t need to physically torture them anymore. Just force them to deal with a difficult five year old for one day and they’ll be singing to the rooftops with all the information you could possibly want.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.