Will this be cash or credit?

After seeing my second little girl born and waking from a nap, I had to run out and get some lunch. I drove around for ten minutes perousing Richmond Road and finally decided on KFC. Something about watching a 4 week early baby being born just screams chicken for lunch.

I pull up to the voicebox thing in front of the menu board and wait, a few minutes pass before a deep accented voice says "Welcome to Kentucky Fried Chicken, How may I help you?" I placed my order and pulled around to the window. The clerk asks me "Will that be cash or credit sir?" I think to myself...who asks that anymore? I mean who actually carries cash anymore? I use a debit card for 99% of all my purchases but I hand him my Visa card. After a few swipes he turns and says, sorry, the card will not swipe. I give him my Platnium Mastercard, and he tries again. "Sorry sir, no swipe." I ask if they cannot manually enter the numbers in to a response of "No." I finally said I have one more card and that's it. I gave him my Professional Rewards Debit Card and get my food. I get back to the hospital and enjoy my chicken wings and macaroni. This makes me think...Do people actually still carry cash or am I just to trusting of the banks to process all my purchases. It definitely would be embarassing to be standing in line at Krogers with a pack of maxi pads for your wife and due to some electronic glitch that your bank card gets declined even though you just checked your bank account and know that there is plenty of cash available. Anywho, maybe I should start carrying cash especially in these troubled economic times.

A pack of diapers-$25.99

Infant outfit-$19.99

Dark solid wood baby furniture set from Baby's Room-$1300

Being the first one to get your newborn daughter to eat and burp-PRICELESS

There's some things money can't buy!

For everything else, there's Mastercard!

There's no such thing as rest with a new home.

So we have settled quietly in the home of our dreams here on the quiet hill and cul-de-sac of Spendthrift Court. After frantically moving from house one to house two in a matter of 2 days amidst a thunderstorm...with a pitstop at the in-laws and getting the moving truck stuck in the street (literally stuck in the street...hitch buried in the asphalt), we are finally here. The home of homes, the place where I shall spend the rest of my life, the garden of Eden to which I shall make my own...with my Eve by my side...thank goodness for no apple trees. I have made a promise, a vow, a guarantee....I will never move again. I told my wife that even if we get divorced, I am not moving. There's a huge workshop with heat that I can reside in....it has heat for winter, it has windows for summer, and best of all, there's electricity. I shall call it 3404 1/2 Spendthrift Court. I have weeded, I have mowed, I have mulched, and I have painted. I will mow again for the 4th time in a month and a half since moving in. Who would've thought that buying a house was so much work. After I mow, I have to install the dog septic tank...why you ask...because I want to preserve the beauty of my new home's yard....also to keep the brown one from eating her own feces. We are also expecting our little girl in early September...my wife's first, my second. The nursery is painted and decorated....thanks to GJ and AC for the hard labor and funding by BP....I'm tired so I have resorted to abbreviations. GJ-Grandma Jane, AC- Aunt Carrie, and BP-Big Papi. We took our first leisurely walk through the neighborhood and have found that these people actually landscape and keep their yards and houses looking nice. Long are the days of sewage stench and medical waste strewn across my back yard. I almost feel bad for the people that bought our old house....on second thought...screw them, they beat us down on the price when they knew they were getting $8000 back at the end of the year. Ha...we got the last laugh, surely the waste treatment facility has overflown again while they sit in there sewage filled yard savoring their huge savings....newbies. We are old and wise...so what that we overpaid for our house but like my wife said, a house's value is only worth what someone is willing to pay...well, we were willing to pay....and now for another 30 years of bliss and huge mortage payment, we live in our dreams and hope that when it's paid for, it's still worth half as much. until then, I'll continue to mow, and weed, and paint, and mulch...until the days that I become old and feeble, filled with dementia....hopefully my kids will remember me even though I won't even remember where the bathroom is. Buying a house...It's everyone's dream!!

Uncomfortable?...in a hospital?

Recently, my wife had been admitted to the hospital for what possibly could be a kidney infection. Possibly? Does anyone think maybe that at $500 a night plus meds that we could possibly get a better idea than possibly. She checked in Thursday morning. My wife tells me I am due for my medication again at 8:00 pm and as 8:35 pm rolls around, a new nurse comes on board and checks in. My wife says, "Do I get anymore medicine", to which the nurse responds, "I didn't know you were due for any medication, I'll go get them." She pauses and says, "What are you supposed to get?" REALLY? When is it the patients responsibility to keep track of the medication that the doctor prescribes and is it maybe important or urgent for patients to get their medication ON TIME? Thursday ends without any improvement and as Friday rolls around, my wife realizes that she did not get anything to eat nor was she asked if she wanted anything to eat. She finally decides to ask the nurse if she is going to be fed at 11:00 am on Friday. The nurse responds, "They haven't brought you anything to eat?" Apparently they forgot about my wife downstairs....wherever that magical place may be....the elves that make the food for the hospital patients. I think maybe a class to teach hospital workers skills in communication should be a prerequisite. Anyways, I want to get back to the whole idea of the doctors not knowing for sure what is wrong. That makes me very uncomfortable. Doctors are paid hundreds of thousand of dollars a year to know what's wrong. I have always been strong in science but I sometime find that the medical field is more of a hopeful guessing game than a science. I stand behind my strong belief that there are only 2 reasons to be in a hospital....BIRTH and HORRIBLE PAIN IF NOT DEATH!

P.s. I apologize to my friends and family who work in the medical field and I am sure that you guys do a wonderful job....I am just frustrated because I am spending the nights at home alone in a giant house while my wife is in pain while doctors only check on her once every 24 hours.

Real estate crisis?....I think NOT!

Another week has rolled by as our house remains in a pending sold status. Another week rolls by as I sit here on our couch surrounded by brown cardboard boxes stuffed with our worldly possessions. Another week rolls by as our dogs tippy toe around everything in our house in an attempt to get to their chairs. My wife questioned last night if there really was a real estate crisis and who really was responsible for it....the banks?...the borrowers?...maybe aliens from outer space? As I sit dreaming that we will be in our dream home this week, I wonder what the mortgage guy is doing. Maybe he is doing his job, maybe he's drinking coffee, maybe he's on the phone telling someone elses real estate agent they should cool their jets. Maybe he should realize that my wife and I are here ready to buy an outrageously expensive house that only this experience will make me wish and hope that I die there and not have to relive this nightmare again. I only wish that I can get this guys name so I can flatten his tires and leave a business card on his windshield. Or, maybe I could call SHADOW HARE to aid me in my beckoning for help. But seriously, sometimes you wonder if the obvious cause is the real cause!

Date night or the future of the free world?

Is it really necessary to notify everyone in America that the Obamas had date night? It must be wonderful to have your own private room at some fancy schmancy French restaurant. It must be nice to have 72 hour short ribs and a lobster bisque sandwich for dinner but wait....someone must taste the food before it can be consumed. Mr. Obama....or should I say President Obama, what about the country. I don't disagree that with all your responsibilities of running a country that sometimes you and Michelle could use a break...especially since she can be proud of being an American now only since you've been elected...but do we really need to be notified of how wonderful your life is while we sit here wondering if our bank will shut down next or will I have a job next week. You enjoy 72 hour short ribs while I eat my chinese lunch special...all the while...People like my mother raise 3 kids, make a car payment, and pay the mortage on 32 hours of pay. I guess it's good to be the king...ahem...I mean the president.

No offense but......

I welcome everyone to my new pastime...blogging. I have always found anything involving thinking and writing to be agonizingly painful but lately, it's more painful to just sit here and watch as society and life crumbles to the ground. I figured I would get my shots in too. I apologize in advance to those who find my ranting and whining offensive...but I maintain my stance....TOO BAD, IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT!!!...I tell it as I see it, and I spell it as I read it...whatever that means. I'm pretty sure this is my 1st amendment right. Feel free to correct me only if you have facts in line otherwise, sit back and wonder in your own chair at your own home.