Family, friends, and acquaintances sometimes ask me where the blog title comes from. Two main contributors are a unregulated motor mouth and damn the consequences, full speed ahead, approach to life. Age hasn’t tempered either to any noticeable degree.
The imminent birth of another grandson, eagerly and joyfully welcomed, brings to mind a past episode that probably should not be repeated.
When middle son was born, I was able to watch the delivery. Soon after, my parents came to see the new arrival. The two mothers were in the bedroom (wrong, they were in the kitchen) and the two fathers in the family room. My father, with genuine interest, asked me to describe the birth experience. After some thought I said to my ranch raised father, “Well Dad, it wasn’t much different that pulling a calf.” As he pondered and shook his head in understanding, an explosion erupted in the adjacent kitchen. Two very agitated and vocal women proceeded to verbally flay the hell out of us.
“Son”, my father said, “I know they don’t have bars in this state, but is there somewhere we can go get a beer”?
Hopefully, my daughter-in-law, who I really like, will understand.