Hello Friends,
As always, it's been too long.
I can always tell it's time for me to post because of 2 things.
1) I feel like I haven't told enough stories.
2) Someone tells me.
In this case not one but two people have said it's past time I posted.
I'm nothing if not a man of the people. And you have spoken
Let's go.
In case you're all wondering my new record for letters stuck to my daughters back during bath time is 7. It doesn't sound that impressive until this. Tonight I got one stuck right on her dang forehead. I'm not sure if it counts though because I was able to distract her by trying to get her to say the word Mississippi.
Today I also helped my Dad take down an antenna from my house and install it in his. You're thinking this is mundane, but it's not. I'll be happy to tell you why.
During the process we were forced to use those battery operated screwdrivers/drills. Since my Dad collects batteries (kind of like how my sister (I mean Ryan) collects flashlights), every single battery he owns has about 4 seconds of juice left.
But my Dad doesn't say juice. He says gas. Except when he says gas it sounds like the "g" in gas is silent, so it sounds like a cuss word.
Which obviously I took immense joy in thinking my Dad was cussing the whole time.
Don't worry though, he quickly proved just how much more manly he is when he had to basically hold my hand (and feet) getting down a ladder.
If you didn't know I don't do good with ladder's, or roof's, or anything more than 4 feet off the ground.
True story. Today, when we were on the roof, I told my Dad I would go down and grab something we needed. He probably thought I was being helpful when in fact I was just trying to use the opportunity to make him not see how dang much I hate getting down ladder's.
Well I tried, and tried, for about 15 minutes and couldn't get down so in typical 2 year old fashion (complete with wet pants that smelled like pee) I told him I was scared.
Before that I legit thought about jumping. My rationale? There was a bush. It would have broken my 18 foot fall.
The moral of the story though is I guess you never stop being a Dad. As soon as he saw my bottom lip quivering he snaps too and says he'll go down first and guide me down.
Don't know if I'm more embarrassed at my lack of pure Man-Ly-Ness or more loving Pops.
I also learned this today. It's not my fault that no matter what job I tackle the second I set down a tool it is lost.
No, that is a Decker thing.
I can't tell you how many jobs have taken twice as long because I can't find the wrench I just set down. Even though my Dad rocks I clearly learned that from him.
We seriously spent 30 minutes looking for a drill today. It was eventually found with magic (retracing my steps for the 4th time).
2 other quick stories and then I'm out.
When we moved into the new house we had this wood post out front that had a wire attached to it. Honestly I questioned why anyone would install a dog shock fence around here but thought whatever.
So I dug it out of the ground. I even went as far as to pull the wire attached to the post as far out as I could, and when I couldn't pull anymore clipped the wire and covered it with dirt.
That post my friends was not in fact a dog fence. It was my water meter.
I believe that bill should be fun to pay.
Lastly, since I've gained so much experience anonymously roasting dudes on the internet I'm honestly giving serious thought to roasting another.
If you didn't know we recently sold the red tick tack (Versa) and bought a Durango. I'm still hoping we got a decent deal on the whole thing but in pure Decker averages the day after we bought it we couldn't get it to start.
Even with my limited car knowledge I knew it wasn't the battery or the starter. If we could jam the thing up into park it would start...until that stopped working.
We learned that the hard way with Anna stuck 45 minutes away unable to start the thing. Luckily her Dad was able to save the day by recommending she try and start it in Neutral.
I also need to save face by saying the only reason I didn't suggest the same thing is I was enjoying my alone time (AKA, I know nothing about cars).
Anyways, the neutral trick kept on working, but I also knew that it needed to get fixed soon with the upcoming Anna to Montana trip. I decided I'd shoot a quick email over to the dude who we bought it from.
Reason #1 why I' thinking about roasting his "gas".
He sold us the car with "nothing needed". His quotes, not mine.
Word for word my email was this.
"Hey man, do you have any tricks you can send my way to get the Durango started? I know the problem is that the car doesn't think it's all the way in park. Sometimes when we get it jammed up in park it starts, otherwise we have to wiggle it into neutral.
Word for word he wrote back.
"Make sure it's in park".
Reason #2 why I'm thinking about roasting his "gas".
I specifically asked him how the tires were.
Now I know this is probably more my fault than his but I'm not a tire mechanic. I can't tell by looking at a tire how close it is to being needed replaced.
What I can tell is that the Durango more closely resembled a 6000 pound sled than a truck. That and the recommendation that if I don't get new tires before the snow I'm going to kill someone.
So yeah, also had to pay for that.
Are you listening Greg? Don't make it 3. Don't make me Boom Roast your "gas" and use your last name.
As always, it's been too long.
I can always tell it's time for me to post because of 2 things.
1) I feel like I haven't told enough stories.
2) Someone tells me.
In this case not one but two people have said it's past time I posted.
I'm nothing if not a man of the people. And you have spoken
Let's go.
In case you're all wondering my new record for letters stuck to my daughters back during bath time is 7. It doesn't sound that impressive until this. Tonight I got one stuck right on her dang forehead. I'm not sure if it counts though because I was able to distract her by trying to get her to say the word Mississippi.
Today I also helped my Dad take down an antenna from my house and install it in his. You're thinking this is mundane, but it's not. I'll be happy to tell you why.
During the process we were forced to use those battery operated screwdrivers/drills. Since my Dad collects batteries (kind of like how my sister (I mean Ryan) collects flashlights), every single battery he owns has about 4 seconds of juice left.
But my Dad doesn't say juice. He says gas. Except when he says gas it sounds like the "g" in gas is silent, so it sounds like a cuss word.
Which obviously I took immense joy in thinking my Dad was cussing the whole time.
Don't worry though, he quickly proved just how much more manly he is when he had to basically hold my hand (and feet) getting down a ladder.
If you didn't know I don't do good with ladder's, or roof's, or anything more than 4 feet off the ground.
True story. Today, when we were on the roof, I told my Dad I would go down and grab something we needed. He probably thought I was being helpful when in fact I was just trying to use the opportunity to make him not see how dang much I hate getting down ladder's.
Well I tried, and tried, for about 15 minutes and couldn't get down so in typical 2 year old fashion (complete with wet pants that smelled like pee) I told him I was scared.
Before that I legit thought about jumping. My rationale? There was a bush. It would have broken my 18 foot fall.
The moral of the story though is I guess you never stop being a Dad. As soon as he saw my bottom lip quivering he snaps too and says he'll go down first and guide me down.
Don't know if I'm more embarrassed at my lack of pure Man-Ly-Ness or more loving Pops.
I also learned this today. It's not my fault that no matter what job I tackle the second I set down a tool it is lost.
No, that is a Decker thing.
I can't tell you how many jobs have taken twice as long because I can't find the wrench I just set down. Even though my Dad rocks I clearly learned that from him.
We seriously spent 30 minutes looking for a drill today. It was eventually found with magic (retracing my steps for the 4th time).
2 other quick stories and then I'm out.
When we moved into the new house we had this wood post out front that had a wire attached to it. Honestly I questioned why anyone would install a dog shock fence around here but thought whatever.
So I dug it out of the ground. I even went as far as to pull the wire attached to the post as far out as I could, and when I couldn't pull anymore clipped the wire and covered it with dirt.
That post my friends was not in fact a dog fence. It was my water meter.
I believe that bill should be fun to pay.
Lastly, since I've gained so much experience anonymously roasting dudes on the internet I'm honestly giving serious thought to roasting another.
If you didn't know we recently sold the red tick tack (Versa) and bought a Durango. I'm still hoping we got a decent deal on the whole thing but in pure Decker averages the day after we bought it we couldn't get it to start.
Even with my limited car knowledge I knew it wasn't the battery or the starter. If we could jam the thing up into park it would start...until that stopped working.
We learned that the hard way with Anna stuck 45 minutes away unable to start the thing. Luckily her Dad was able to save the day by recommending she try and start it in Neutral.
I also need to save face by saying the only reason I didn't suggest the same thing is I was enjoying my alone time (AKA, I know nothing about cars).
Anyways, the neutral trick kept on working, but I also knew that it needed to get fixed soon with the upcoming Anna to Montana trip. I decided I'd shoot a quick email over to the dude who we bought it from.
Reason #1 why I' thinking about roasting his "gas".
He sold us the car with "nothing needed". His quotes, not mine.
Word for word my email was this.
"Hey man, do you have any tricks you can send my way to get the Durango started? I know the problem is that the car doesn't think it's all the way in park. Sometimes when we get it jammed up in park it starts, otherwise we have to wiggle it into neutral.
Word for word he wrote back.
"Make sure it's in park".
Reason #2 why I'm thinking about roasting his "gas".
I specifically asked him how the tires were.
Now I know this is probably more my fault than his but I'm not a tire mechanic. I can't tell by looking at a tire how close it is to being needed replaced.
What I can tell is that the Durango more closely resembled a 6000 pound sled than a truck. That and the recommendation that if I don't get new tires before the snow I'm going to kill someone.
So yeah, also had to pay for that.
Are you listening Greg? Don't make it 3. Don't make me Boom Roast your "gas" and use your last name.
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