I can't take you anywhere...

There are those times as a parent when you wonder just where in the hell you went wrong.  If I had a dollar for every time either Karla or myself told our hooligans "I thought I raised you better" I would be sitting on a beach right now enjoying my early retirement......

Well, ok, it's not that bad --- it just feels that way sometimes.

This week, for instance, I took Toby and Tera to the eye doctor for a routine checkup. Not big deal, right?  We'd be in and out in no time.

We approached the front desk where three women were there to greet us with a pleasant, business etiquette like smile.

"Can we help you?" the older lady asks.

"Yes, Tera and Toby have 1:40 and 2 o'clock appointments."

"Ok, do you have your medical card with you?" asks the younger lady.

"Yes" I say as I'm handed a form to sign.......and that's when the routine checkup morphed into every parents nightmare.

Number one son detonated one, maybe even two, methane grenades and quietly walked away to the back of the waiting room, leaving Tera, myself, and the receptionists encircled in a noxious cloud of death.  It was the perfect hit and run attack.  The execution was flawless; no one suspected a thing.  He must have trained for years to pull off this attack with such barbaric and heartless precision.

Had I control of all my faculties I would have simply taken the form to another part of the waiting room and escaped this horrible incident.  I may have even been fortunate enough to come away with only slightly burnt lungs.

But a well placed ninja fart can render the human brain almost useless as it shuts down all unnecessary activities (like walking) and goes into survival mode.

I glance at the older lady whose brain had also went into survival mode.  She stares wide eyed at the computer monitor sitting before her, desperate not to make eye contact, and acting as if there was something really interesting going on. I swear if she stared at the monitor any harder she could burn a hole through it.  Her breathing had become quick and shallow as she attempted to inhale as little of the putrid butt smoke as possible.  I would have not been surprised in the least if she were to pass out.

The corners of her mouth were curled down so bad that it almost looked as if she were the unfortunate recipient of a botched face lift......She continued to resist the urge to make any kind of eye contact with me whatsoever.  As far as she was concerned, I did not exist.

The younger lady then walk over to hand me my medical card; and her timing couldn't have been worse. She had arrived just as the death cloud was at the height of it's toxic splendor.  She stopped dead in her tracks and her eyes watered a little before glazing over into a zombie like stare.  Her mouth opened slightly as she slowly began to (incorrectly) comprehend that she had been poisoned by the man standing at the front desk.  It was simply awful.

I have no idea what happened to the third receptionist....I fear she may have disintegrated.

At this moment, when all the world seems to be spinning chaotically out of control, is where etiquette comes in to play its part.......

The first rule of farting in public is......don't fart in public.  Excuse yourself if you have to but do not, under any circumstances, do anything that will wrinkle a stranger's nose.

It was dark and over cast on this day....The wind was blowing at a high rate of speed.  Toby could have simply walked outside and released the beast to roam about freely in the open spaces of the outside world.  No one had to know a thing.

But my son is a teenage boy.....I don't think I need to say anymore.

Sooooo.....

Since Toby had forgotten about rule one, this golden nugget of valuable information, I was forced to go to rule number two when it comes to farting in public.....Act like it never happened.

I have no idea what the form I was handed said.  It could have been a paper giving the employees of this fine facility permission to draw and quarter me.

But at that moment I didn't care.  I just want to sign the paper and slink into the back of the waiting room so that I could smack the shit out of my son.

Continuing with rule number two I acted as if all was right with the world and started to sign the paper.

Tera, on the other hand, must not have been told about rule number two.

"WHOA!!!!!  DO YOU SMELL THAT?  WAS THAT YOU?  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

I lean over and whisper, "Tera, quit."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA......THAT'S TERRIBLE......HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"

Tera couldn't stop laughing and, moments later, Toby starts to chuckle.....

Man.....Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?

The receptionists were not impressed.  I finished signing the paper and walked away sincerely hoping that a safe would fall on me or that perhaps the starship Enterprise would just happen to fly over and beam me up and away from this rancid hell.

The rest of the appointment?  I have no idea........


Sigh......Where did I go wrong?

I suppose the silver lining to raising barbarians is that I have no shortage of blog material.

Now, if you would kindly excuse me, I desperately need to brush my teeth.....Blech.