The Fountain of Youth Is All-You-Can-Eat!

I found the fountain of youth!!! (Sort of.)

Age advances on all of us. We can't help it. It's like the song* says, "You're older than you've ever been. And now, you're even older." (*"Older" by They Might Be Giants) No matter how hard we fight it, we're all going to get older.

But, there are ways we can make it seem like we aren't getting old. We can eat healthy and exercise. We can act immature. (I'm good at that one.) We can use the hip, cool slang words that today's youth are using, like "bae," "woke," or "jiggy." Or, we can do what I did yesterday: go to the all-you-can-eat buffet in the middle of the day. (It was like stepping into the fountain of youth!)

My two year-old had a doctor's appointment yesterday, so I had to take my babies into the city. After seeing the doctor (everything's fine!) we met up with my father-in-law (PopPop) for lunch. I wanted to go somewhere where I could get fruit and vegetables for my little girl, so I chose Chuck-A-Rama, the all-you-can-eat buffet.

As soon as we walked in the door I was transformed. I was no longer a middle-aged man with graying hair. No, I instantly became a young whippersnapper! Instead of being one of the oldest people in the room, like I am at basketball or at school and church activities with the kids, I was suddenly one of the youngest. At least three-quarters of the people in that restaurant were older than me. I felt inexplicably young and spry! (I haven't felt spry in ages.)

PopPop could see it, too. He's young enough that he also felt the "fountain of youth" effects of being around all those people older than him. But he's also old enough that he knew if we really wanted to see the old people, we should come back at 4:00 PM, because that's when they open up the meat-carving station and switch from lunch to dinner.

Another thing that made me feel young: dessert buffet! There's nothing quite like the youthful indulgence of having as many dessert as you want! (Until, of course, it all hits you about an hour later and you are unable to move.)

So many desserts!!! (You can't have just one!)

I was so young at the Chuck-A-Rama that I wasn't once accused of being the grandpa, not the dad, of my two babies. That was a nice change of pace.

So, if you ever start feeling like you're getting old, just head over to the all-you-can-eat buffet for an early dinner around four o'clock. You'll feel like a kid again! (And did I mention they have lots of desserts?)

An Ode to Egg Nog

There are two kinds of people: those who love eggnog, and those who are wrong.

What exactly is eggnog, anyway? Is it milk? Is it eggs? Is it a milkshake? Is it dessert? Is it a drink? Is it a way of life? I really don't know, and I really don't care. What I do know is that eggnog is delicious. That's all I really need to know.

Mmmm...nog!!!

There are some people who don't like eggnog. I don't know what is wrong with these people. Are they missing a small part of their soul? The part of the soul that recognizes deliciousness? These people seem normal, but they aren't. They're walking around with the inability to acknowledge what tastes good. Let's hope it's just a blind spot for eggnog. Let's hope it's not all inclusive. Let's hope they can still enjoy bacon.

Some people say they don't like eggnog because of the film it leaves on everything. It's true; eggnog leaves a residue in its wake. If you drink a glass full of eggnog, after you finish the inside wall of the glass will still be coated with a small layer of eggnog.

I'm perfectly fine with nog lining my stomach like it does this glass.

This grosses out some people. Not me. I like to think that when I drink eggnog, it coats the entire lining of my stomach with a protective lining of deliciousness, making everything around it happier and better.

I come by my love of eggnog even though I don't drink alcohol. For some people, eggnog is just a vehicle for delivering rum. And I can understand that. (I like the smell of rum. If I did drink alcohol I'm pretty sure I'd prefer rum to beer. Having grown up on a wheat farm, the smell of beer reminds me of rotted, mice-infested wheat.) But, I clearly think that the eggnog can stand on its own merit, without any alcoholic enhancements.

What makes me sad, though, is that eggnog is not available all year. It starts to appear in the stores around Halloween time, but disappears shortly after New Year's Day. I don't understand this. The fabulousness that is eggnog should be enjoyed year-round! Wouldn't President's Day be better with eggnog? Easter eggs are quite popular; why not nog up some of those eggs? What could be better than 4th of July fireworks and eggnog?

If Donald Trump really wants to "Make America Great Again," he could start by making eggnog available all year long!

Making America great again...one carton at a time!

So, let's all give the nod to eggnog!

Guessing the Christmas Gifts

Years ago, I was at my sister's house celebrating Christmas. We began exchanging gifts, and she had her three year-old son bring a present to where I was sitting. As he handed me a large, square box wrapped in Christmas paper, he said, "Here's your present. It's a basketball." And, of course, that's what it was.

Why do we wrap Christmas presents? We wrap them so the person receiving the gift doesn't know what it is. There's that element of surprise when someone opens a gift, not knowing what it might contain. A wrapped Christmas present is the great unknown.

Some people see this unknown as a challenge. They feel they must know what each present is before they unwrap them. They'll study the wrapped present. Feel it. Shake it. Squeeze it. Maybe even sniff it. To these people, no Christmas present is a successful Christmas present unless they know what it is before they unwrap it.

My brother-in-law was one of those people. He had an uncanny knack for announcing what each gift he received was before he opened it. He would hold the wrapped gift up to his face, as if mentally connecting to it, then say exactly what the present was before opening it. It used to drive my sister crazy. She began wrapping the presents in elaborate and creative ways in an attempt to confound him, but he would still usually announce the gift correctly before opening it. We never knew exactly how he was doing it. Was he carefully unwrapping and re-wrapping the presents? Was he doing detective work by checking out credit card statements and looking at receipts? However he did it, he was good. (And my sister enjoyed playing the game with him.)

Not everyone likes to play that game, though. For me, Christmas is stressful enough without having to figure out how to hide presents, or wrap them creatively, or try to keep secrets from my wife. Once, early in my marriage, I made the mistake of telling my wife what a present was before I unwrapped it. We were rearranging the gifts under the tree and I picked up a present wrapped for me and said, "Oh, here's a pair of jeans for me." I wasn't really trying to guess what it was, I just picked it up and it was obvious, so I said it out loud.

Nice jeans!

After that, my wife and I came to an agreement. Neither of us would try to guess what we got each other. It's like we tell our kids, we "get what we get and we don't throw a fit." For us, it makes for a more pleasant Christmas morning if we are surprised here and there, and it makes the preparation for Christmas easier, too. If I really wanted to know what my wife got me, I could just look through at her Amazon account, or look through some of the boxes in our hiding area. (We both hide gifts in the same place. We just leave them in boxes and trust each other not to look.)

It helps, too, that sometimes I'm not very bright. One year my wife got me the DVDs for the first nine seasons of the show Smallville. She wrapped each season separately, sometimes in different shaped boxes. And I was so dense that, even though I had already unwrapped Seasons 1-3 and Seasons 5-9, I was still surprised when I unwrapped Season 4. (My brother-in-law would not only have known he was getting all nine seasons, he would have correctly predicted which season was in which box.)

So, this Christmas I'm not worrying at all about figuring out what gifts I'm getting. I'll get what I get. And I'm also not worrying about trying to hide what I get for my wife from her. What I am worried about is trying to figure out what to get her. That's stressful enough.

11 Signs You Shop Too Much On Amazon Prime

Living in a small town can be difficult at times. But, one of the things that makes it easier these days is the convenience of Amazon Prime deliveries right to your front door. Now, instead of traipsing to the mall every time you need something, you can just make a few clicks on your computer and have anything you want delivered to your home for free* within two days! (*"Free" as long as you pay the yearly membership fee. Maybe "free-ish" would be more accurate?)

Yes, Amazon Prime is a good thing. But, can you have too much of a good thing? Here are a few signs that you might shop a little more often than you should on Amazon Prime:

1. You are on a first name basis with the UPS driver.--"Steve is running a little late today. I hope he's not having problems with his gout again."

So many boxes!!!

2. When you order something not from Amazon you get very angry if your order takes more than two days.--"What do they mean by 'allow four to six weeks for delivery?' Don't they know it's not 1978 anymore?"

3. When you know the different sizes of Amazon boxes by their number.--"I'm surprised they were able to fit this order in a P5. I thought for sure they were going to need a Q2."

It's funny, because last time they used a P1 and a 2BA.

4. You get more package tracking updates than you do texts or e-mails from family and friends.--"Hurray! The package is out for delivery! Oh, and I got an e-mail from Aunt Pearl, too."

5. One of your favorite games is playing "What's in this box?" (And you are right over 80% of the time.)--"I think the dishwasher soap and the diapers are in this box, and the shampoo and the gift for Aunt Myrtle are in that box."

6. You are on a first name basis with the folks at the cardboard recycling center.--"Hi, Gladys! I love the new nose ring!"

7. When you order from anywhere but Amazon, you get very angry if they expect you to pay for shipping.--"Shipping and handling? Why should I have to pay for someone to 'handle' my package? What if I don't want my package handled?"

8. You know where each Amazon warehouse is and how long it takes a shipment from each of them to arrive at your house.--"Oh, good, this package is shipping out of Louisville. They always do a better job of packing than the Denver warehouse."

9. All of your Christmas presents are wrapped in Amazon boxes. (Because you have a box the size of every possible gift you need to wrap.)--"I don't know why anyone would ever buy a gift box. I've got plenty of boxes right here."

10. When a Two-Day Shipping item takes more than two days to arrive, you check the package tracking at least twice an hour.--"It says it's still in Salt Lake City, but it said it was in Salt Lake City four hours ago! It shouldn't take four hours to get out of Salt Lake City!"

11. The mattress in your guest room consists of leftover packaging pillows.--"Timmy! Please stop popping the guest mattress!"

Rest in comfort---thanks to Amazon!

Old Dad Syndrome

As I walked past the mirror this morning, something caught my eye. It was me. But it didn't look quite like me. It looked like an older version of me. And then I realized, I am an older version of me!

Actually, the person I saw in the mirror reminded me a bit of my Dad. And then I did a little math in my head (always a dangerous thing.) When my Dad was the age that I am now (forty-ten), I had just returned home from two years as a Mormon missionary. I was 21 years old.

So, just to clarify this comparison, when my Dad was fifty forty-ten, his youngest child (me) was 21 years old and had been out of the house for the better part of three years. Meanwhile, as I am currently fifty forty-ten, I have a six month-old baby boy and a girl who turns two years old this week. And that's not even mentioning the six year-old boy or the eight year-old girl who, believe me, are often worth mentioning, too.

When I looked in the mirror I saw an old man, but that's probably because I haven't been getting much sleep lately. Last night I literally got about one hour of sleep. It started with me being so tired that I couldn't get to sleep until after midnight, despite the fact that I went to bed around nine o'clock. Then, the baby woke up screaming for some reason around one o'clock in the morning. The Wife cuddled him back to sleep, then I put him back in his bed. No sooner had I gotten him in bed than the two year-old decided to start crying. I changed her diaper, brought her in bed with us for a few minutes to calm her down, then put her back in her bed. She was calm for two minutes, then started screaming. I let her scream, hoping she would go back to sleep. The Wife had heard enough screaming and got up with her, only to find that she had pooped out of her diaper. (I had just changed her fifteen minutes earlier!) We brought her back to our bed and cuddled her some more. I put her back in her own bed. She screamed again, for several minutes. This time, though, she did finally go to sleep on her own. Within a minute of her quieting down, the baby started fussing again. He had wiggled his way out of his blanket and was cold. I snuggled him back in his blanket and held him in bed with me. Then The Wife's alarm went off. As I was ready to put the baby back in his bed, the girl started crying yet again.

I'm getting too old for this stuff!

It was a long night. (And that's not even taking into consideration the evening before going to bed, when I changed the sheets on the eight year-old's bed because she barfed in it, even though I was holding a garbage can right next to her to catch the barf. She, instead, barfed in the opposite direction of the garbage can. Because, why not?)

Most guys my age aren't dealing with screaming babies or barfed-in beds. They're just getting up three times in the night to go to the bathroom. (Don't worry, I was doing that in between all the baby screaming, too.)

Sometimes I wonder if this Old Dad Syndrome is worth it. But then the baby gives me a big smile and sticks his tongue out at me while he farts. Or the girl smiles and giggles as we sing "Popcorn Popping On the Apricot Tree" together. Or the six year-old tells me his latest plan to be a construction worker/dentist/school teacher. Or the eight year-old tells me the latest adventures of her and her friends in Pretend World.

They each make me smile in their own way. And that's something I'll never be too old for!

I'm All Jingled Out

It's not even December yet, and I'm already all jingled out.

We had a good Thanksgiving. We saw family, ate lots of good food, and enjoyed the leftovers. It was a good holiday.

But then, as soon as Thanksgiving was over, we were on to Christmas. It started out quite pleasantly. My wife (who is amazing!) spent hours making homemade gingerbread houses. On Black Friday/Leftover Day, my wife, the kids, my Mom, my sister-in-law, my niece and I spent hours decorating the gingerbread houses. The kids had a blast! (And the adults enjoyed it, too.) It's a very fun family activity, and it's a good way to get rid of leftover Halloween candy.

Hours of family fun!!!
 (And yes, the kids did "accidentally" eat some of the candy while decorating their houses.)

The next day, it was time to put up the Christmas tree, which would have been much easier if all of the pre-lit lights would actually light up and be lit when the tree was plugged in. They didn't. So, it was time for a trip to the store and a new Christmas tree.

Meanwhile, as she was busy with all of this, my wife was also spending hours online, shopping for Christmas on Black Friday and Cyber Monday (and the Saturday and Sunday in between, which don't have specially marketed names. Yet.) She puts a lot of time into picking out what the kids need and what the kids want for Christmas. It may not seem like much, but it takes a good amount of effort and skill to navigate the interwebs to find the things that will make the kids smile on Christmas morning. (I got on the computer, too, but it was only to check my fantasy football score on ESPN.)

And then the kids got out the hats. A couple of years ago we got a couple of silly elf hats. They have bells and lights, and they each play a song. (One plays "Jingle Bells" and the other plays "We Are Santa's Elves.") The kids absolutely love these hats, and I like them, too, for about five minutes.

Very festive! (And annoying.)

It was during the 739th rendition of "Jingle Bells" that I lost it. I yelled, "Stop the hat! I'm all jingled out!" Yes, I was all jingled out, and it wasn't even December yet.

But, I really shouldn't be jingled out yet. I still have to write the family Christmas card. I still haven't done any Christmas shopping yet. (Back in October a friend of mine told me he was finished with his Christmas shopping. I wanted to punch him in the stomach.)

I haven't earned the right to be jingled out yet. My wife has. She has already put in hours and hours of work toward making this Christmas a good and memorable one for the kids and me. She is amazing!

It's time I help her out. I need to put myself in gear and get in motion.

I need to get re-jingled!

Leftover Day!!!

For some people, the day after Thanksgiving is Black Friday. It's all about shopping and getting the best deals of the year. It's about staying up way late or getting up extra early. It's about standing in long lines and fighting over the last big screen television.

It doesn't need to be that way.

Instead of Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving should be known as Leftover Day.

We spend all week preparing for Thanksgiving dinner. There's lots of planning and lots of cooking. Then we spend maybe an hour actually eating the meal. It's fantastic! But when the feast is finished, what is left? The leftovers, that's what!

So many leftovers!!!

Rubbermaid, Tupperware, old whip cream containers, plates covered with tin foil: they all get stuffed with the remnants of all the best Thanksgiving meal foods. Unfortunately, too much of this great leftover food is wasted each year. The problem is, the longer the leftovers are left in the refrigerator, the more likely we'll forget what is in each container. And then, before you know it, you have a fridge full of mystery meals. And later still, we'll have containers full of fuzzy, furry former food.

That's why we need to celebrate the day after Thanksgiving as Leftover Day. If we eat the leftovers the day after Thanksgiving, we'll be more likely to still remember which food is in which container, and we'll be less likely to waste all of this delicious food.

One of the good things about Leftover Day is that you eat the leftovers right out of the leftover containers. Or, at the very least, you eat the leftovers on paper plates with plastic utensils. The key to Leftover Day is dirtying the fewest dishes as possible. There were enough dirty dishes on Thanksgiving, there's no need to add to it on Leftover Day.

Leftover Day can also be used to try new things and new combinations. Didn't have room for the sweet potatoes on Thanksgiving? You can have some on Leftover Day! Have you wondered what the green bean casserole would taste like covered in gravy? It's Leftover Day, give it a try!

And yes, there is still some pie! (But not for long.)

So, this year, take a break from the craziness of Black Friday shopping and just kick back and feed your face on Leftover Day! (And don't worry about the dishes. Mr. Hefty will take care of it.)