Sir, would you like some cheese with your WHINE?

God, I scanned over my first few posts and if it doesn't depress the shit out of you, I don't know what will. Please, if you're on the bridge, looking over the edge and contemplating a nose dive, I beg you not to read my blog. Go call the frickin Good Samaritans, like the sign says - ever notice how they cleverly post those "Desperate?" signs at bridges? Desperate for what? A coffee and donut? World peace?

To prove that funny shit does happen to me every now and then, let me tell you about something that happened last night at the grocery store.

As I mentioned before, I have two kids and we like to have a good time, joke with each other, tease each other, etc. I straddle the line with being an authoritative Dad and a big doofus. We have lots of little games that we play with each other. One game in particular is Gotcha Bum.

It's a simple game, really. One of us says "I'm gonna getcha bum", and chases the others around until you give 'em a little swat on the bum. Get it? Gotcha Bum. I never claimed that our little games were sophisticated or deep. But Gotcha Bum is fun because we're a family of bum slappers. There's nothing like a playful little swat on the behind to say I love you, or I gotcha bum and now you're "it". In Gotcha Bum, once you get your bum slapped, the slappee becomes the slapper, and proceeds to chase you until they can get you back. Maybe it's just my kids, but they laugh and giggle like insane asylum inmates, and I love it.

Now, I know bum slapping isn't cool in most respectable circles, but there is just something satisfying about patting someone on the butt, and I'm not afraid to admit it. If football players can do it, why the hell can't I? It's like when I was in first grade and Miss White made me sit in from recess for pulling Jane Facenda's flouncy skirt clear up over her head while waiting in line. Sure she hated me forever afterwards, but it was all in good, innocent fun and her skirt was practically begging for it. Anyway, I digress, per usual.

So last night T, CC and I were at the grocery store and T decided to to play hide and seek in the floral department. I let him hide for a while while I picked out my produce, but then it was time to move on to the deli section which was outside of view, so I asked him to come with me. One look at his little face told me he had something up his sleeve - he has a devilish little half grin that he does when he's hatching a plan, and he flashed it to me as he peeked from behind a bunch of carnations.

"T, come on, we need to keep shopping". No movement detected, so I walk towards the flowers. I see my son on his hands and knees trying to hide behind a pot of petunias. I smile because it was a little like an elephant trying to hide behind a palm tree. However, T sees the smile as license to play, so he pops up and says "I'm gonna get your BUMMMMM!", runs over and taps me on the behind, and then says "HA HA, I got your BUUUUUUMMMMMMMMM" and starts to run. Mid-stride, he yells over his shoulder, "don't spank my BUUMMM, Daddy!", laughing maniacally and holding both hands over his little tush.

Of course, time stopped, and every shopper in our vicinity turned their gaze directly on me. Their looks were a mixture of horror and disgust, with only a few smirkish smiles from people who had a sense of humor and could appreciate a game like Gotcha Bum. I loudly said to CC, who was giggling herself, "That T, he's such a little kidder, who taught him THAT game", while giving her a look that said, don't blow my cover and I'll buy you whatever your little heart desires.

So the moral of this story is, don't create fun little games that could embarrass the hell out of you in public, definitely don't admit that it was you who created the game, and if all else fails, bribery works like a charm, every time.