Author: VeryVocalViking

Just your friendly neighborhood giant viking, with a lot to say about food, family life, geek culture, and the world at large.

Blurty Blurter

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Wonderful Wife: “How was school today, Son?”

Little Miss Thing, age 7: “He went to the…”

Danger Monkey, age 10: “Nooooooo!!! I forbid you from saying anything for me!!!”

Me: “Whoa, man. Let’s not command your sister.”

DM: “Why not? It’s important.”

Me: “Because if you ask politely, I’ll help you enforce it. If you shout commands, you’re on your own.”

DM: (deep thinking)

DM: “Can you please not blurt out details of my day?”

LMT: “Sure.”

Me: “There. Doesn’t that seem better?”

DM: “No. She’s a blurty blurter. I don’t think she’ll stop without a threat.”

Me: “Believe it or not, it’s not about her. It’s about how we treat people. You’ll get better results with polite requests.”

DM: (dubious look) “We’ll see.”

Chili Men

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Me: “Son, there are few things in this life that make a Viking Dad happier than helping his son learn how to make chili from scratch. I’m proud of you.”

(much hugging)

Danger Monkey, age 10: “I just followed your guidance.”

Me: “I helped steer you, yes, but you did it all. You even diced the onion yourself.”

DM: “My chili smells really good.”

Me: “It will get better the longer you let it simmer. But, as one chili guy to another chili guy, I’ll give you the honor of the first taste test.”

DM: (dips spoon, tastes his chili)

DM: “By the Gods of Olympus! That is delicious!”

Me: …

DM: “That means I really liked it.”

Me: “Yeah, I know.”

DM: “Are you crying?”

Me: “Maybe a little.”

Diner Views

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I’m eating my cheap omelet in a diner where “with cheese” means a pale yellow square of American slapped on top. I can still see the wrinkles pressed into the “cheese” from the recently removed cellophane wrapper.

Eddie Rabbit’s “I Love a Rainy Night” rattles quietly above from crackling, overworked speakers.

The too-friendly waitress buzzes, smiling, from table to booth, flaming red fingernails highlighting all the yellow-gold rings on each hand.

Next to me four white-haired, gravel-voiced older men in work clothes loudly discuss old cars, old girlfriends, and how the government should be doing more to protect “intersex people.”

Wait… wut?

I love this town.