When they were young

I just returned from a cross country meet where the North Salem Boys and Girls won the invitational. It was great because the meet was in Dallas, Oregon where I was born and I use to hang out in Dallas when I was in high school. It was the closest large town with good looking girls.

I have copied an older post for some of you that have recently met me and give you a little taste of what Mrs. Pirate and myself have had to endur as we raised these little Pirates.

I have always told Mrs. Pirate when she never hears me laughing at bathroom humor to have me put out to sea. She is under strict orders to always account for my laugh if she hears a fart or a shit joke. I am like most men even if they are pirates, cowboys, firemen whatever most of us laugh at bathroom humor. But take heed bathroom humor can come back and bite you on the ass if you're not careful.

Several years ago when Jock (the 17 year old son) was two years old, Mrs. Pirate, the eldest daughter Blaze and myself were out to dinner at a upscale eatery. You know the white napkin, salad fork, pompous ass places where you spend a months wage on a steak and bland vegetables. I had just began a new business and I had the impression I was going places and so I better be prepared.Anyway we were eating away when the little Jock annouces that he had to go pee.

Now keep in mind there was a time this Pirate had done little in the nurturing department when it came to the kids. Don't get me wrong I had changed plenty of diapers and had gotten up in the middle of the night to feed and walk the kids but I had never taken my kids to a public restroom before. It wasn't out of defiance more like indifference.

I took the little fella by the hand and led him into the restroom. Keep in mind Jock has always been an easily excitable guy. Everything new he encounters, even to this day, is accompanied with absolute amazement and wonderment. All life is WAY COOL.

Now we are in the restroom and I'm doing the Pirate pissing business and he is just looking around the room. Asking all kinds of questions, Dad what dat? What's dat? He then asks me what I am doing. I tell him son I'm pissing in a urinal. "Can I piss in too dad"? "Sure, bud" He drops his drawers down around his ankles and turns around hoisting his arms in the air. I grab him and hold him up in front of the urinal and he gleefully pisses all the time laughing excitedly. Too much fun to contain himself I suppose.

After washing up we start back out to our table. Jock bolts ahead of me and stops at the entrance of the dining area and yells at the top of his lungs, "Mommie, Sissie, Mommie, Sissie Dad and I just pissed in the sink, Man, Dad that was cool". The place full of blue blood and blue bloods-in-training came to a complete halt. Not a sound could be heard other than Jock reloading and continuing to claim his new found discovery. The diners finally got wind back into their lungs and the whole place began to laugh.

I grabbed the little guy and we spent the rest of the dinner in the car. I plan to pay him back in ten fold when he reaches the stage where he needs to take of me in my old age.