AAA Batteries Anyone?

So I'm driving between Montgomery and Mobile and a truck passes me, clearly because I was obeying all posted speed limits as I always do and he was not. Granted the limit I observe may not be exactly posted on the section of the pavement that I am currently traveling but its like they say, it's always 70 somewhere. So I gaze over at the truck and see the name and motto of the business on the side - AAA Batteries - Delivered and Installed.

This makes me quite curious. The business has to pay for the nice truck, the gas and all and I just can't see how there can be that much demand for that type of a service, especially in this economy. Who calls them, I wonder? How many people are there in the greater Alabama area who either can't find the little screwdriver one needs to open the battery compartment on kid's toys or household appliances or just can't match up that little cross thing on the battery with the little cross thing on the powerless object? Really, even I can open up the camera, kid's toy, remote control and other appliance essentials without assistance and get those little buggers in them. And, if they don't work, I have enough smarts to dump them out and reverse them. And, don't most devices use the AA variety anyway?

I ponder what these same folks might do if their garbage disposal quits working like ours did the other evening thanks to the sacrificial offering of a Popsicle stick by a member of my family who is over 40 and is not me. I'm thinking panic at the disco type of breakdown for sure. Now I, of course, handled it like a parent who recognizes their duty to effectively and responsibily teach home maintenance to their children should.

First, I emphatically ordered the kids to stand far, far away from the grinding machine to watch a pro at work. I inserted my hand into a plastic Walmart bag, raised it above my head and announced, for great effect, "I'm going in. No one move" figuring I could always get my hand out of the grinder faster than either of them could even get near a power switch since they were standing plastered against the far wall "for their own safety." I extracted the somewhat ground up wood with the flourish of a surgeon, held the stick up like a trophy for the kids to see and then disengaged my hand from the bag, reset the machine with the little red button on the bottom and voila, after two attempts, it began to purr. The kids jumped up and down and cheered - Aidan because he was frankly quite impressed that I fixed the thing and Mia because she likes to jump up and down and yell just for the heck of it, no reason necessary. I then suggest that one of them consider a career as a plumber as I believe that will save me quite a bit of money down the road. Or a doctor. Or both.

But, as usual, I digress. After about 25 minutes of pondering what percentage of the population has battery issues, how many of them would then call a service and how that service has been impacted by the current state of the economy I then decide that the business must just be a cover for something else. Surveillance? Drug running? Who knows but it must be interesting. And then, the lightbulb goes on. Car batteries. They deliver and install car batteries and wanted to be listed first in the phone book.

Well, at least it occupied me for a good 40 minutes.

So, several weeks ago, I go to get my scarf out of the coat closet and I find my sweet little girl’s princess dress, still on the hanger, mashed up into a ball and shoved under the scarf, along with the princess shoes that her loving brother bought her for Christmas with my very own money. I stunned by the cruelty of this disappearing act, as my dear, sweet daughter just loves, loves, loves the dress as it has Dora on it and she currently believes that she is Princess Dora based upon her haircut and head shape. And perhaps her mother suggesting something to that effect. Often.

I stand there and try to catch my breath from the shock, trying to figure out what cruel person had done such a thing, knowing quite well it wasn’t me, the loving brother or either of the cats although the cats would have done so if they had opposable thumbs as they are getting a tad tired of hearing ‘Kitty cat, kitty cat” screamed at them while they are being chased through the house although the throwing of treats by the bouncing child does seem to go a long way to mitigate their concern, at least for very brief periods.

I then realize that I haven’t recently seen the other princess dress or tutu that she had been given by wonderful friends and family in the past and come to the only logical conclusion – game on. We wait until the loving husband goes to play soccer and the search begins. Oddly, the other princess dress had made its way into the plastic pumpkin the kids use to go trick or treating. Now, that normally would have worked quite well if the pumpkin was at the bottom of a big trash can but considering it was sitting on a shelf, illuminated by a light, the effort could only rate a “almost pathetic” on the hiding scale.

We then find the tutu which only rated a “really, truly pathetic attempt” on the hiding scale as it was merely stuffed under a blanket in her closet, and then proceeded to make a go forward plan. First, we go upstairs and find designated hangers for the dresses and hang them prominently in her room. We then discuss the need for princess pants on a going forward basis as the princess has made the choice in the past to freeze her parts off rather than spoil the aesthetics of her look leading to her father's objection of the daily wearing of the princess dresses. Apparently, he does want to get her married off some day and having not frozen off some of one's parts does up the odds of this occurring so I'd say the objection is valid but, heck, might not be a bad thing when she is a teenager.

So, convincing the princess to wear pants was necessary and fortunately, absolutely simple. First, I explained that only princesses can wear pants that have horizontal stripes and pointed out by a tour of my closet that I, having gracefully aged out of the princess stage, have no garments with horizontal stripes because they make one look a bit like a chubby Dowager Empress who wants to visit the Willie Wonka factor in the very worst way and is just sadly living in that past dream. No, as everyone knows, horizontally stripped pants are merely for princesses.

We then find two pairs of princess pants with the required horizontal stripes in her dresser and she readily agrees that they are a necessary addition to her finery. she then decides to top off her look with the footwear of her choice. Golf shoes. Notthe princess ones her loving brother bought her for Christmas as they do seem to have been put in a "safe place" that rates as "pretty damn good" on the hiding scale. Now, the golf shoes may be one size too big but an impressive choice nonetheless as it appears she may have a fall back plan of trophy wife, golf pro or marketing executive if this princess thing doesn't work out.

But, for the last 14 or so days, it has apparently been good to be the princess.

Joan's Translation

Given my amazing command of the Spanish language, I have decided to translate Robert's post into English for those whose command of the Spanish language is not as highly skilled as mine. Now, my skills would best be described as "I can't speak a word of it but somehow I can generally read it and translate single words. And curse occasionally quite effectively and loudly while gesticulating at the ceiling for special Latino effect." But, because he used easy words, this translation in not only easy, it is accurate.

So here goes the official translation -" usually my wife writes on this blog. She is unique. Fortunately, she is out of town somewhere in Alabama and I have gotten my hands on her password. So, I want to share some info with my compadres in Peru about my family and, of course, my amazing wife. My son and daughter have reached the ages of 6 and 2 respectively. They are kind, considerate, well-mannered, and nice to other small children and animals whether the animals want to be subjected to the "nice kitty" treatment or not. They just both know how important it is to the animals self-esteem to be loved and appreciated. Of course, these traits have been nurtured in them by their amazing mother who apparently has skin that only appears to be around 7 years old despite her chronological age of 45. Truly, the woman is amazing, especially in her thought processes and parenting skills. Of course, my children can also be stubborn and loud, traits they have learned from me. Fortunately, my awesome and beautiful wife really appreciates these characteristics. Of course, that is when she is in Alabama and the kids and I are not anywhere near the state.

That's it for now, but I would like to update my Spanish speaking family and friends occasionally. Of course, I will ask my wife to also post the official translation for the English only speakers amongst us. She seems to do that so very well.

Ciao.

Robert"

Para todo el Peru.

Usualmente es mi esposa la que escribe por no decir la unica que escribe todo el contenido de nuestro blog, Hace un tiempo un amigo en el Peru me comento haber entrado y poder apreciar todo lo relacionado con mi familia claro esta que todo lo escrito esta en ingles por tal razon pense tal vez pueda ver otra persona especialmente en el Peru que me conosca y seria excelente poder saber de ellos. Espero poder escribir de vez en cuando algo interesante cabe mencionar que no soy tan buen escritor y aceptar que mi esposa es la que tiene el talento siendo yo su fan que apenas termina de escribir empiezo a leerlo.
Algo acerca de mi.
Vivo en Gringolandia cerca de 15 A~os
Casado con dos ni~os, Mia Grace tiene 2 y Aidan 6 a~os
Mi esposa se llama Joan es natural de aqui y estamos casados cerca de 7 a~os.
Dios los bendiga.
Robert