Tuesday, February 15, 2011

As long as he stays away from the killer robot field we're good

Valentine's Day: dinner at Texas Roadhouse, with my sweetie.  The decor is faux-Texas Yee-Haw, the wait staff wear t-shirts and jeans.

So what: nearly every instance of so-called fine dining in the Fox Cities has turned into a horrible experience of one kind or another.  Pox on them.

Give me good food, good company: I can make my own romance.


My wife (I'm along for the ride and to claim credit) is raising independent-minded well-adjusted young men.

Item.  Youngest Monkey woke me up at 03:43 complaining of a hurt ear.  But first he apologized for waking me up, said he tried to take care of it himself with q-tips and hot water but it just was not working.  Broke my heart to see him hurting, happy to see that, at the age of 11, he's trying to take care of things for himself.

Item.  His older brother came to me much earlier, holding his Dremel.  He'd ripped the rechargeable battery pack out of the handle.

"The batteries are flat."

That has a recharging station?  It's in ..

"Don't need it."


'They're rechargeable AAs in a cradle.  I wired up regular AAs with copper wire and tape.'

And he jazzed the motor several times to show this was so.

Improvise, adapt, overcome: he now has a hacked tool that works better for him.  I am so proud.

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