MY SON KYLE
Kyle was born in Keflavik Iceland on 15 March 1973. The Naval Base Hospital where he was born was an old building built during the 2nd World War. The night he was born, his doctor was called from his home and showed up in Pajamas with hearts on them. Not real hearts just imprinted hearts. He was an obstetrician not a sloppy cardiologist. (The doctor not Kyle).
There is an old Roman saying: “Beware the Ides of March”. Kyle, like Caesar, decided to ignore that warning. He practiced ignoring warnings for some time and still occasionally ignores them. When he was smaller and a little younger this trait of Kyle’s worked for me. I would say, Son, you better not eat those vegetables, you will get all muscular like the Hulk or Superman .
Kyle often heard me tell people that he was born in Iceland and that I had the Doctor put a small tattoo on his butt: “Made In Iceland”. He believed this for some time. He would turn around and around like a cat chasing his tail trying to see the non-existent tattoo. His sister Margaret, my favorite daughter, decided to take care of Kyle from the moment he was born. She did a good job of this until she left home at age 18. She waited on him hand and foot, helped him do his homework and kept his room clean, wellllll semi-clean. You might say Kyle had his big sister wrapped around his finger. She did have one major fault. Since she was bigger than Kyle, she would push him around and wrestle him to the ground. Well, after many cans of spinach and a few years of growth, I warned Margaret that if she didn’t stop beating Kyle up that I would let him take her out in the yard and beat her butt in a wrestling match. Well, Kyle finally triumphed and whipped his BIG sister and boy was she shocked. I think Kyle was equally shocked.
Kyle grew up to be a fine young man. He is generous and kind-hearted and has many friends who have known him from grade school. He loves all his Aunties and they love him and spoil him rotten as does his Mom. He is quite the charming smooth talker and somewhat of a con artist. He, like me, has decided to grow older but not necessarily grow up. His mother still has high hopes for him as well as me. Hope springs eternal.
Kyle and I have a routine where we start laughing about something and we keep on and on until we are both lying on the floor out of breath with our sides hurting. His mother does not like this routine much. His Mom used to send us to the store and she always gave us a list and told us not to get things not on the list. Well, this worked a time or two until Kyle wanted some cookies. I told him: “Son, we can’t get cookies; they are not on the list”. Well, this boy is smart and inventive. He had me buy a pen and then write “pen and cookies” on the list. We have been incorrigible since that time.
One time when he crunched a door on his car, we drove about 75 miles to an auto wrecking place and bought a replacement door. Then we drove about 83 and 7/10 miles to a friend’s house who agreed to help replace the door. When that was accomplished we drove back home and just a few miles from home, I realized I was missing my coffee cup that enjoyed going everywhere with me. We were close that coffee cup and I. Well, I told Kyle. Son, we have to go back to the wrecking yard and find my coffee cup. I’m sure that is were I last remember having it. Well, while I was looking for a place to turn around, Kyle looks at me and says. Dad, those coffee cups cost $2.00 at 7-11 and you will spend way more than two dollars in gas driving all the way back in hopes of finding your %^$#&*^ cup. I couldn’t ignore this stroke of brilliance so we went to 7-11 and I bought another $2.00 cup and received my first cup of coffee in the new cup free of charge which brought the relative cost down to $1.00. That boy is a genius.
Kyle knows I like to do things the hard way and he has come up with a saying: There is a right way and a wrong way and the Owen way. He takes great joy in telling stories on me.
He and I get together to go to the horse races and we go pool shooting sometimes. He always does something special for his Mom and me on our birthdays. This year was no exception. About eight years ago he took me to a Randy Travis concert and we enjoyed it so much we still talk about what enjoyment we got from listening to one of our favorite singers in person.
Well, He did it again this year. He found out Randy was coming to Tacoma and he bought VIP tickets right up front about 7 feet 9 inches from the stage. It was a great night and I enjoyed it so much. A birthday present that I will always remember not just some store bought item that I have to find a place for or pack up, but a wonderful memory with my favorite son.
I am proud of him and appreciate spending time with him. He shared a joke with me that
I thought everyone would like.
A dog walks by a store and sees a help wanted sign that said: “Help wanted. Must be able to type 80 words a minute, have excellent computer skills and be bilingual.” The dog takes the sign into the store and barks until the manager comes to see about the noise.
He sees the dog with the help wanted sign and says: “What are you doing? You are a dog. I can’t hire a dog. Anyway, you have to be able to type 80 words a minute. The dog goes over to the typewriter and types out a perfect document without any spelling errors. The manager is amazed and says well, I still can’t hire you and anyway. You have to have excellent computer skills.
The dog goes to the computer, writes a program, executes the program, and prints out the results. The manager is again amazed but says: “This is truly unbelievable (which is what I told Kyle at this point in his story) but I still can’t hire you because you have to be bilingual. The dog walks over to the manager looks up at him and says: …….
“Meow”.
For a boy born on the Ides of March, he turned out O.K.
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