I say, "lawyers, guns and money..."

So good looking he might just be mine...

In the great chain of events that lead from infancy to the eventual ascension into manhood yet one more rite of passage occurred yesterday afternoon; the first haircut. Micah was starting to look just a bit shaggy around the ears and mama was threatening to take matters into her own hands if I didn’t do something and do it quickly. Now, I was all for leaving his hair alone until he could decide for himself what hair style best represented the inner being dwelling in his earthly vessel, but when Disney started calling and asking if he’d be interested in the starring role of the new Shaggy the Canine D.A. movie I figured it was either time for a trim or teaching him how to bark on cue. (The trim turned out to be cheaper than the chair and whip for training would be so it was off to the stylist.)

If I’d have known what a chick magnet babies are I’d have adopted one many years ago. It turns out that women go absolutely crazy when a man walks into an establishment holding a baby. (Jay, if you’re reading this post let me tell you that even the lesbians were coming up and talking to me and one such couple even invited Micah and I over for dinner and a movie of some sort!) Who knew? Does anyone think it was wrong to stop by the neighborhood bar on the way home and use Micah as bait while I fished for a girlfriend to have on the side?

Seriously folks, indoor seating next year?

Speaking of cold, the P.T. Cruiser Club had its first event of the year. It was a Cruise In at Ritter’s Famous Frozen Custard in Kettering, Ohio. With twenty-five mile an hour winds and temperatures in the twenty degree range the yogurt wasn’t the only two scoop item frozen solid, if you know what I mean. Everyone stood around for fifteen minutes or so and then headed out to warmer confines. I think they call it the April Fools Cruise In because only fools were hanging out with their frozen yogurt clusters blowing in the wind. (If you know what I mean?)

And speaking of two scoops of cold...

It seems as if my sister, Robin had a secret will drawn up naming her not only the executor of it, but also the sole beneficiary of my father’s assets. No one including my father’s life partner knew of its existence. No wonder she’s not picking the will up and setting a date for it to be read. No wonder she’s been carrying stuff out of his home faster than a crack-head stealing his mama’s television set. I wonder if she’s cleaning out his bank accounts as quick. I guess she figured that what we didn’t know we couldn’t contest. It’s a shame she overlooked the copy still on the estate grounds and I had the opportunity to look it over. Gosh, it must be nice being married to a lawyer, who just happens to handle estate planning and wills. Does anyone else think I should talk to the Bar Association and inquire about the ethics of such activities? No wonder Robin has worked so hard to create such animosity among her fellow siblings. As long as none of us were communicating she could maintain her veil of secrecy. Bad news for her though, we’re all talking now...

Someone once said to me, “Dirk, if it looks like a lawyer and smells like a lawyer the chances are pretty darn good you’re standing in the midst of a cow pasture.” I think I’m beginning to understand just what they were trying to say.