Sometimes I’m an Ass

Sometimes I’m an Ass

It’s true.  And I’m here to confess it.  In fact, I may even celebrate it a little.

Sometimes I'm an Ass
Sometimes I’m an Ass

You all are too, sometimes.  Yeah YOU!  I have yet to meet a person who wasn’t at least at some point in time a bit of an ass.  Tired and grumpy, stressed, sometimes even just asinine by nature…  there are lots of reasons it happens.  But it happens to everyone.  The key to successfully integrating this into your life is twofold:  1) Surround yourself with the least asinine people you can find, and 2) Forgive the ones (from group 1) who own their asininities.

That’s all well and good as an opening to a story written several days later, but is it a life philosophy that is flawless?  Nope, not a chance.  Do I always execute the above 2 rules flawlessly?  Nope, not a chance.  Now and then though, I do manage to practice what I tell my kids to practice.  And that’s where the celebration lies.

The asinine part is still hard to admit.  I really pride myself on my relationship with my kids, and I do work hard to remain as positive as possible so that they will do so as well.  Given that I’m not really an optimistic person by nature, it can be a chore to pull off.  Generally speaking, I do it pretty well.  Inevitably, though…  I’m occasionally an ass.

Now 4 days later it’s easy to identify-  I was tired and cranky and it had been a long hike and I just plain got grumpy.  With my Little Lady.  For something so dumb I don’t even want to go into it.  It was my bad.  And I hurt her feelings.  It is as rare for her to pout as it is for me to be an ass, so there we were at the top of Hanging Rock, enjoying our Saturday of doing nothing in particular at all but wasting the day, and I was asinine and she was pouty.  Oh dear.  And she wasn’t being a drama queen…  she was right to be upset with me.

…Cowboy Up…  (Foreshadow-  The Boy told me on the way to Hanging Rock that I had ‘that look’ that usually indicates I’m going to be grumpy about something…  He knows me too well…)

I clamored down to where she was sitting and took a seat next to her, and I listed off all the reasons I had been an ass.  With each confession, I scooted a little closer.  And with each inch of confession, I got a little closer to the exit of the doghouse.  It feels as good as you might think it looks.  Nearing that point where you can see the light at the end of the asinine tunnel.  But you have to go to the light-  it won’t come to you.

This is my favorite part so I started a new paragraph.  I hate asinine-me.  And I do mean hate, strong a word as it is.  I can’t wait to wash the asinine off, get out of the doghouse, get to the light at the end of the asinine tunnel, etc.  In the accompanying photo, I’m at the opening of the tunnel.  The smirk on the Little Lady’s face in this picture is the point at which I know I’m out of the doghouse, but she’s still going to milk me for a little more sweet talk before she officially lets me off the hook.  That’s the fun part for me, the asinine-biscuit I get for being a Good Boy.  At this point in the smirk, I get to just tell her all the things I love about her and how lucky I am that she forgives me when I’m an ass.  And every word of it is true.  It’s the good-smelling soap that cleanses you of your asinine smell.  The warm light at the end of the asinine tunnel.  You get the idea.  It’s the fun part.

With all that said, here’s where we should be celebrating even though I almost missed this part myself.  My good friend Karma was there.  She’s always watching.  Please know-  Karma will NOT smile upon you for being an ass.  She will, however, smile upon you for traipsing out of the asinine tunnel.  She’ll give you a little time to decide which way you’re headed after you’ve done something asinine.  And she’ll probably smack you pretty hard if you choose not to attempt escape from the doghouse.  In any case, she was there at the top of the rock on Saturday.  What I didn’t know at the time was that The Boy zoomed in to take this picture from what was probably an impossible angle and location, just as I reached the exit of the doghouse.

Karma watches most intently through your children’s eyes, and on Saturday, The Boy was apparently watching closely.  On the rare occasion that I get upset with The Boy, it’s because he wasn’t paying attention.  He’s paying attention when it counts.  He’s seen me being asinine before.  I’m glad he also sees me traipsing out of the doghouse too.  And if I were a betting man who knows The Boy well, I’ll bet that he’s learning a thing or two about how to get back in good graces with a Little Lady of his own whose heart he cares about very much.  That part was accidental on my part-  I never set out with this grandiose plan of what to show The Boy and The Girl about being an ass and then recovering from it.  I just wanted out of the doghouse, and Karma rewarded me for it by teaching my kids something good about life.

Therein lays the celebration.  Everyone is an ass sometimes.  Everyone.  How you measure a person depends on how often, and how sincerely sorry they are for being one.  My Little Lady will hopefully one day find a good man who is even less of an ass than I am, and is even better at owning his asinine behavior when he shows it.  The Boy will hopefully be quick to own his own asinine showings and therefore land himself a very good young lady who will not make him work too hard to get out of the doghouse on the rare occasion he finds himself there.  That’s worth celebrating, I think…

Cheers from The www.ThreeFiveZero.com Ass

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