Wisdom from Grandpa Rolf #4

Grandpa Rolf grew up on a farm in Germany during an extremely difficult time in Germany's history. I know he worked hard and sacrificed for his family.

I believe that much of his wisdom stems from his need for something light in his life. He turned to what our family does best: distort the ordinary, mundane and tragic into obscene, funny and/or outrageous images.

So, I picture a young Rolf gathering eggs from the chicken coup one early and cold morning when he created this gem of wisdom that is still preached with reverence in our family.

For any physical ailment, with the exception of a hurt back (I will cover back injuries in an upcoming post), You must liberally apply "Chicken Shit" to the affected area.

According to Gramps, it's an effective treatment for zits, rashes, patchy beard growth, warts, thinning hair, etc...

Another Horrible Husband Moment

Today, I had another horrible husband moment. I tend to have several small moments of being a horrible husband and father each day, but this episode was particularly horrible.

I forgot to take some medicine this morning when I left for work. I had a break in the late morning and drove home to get the medicine because I feel much better if I take it.

When I arrived home, I went to unlock the door and noticed that it was already unlocked. I suspected that Laurie was just in a hurry and forgot to lock the door when she left the house. I entered the house, took my medicine and locked the door as I left.

20 minutes later, I was back at work. Laurie called me from her cell phone. She proceeds to tell me that when she left this morning, the baby was deep asleep. Laurie asked our next-door neighbor, Anita, to listen to the baby monitor. Anita graciously agreed to help. Laurie left the door unlocked so that Anita could periodically check the baby, or go and get her if she woke up. In the meantime, I frantically came home, took my medicine, locked the door and left.

Laurie and I shared a brief moment of panic, followed by a round of the blame game. Her argument “I didn’t know you were going to come home, otherwise I would have told you”. My argument “You know I am forgetful and sometimes need to come home for medicine/food/work ID”. Clearly, my argument was weak. I conceded to Laurie and took the blame. We both imagined that our baby was screaming for someone to rescue her while poor Anita was stuck outside, unable to get the baby.

There is a happy end to this horrible husband moment. Dumb luck, or divine intervention prevented any catastrophe. Anita heard the baby scream shortly after Laurie left and went into our house to get the baby. The baby was safe and happy at Anita’s house when Laurie got home.