Thank You

Noah was only 3 when we discovered that his speech and language were far behind other children of his same age. As parents, we blamed ourselves for not being more vigilant or dedicated to his development. After multiple doctor visits, tests and evaluations, he was diagnosed with Apraxia of Speech. My heart broke a little bit for my son. I want the lives of my children to be richer, fuller and less challenging than my life. A speech disability seemed to dissolve my hopes for Noah to have a better life than my own.

The negative emotional impact of the speech disability to Noah is painful for me to observe. People don’t know how to react when they speak to him. Noah’s self confidence is assaulted daily as he attempts to interact with people that don’t understand him. He gets frustrated and sad when, despite his best efforts, the words that are produced by his mouth don’t match the words in his mind.

We do not hesitate to help Noah. Laurie has been a scientist, warrior, translator, teacher and advocate. When we learned of the availability of a speech assistance device, we prepared ourselves to take any measure or step necessary to get him a device. Noah heard our discussions about getting a device for him and immediately demanded to be involved with our efforts. His art is a direct reflection of his commitment to the cause. It represents his imagination, passions and understanding of beauty.

People who attended Noah’s art show made a permanent impression on Noah. He watched closely as people evaluated his drawings, paintings and photos. He thrilled when he heard the compliments and beamed with pride as people picked up the art to have as their own. My family is forever indebted to attendees of the art show for your monetary and emotional contribution.

We have also been the recipients of an overabundance of charity from others who didn’t attend Noah’s art show.

To everyone that has freely given of their emotional and physical support, prayers, time, money, facilities, art skills and materials; you have my sincerest gratitude. Thank you for everything you have given. Your efforts have ensured that Noah will get a speech assistance device. Know that your contributions will improve the quality of his communication and mitigate the emotional impact of his Apraxia.

Reminder of Our Blessings

On Tuesday, our landlord told us that he was tired of being a landlord, was going to sell the house we rent from him and that we needed to be out of the house by May 7th.

We have been saving to buy a house and were planning on purchasing one in the fall, after we paid off a few bills and wiped out some of our credit cards. Our rent in this house has been nominal and has afforded us the chance to play catch up with our finances. Although we were on the right track, we are in no way prepared to purchase a house right now. Laurie and I panicked. I think Laurie and I felt like our dream of owning a home was smashed. Maybe that's a bit dramatic, but we have been working hard to buy our own little slice of America for a few years.

Through some miracle, and I am convinced it's because people love our charming and adorable children, family and friends have rallied around us. People have been bringing us boxes, helping us pack and helping us find a new place to live. We have received an awesome and immediate response to our little crisis and it has been overwhelming.

To my family, friends, friends of friends and anyone else who has offered support and help, you have my sincerest gratitude. My little family is so lucky to have so many people that care.

Tragic Feed

I was looking at a news website and thought I read a link "Tragic Feed". I would ask the overused question: "What is wrong with me", but I think everyone would answer. I do wonder what I was thinking; maybe one of the following ideas fit my mood?

1. Tragic Feed: When farmers feed low grade chicken meat to chickens.

2. Tragic Feed: A polite way to say you ate something that gave you the mud butt

3. Tragic Feed: A band name. Maybe for a group of young people who feel suffocated by society at large and struggle internally with their deep thoughts and volatile anger. "Nobody understands my angst!"

It's gotta be the last one. I am sure of it.

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.

Wisdom from Grandpa Rolf #3

Years ago, my grandpa offered me his finger. He said these magical words that I didn't understand then:

"Sie mal dran, riechts wie marzipan"

After I pulled gramps' finger and witnessed the devastation that only his colon can unleash I promised myself two things:

1. NEVER pull gramps' finger again.

2. Get the translation of his 'pull-my-finger' saying.

I have stuck by my first promise and followed up on my second. The translation is "Pull my finger, it smells like marzipan".

Wisdom from Grandpa Rolf #2

**Warning! The following post contains a mild swear word and some sexual language.**

The wisdom of Grandpa is meant to deal with all facets of life. Whether you have concerns about the lack of hair on your chest, or your marital relationship, Grandpa has advice to share.

The following nugget is a rough translation of a German saying Grandpa Rolf has shared with many times:

"To hell with love, to hell with marriage, go back to your hand."

Could any single statement reveal the truth so well? Consider the person who is only after a quick thrill. Such a person would not be well suited to a loving, committed relationship. Marriage would be abhorrent to a person who only seeks immediate satisfaction. No, for such a person, the best solution is going 'Hand Solo'. The time and emotional effort involved in love and marriage are contrary to a quick moment of pleasure.

For people who long for more than 1 minute in heaven, the value of finding one person and committing to a marriage is the epitome of true joy. These people know that cultivating a relationship while you are still young is like saving up money in the bank. The time will come bodies can no longer perform the way they used to. When that time comes, committed couples can lean on their solid friendship to support one another and provide companionship.

I am sure this is what Grandpa means when he dispenses this sage piece of truth.

Wisdom from Grandpa Rolf #1

My Grandfather is a great man who often imparts his wisdom to the family. I have been thinking about the various bits of of knowledge and how they speak to me as a person. Grandpa always shares these bits with a hint of mischief in his eye. In his sturdy German-accented English, he relays the wisdom of old Germany. There is no doubt that self improvement and an ultimate sense of self can be attained by following Grandpa Rolf's life lessons. I thought I would share some of his wisdom on my blog, so that anyone that reads can be edified. This is the first installment:

"Eat more eggs [insert food of your choice], it puts hair on your chest"

Short Story II

Due to the underwhelming response I recieved from my last post, I suspect that my short story was so awesome, it left everyone speechless. Nothing could make me happier. However, thanks to those who had enough discipline of mind to actually leave comments. Your comments are the fuel of my spirit.

So, prepare to be awed with the next portion of the story. Are you ready? Strap yourself into your seat and grab a paper-bag....

Liam cautiously rolled onto his side. Wincing with pain, he sat up. His head wobbled and he braced himself with his arms. He closed his eyes because the whole world was waving back and forth like the water in a bowl that has just been shaken. It took a few minutes for him to stabilize himself. In order to avoid thinking about the many areas of pain throughout his body, he focused on how he ended up in a gutter with a broken body. He reflected on the previous night, scenes of violence flashed in his mind. He tried to remember why he had been beaten.

It was a Wednesday night. Wednesday night’s were unexciting for Liam. He would start his dinner around 6:30. He may watch T.V, but there weren’t any shows that interested him. He would restlessly pace around the house searching for something to keep his mind busy. He may call his parents, or he may go on a walk. Inevitably, he would wind up in bed around 8:30 or 9:00. He would read until midnight and then wake up happy because Wednesday was over.

This Wednesday started as uneventful as the rest. By the time Liam had started his drive home for another boring evening, the world seemed to explode in chaos. As he approached the freeway to enter, he noticed that all traffic was stopped. Not just on the on-ramp, but traffic was stopped on both sides of the freeway. Liam tuned his radio to a local all news station.

Short Story Ideas

I am aspiring to write my own short story, for my own pleasure. I thought it might be fun to provide an intro to a story I have been thinking of and solicit ideas from those who read my blog on where to take the story next. So, if you have a few minutes, read my intro and let me know if I screwed up any grammar and also let me know where else I could take the story:

Metallic tasting blood seeped into his mouth. His eyes popped open and his view was consumed by an aluminum bat approaching his face quickly. Too tired to react with anything more than the most primitive motions; his eyes simply closed when the bat made contact. Starbursts erupted behind his closed lids. A piercing buzz filled his ears and as the pain burst through his head. Unconsciousness mercifully saved him from feeling the subsequent blows.

Bright light strived to breach his eye-lids. The filtered orange-pink light was the first sensation Liam noticed as he returned to consciousness. He knew he had sustained a violent beating and was amazed that he wasn’t dead. Taking great care to evaluate his injuries, he first took metered breaths. No pain resulted from his breathing. Relieved that he could breathe comfortably, he decided to test his vision. Dirt had become lodged in his eyes, cemented by the involuntary tears of pain that occurred sometime during the pummeling he took. He slowly opened his eyes and the thin layer of dirt cracked and fell away. Liam had to blink a few times to focus his vision. He was laying sideways, his head resting on the sidewalk and the rest of his body sprawled in the gutter. Now he noticed a deep, pulsing ache that was perfectly timed with his heartbeat at both the base of his skull and temples. He hoped that he had no permanent damage to his head or neck, so only used his eyes at first to evaluate his surroundings. Low warehouses and storage structures surrounded him. Seagulls floated lazily in the sky searching food. A solitary wispy cloud moved quickly against the bright blue backdrop of the sky. Grateful that he wasn’t blind he moved on to his hearing. A persistent buzzing loomed in his ears, as if he had gone to a loud rock concert the night before. The natural sounds were distant, but he could recognize most of them. Waves were crashing against a nearby beach and seagulls screeched. Liam moved his hands and arms carefully. Satisfied that no bones were broken, he tenderly scanned the rest of his body. He found a large lump behind his forehead. Dried blood covered his left ear and the left-side of his neck. Two teeth were missing from his mouth. His clothes were torn and frayed. Remembering being dragged behind a slow-moving car across a warehouse floor, he was surprised he even had clothes on. He completed his evaluation by moving his legs and feet. Bruises covered his arms, wrists and legs. When the assault first started, he recalled trying to defend himself. Later, he remembered groaning with pain, but was unable to hold his hands up anymore.

Raspberries to the Gateway!

Saturday night, we were treated to a movie and movie snacks by our good friends, Ryan and Christine. They asked us to meet at the Gateway around 7:00. We arrived early, fearing the length of time it would take to park and wait in line. We had about 45 minutes to walk around and window shop before meeting our friends.

The movie was enjoyable and it was nice to be on a date. After the movie, we grabbed a few parking validations so that we wouldn’t have to pay for parking. We were stuck in the claustrophobic parking structure for 30 minutes, waiting our turn to get out. When we presented our validation to the parking attendant, I was rudely told that they only accept one 2-hour movie validation per car. She then brusquely told me that I owed her three dollars. I handed the parking witch my debit card. Her rude tone turned into poorly veiled anger as she told me that debit cards are not accepted and that she needed cash or check. I lost my temper. I told her that she was ridiculous. Thankfully, Laurie had cash. As I handed the witch her cash, she gave me a sarcastic ‘Have a good night’. My hackles were raised by her rudeness and I insulted her with a “Blow it out your ass" before I pulled away.

Perhaps I took it too far, picking on a single parking attendant. But I really felt like I was telling Larry H. and his horrible company off. The parking witch represented the Gateway and represented the policies created by Larry H’s company. I am still seething about the lame policy at the Gateway that forces movie-goers to pay for parking. The movie tickets and snacks are already outrageously priced.

I am grateful to my friends for treating us to a show, and if I had to pay for the movie tickets myself, I would be even more upset. I will never choose to go to the Gateway to see a movie again. I have plenty of other nice theaters within a 20-minute drive that don’t charge for parking.

Questionnaire from Lou's Blog

Laurie had this on her blog. Since these questionnaires are so hot right now, I thought I would do one, too.

So, here goes:

A: What accessories do you wear everyday? A Star-Trek pin and a BattleStar Galactica necklace

B: What is your beauty routine? Shower, brush teeth, mouthwash and Nair (down there)

C: What was the last item of clothing (for yourself) that you purchased? A vintage 2002 Salt Lake Olympics Roots hat.

D: Do you use a dresser, closet, or both? A dresser for my ‘evening wear’ and a closet for everything else.

E: What type of earrings are in your ears right now? Big hoopy pirate-style

F: What type of figure do you have? Average height, weight of a gnu

G: Do you wear glasses? X-Ray glasses.

H: What type of handbag do you carry? It’s European!!

I: What is your ideal of style? Serial Killer

J: What jewelry are you wearing right now? My watch and Martha Stewart nipple rings.

K: Do you wear knee-hi stockings? They match my lederhosen.

L: Do you *have* to wear matching lingerie? Oui, but of course

M: Do you wear makeup? I’m so darned pretty, if I do wear it, it’s to make-down my appearance so people stop staring at me.

N: Do you wear nightgowns? Oui, but of course!

O: What outerwear do you put on when going out on a typical winters day? This season, it’s faux monkey fur with matching bootlets.

P: What is your favorite perfume? Camel Musk and English Leather (available through Avon and at a convenience store near you)

Q: Is your motto "quality over quantity" when it comes to clothing and accessories? Quantity. I wear as many clothes at one time as I can.

R: Do you wear rain boots? I prefer to call them “Urban Puddle Walkers” It sounds more androgynous that way.

S: Do you wear socks or slippers when your feet get cold? See Q.

T: Do you have a set of travel luggage? See O.

U: What is your daily uniform? Shirt, sometimes pants but always socks.

V: If you are married, did you wear a veil with your wedding dress? No, but I lift my brides veil to give her a smooch.

W: Do you wear a watch? Everyday

X: What item of clothing always makes you feel eXtremely beautiful? My Martha Stewart toe-ring and matching nipple rings.

Y: What is your favorite type of yarn? Yak

Z: Do you prefer zippers or buttons? Button fly is the best. Zippers seem so threatening to my ‘down there’ parts.

Happy Birthday Laurie

It’s my bride’s birthday today. I wish I could have lavished her with many expensive gifts and purchased servants to grant her every whim. Instead, I provided her with a pauper’s offering and hope that my devotion and love for her will overcome my material shortcomings.

Laurie is my perfect match. She and I started out as best friends who talked about everything and we are keeping up the friendship. We often bounce ideas off one another and work to find solutions quickly. I couldn’t imagine a finer spouse to weather all of life’s up and downs with than Laurie.

She makes people feel welcome and loved, which is why she makes friends easily. Laurie is a world-class peacemaker. She can calm my raging temper with her smile. Her patience with the boy and me are beyond measure. When you speak with her, she really listens to what you say and makes you feel like your ideas and thoughts are very important.

Laurie is creative and playful. There are many times that I am stumped when trying to teach the boy things. She is able to develop methods to teach him all things in language he will understand. Her child like excitement for simple things can really liven things up. When we went on vacation to California, she was hopping around like a 9-year old girl when we went to the beach because she loves the ocean.

She is a speed-reader and easily absorbs the information she reads. You can ask her about the plot of any book she previously read and will provide you with details that most people wouldn’t remember.

My wife is a tender and faithful soul. Her tolerance for swearing and violence is minimal. She remains close to the Lord regardless of the trials she is going through. Her unpretentious adherence to her religion makes her a stellar example to those around her.

Laurie, I love and adore you. You still make my life exciting and worthwhile. I am grateful that I married an 'amazing' woman like you. Happy Birthday Love!

Christmas Miracle

Laurie and I have been yearning for a recliner for years. It all started when I valiantly promised that I would purchase a nice recliner for my wife during her first pregnancy. Unfortunately, I was unable to live up to that promise. She reminded me of her desire every time we saw a nice recliner. It wasn’t a direct reminder; it was a more subtle reminder in the fashion of women. Something like: “Boy, that recliner would sure be nice. I would really enjoy sitting in it during late nights with our babies.” My guilt at not being able to provide a recliner for my wife was enhanced by my own desire for a comfortable chair to relax in.

Thanks to the majesty of selflessness during the holidays, we experienced a Christmas miracle that has allowed me to maintain some dignity, but has also granted us a beautiful leather recliner. My parents heard us talking about a particular recliner at Costco. They set out to purchase this recliner for us and surprise us with it for Christmas. However, before they had their chance to surprise us, Laurie and I found that there was only one chair left in the valley. My parents discarded their wish for a surprise and bought the chair for us yesterday. It’s so comfortable that it’s probably a sin to sit in it for too long. Laurie and I were taking turns sitting in it last night.

Halloween Moochers

Although Halloween is thought to be a holiday in which comic mischief is allowed, I believe that civilized communities need to maintain some etiquette during the festivities.

For example, when trick-or-treating, you need to wait for the resident of the house to open the door in order to obtain your treat. It is considered poor manners to walk into someone’s home and demand candy. Likewise, it’s crucial for members of the community to give and take in harmony. If you take your child trick-or-treating in your neighborhood, you must give candy to the other children in the neighborhood. Sadly, my small family has disturbed this Halloween harmony by only taking candy and not giving any in return. The disturbance to harmony dawned on me as my son trudged up the steps of the last home on our block with 6 lbs. of candy weighing him down.

Let all of my neighbors rest assured that next year, we will provide treats to their children, just as they gave treats to my child. Thus harmony will be restored and the spirits who roam the Earth towards their final destination on Halloween do not need to be perturbed by the break in balance.

Happy Birthday to Me

Wow, 31 years old. I remeber thinking about being an adult when I was a kid. 20 was getting up there in years and 31 was just ridiculously old. I try to tell my wife that to the mind of a 10 year old, I should be wearing depends and using a walker. But she refuses to change my diapers, so I have to just keep using the toilet.

The best thing that happened to me for my birthday is finding out what gender our "Bun-in-the-oven" is. It's a girl, which is wonderful and exciting. The Boy calls her Shaak-Ti, after a female Jedi who is an amazing fighter in the Clone Wars cartoons.

Because of the beauty this little girl will undoubtedly have, I am going to start Ninja training. As a Ninja-Dad, I can track her dates, find out where they live and siletnly execute the entire family of any boy who does inappropriate things to my daughter. Just think about it, here's some punk kid putting the moves on Shaak-Ti and just as his hand starts wandering....shuriken to the eyeball....

Sure, I will have to sacrifice my current values and morals to be a Ninja, but it's worth it to defend the honor of my little Shaak-Ti.

Finish School, You Bum.

As I write this post, I hang my head in shame. I am now at a point in my life in which I am considered to be a man. Not just a man, but a man in his prime. I should be thriving in my career of choice, driving a brand-new BMW 745i, taking my child to space camp and burning dollar bills in my obscenely huge fireplace.

Alas, these dreams are not realized because I have yet to finish school.

What is a 30-year old man still doing plowing through school? Who knows? All I know is that my parents are growing weary of having an uneducated son. I was told as much by my Dad last week. Dad was very tactful and kind when he told me to finish school; but he basically said: “Finish school, you bum.” Granted he has invested a great deal in my education and deserves to call me on the mat. But, it does nothing to help my already damaged ego.

My justifications for not finishing are weak, but I attempt to use them:

- The CEO of JetBlue never finished school.
- I still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up.
- It’s difficult to balance full-time work and full-time school
- It cuts deeply into my XBOX time.

I am enrolling in school again. My resolve is tempered and solidified. I will graduate. I have established a self-serving foundation that will be used solely to get me through school. Donations can be sent to the Husky Old White Guy Scholarship Fund (HUWGSF). My next school session starts on June 8th, so donate now!

Muscles

Last Saturday I missed going to the Gym. So I decided to do some pushups and jumping jacks at home. As I started the pushups, The Boy stopped what he was doing and watched me for a second. He got down on the floor and started pumping out some toddler pushups. Toddler push-ups involve assuming the push-up pose and then moving your legs from bending to straight. I commended him on the fantastic job and told him that he was building up his muscles. I flexed my arms and showed him my muscles. He followed suit and showed me his muscles.

After a set or two of push-ups, I started doing jumping jacks. Again, The Boy observed my odd behavior. He cranked out toddler jumping jacks; in which he jumped up and down and tapped his head with his hands. Again, he showed me his muscles after the jumping jacks.

We were hungry after our rigorous work out. I poured some Multi-Grain Cheerios (the best cereal on the planet) for myself and The Boy. Initially, he didn’t want to eat it. When I told him that it was “Muscle Cereal” he ate the whole bowl vigorously.

I had a lot of fun working out with my boy. It’s nice to know that some good things I do interest him. I was worried he would only learn bad behaviors from me. He has already said some naughty words because I have shot off my foul mouth in his presence.

No Church

On Sunday, we were frantically running around the house as we prepared to go to church. My boy was sitting in front of the TV, eating cereal and occasionally watching his crazy parents. We saved getting him ready for church until the last, because it is always a legendary battle to get him dressed. On Sundays, it is an epic war to get him dressed for church.

When I brought his ‘Church-clothes’ to him and started trying to get him ready, he protested and shouted in despair: “No Church, please, no church!” A wrestling match followed, as my wife and I teamed up against the thrashing, screaming two-year old. Technically speaking, the parents were victorious. The boy was completely dressed. However his appearance was not ideal. Noah sat there, sobbing in a white button down shirt that was previously ironed, but was now wrinkled from his thrashing. It was wet around the neck and chest from the tears falling from his eyes. His pants were twisted so that the button was almost aligned with his hip and his socks were floppy.

The war did not end with the clothes battle. As we approached the defeated toddler with his church shoes, his wrath was kindled anew. “No Shoes, Boots!” He was determined to win one battle on Sunday. He wanted to wear his snow boots to church. Normally, I wouldn’t care. But it was a warm day and I knew he would be extremely hot if he wore his boots. So, a new fight commenced. Again, the parents were victorious. The boy was beside himself with anger and humiliation. We served a cold and bitter helping of indignity that caused him to seethe.

As we dragged him to church, he continued his protests. I think he knew that he lost the war, but he was letting us know that he was not happy about it. Once we were at church, his attitude changed instantly. He happily ran to some seats and sat down.

The HHC

A few years ago my friend and I started a special club, the HHC. This club has exclusive membership. We do not accept applications or petitions to join. Rather, a member of the HHC must witness a certain act or behavior in order to induct a candidate into the club.

Imagine a young husband who has been married for less than 3 years. He and his wife seem happy and hopeful. Suddenly, the husband performs a behavior or act that kills the honeymoon. This act is the pivotal moment in a married couple’s life in which the wife actually re-evaluates her decision to stay married to this poor husband. The behavior or act could include any of the following; purchasing a game console, purchasing a large TV, skipping out on a family party to play basketball with your friends, being honest about how your wife looks in a particularly bad piece of clothing, washing your red shirt with her favorite white blouse or any other number of infractions. Whatever the behavior is, it must enrage wife so much that she gets mad enough to spit fire.

I performed a great insult last week that helped solidify my status as a co-founder of the HHC. Our T.V. went on the fritz. As avid movie watchers, we needed to replace the T.V. I found a used one on Craigslist for a great deal. This new (used) T.V. was significantly larger than our old one. It was a great deal and in great shape. When I went to pick up the T.V., I could tell right away that it wouldn’t fit in our entertainment center. I called my bride and told her that the T.V. was nice, but wouldn’t fit. She told me that she would let me make the decision. I understood that she was testing me, but my desire for this shiny, fancy TV overwhelmed my common sense. I brought the thing home, hefted it atop of our entertainment center and waited for the hailstorm that would inevitably come when my wife saw this monstrosity. When she saw it, she was initially silent. She made a few off-hand comments. I could tell that I hit the wrong buttons on my wife’s patience control panel. I suffered the mental torment and guilt that comes from making someone you love angry for a few days, but not enough to return the T.V. I had pre-determined that the guilt was worth the new T.V.

HHC stands for Horrible Husbands Club. If you are a married male and you anger your spouse past the point of patience, then you too can be inducted into the HHC.