Growing a beard; Living with a comedian.

It was bound to happen – someday. Yes sir, a snow day! Schools closed early (some didn’t open at all due to the weather) and so today turned into a relaxing day for me. Sure, I corrected twenty assignments and drank more caffeine than a thirty-three year old man should have – but hey, who’s counting – especially when you have four children. 

So I started my day off with devotionals and bible readings at 6:30 a.m., which then transitioned into the normal breakfast routine and watching the children react in different dance moves, upon hearing that there was no school today. My oldest son let out my famous Texas drawl, “Ohhhhh yeahhhh,” while my oldest daughter did some kind of hamster shuffle in the middle of the living room. 

I then poured up a delicious latte in my Marvel mug,

sat back, and took it easy for a bit sleeving The Lord of the Rings: Living Card Game cards. If you are wondering what on earth I just wrote, that’s pretty much it. It’s a card game, based on The Lord of the Rings, where you fight enemies, build card decks, and pretty much play the game over and over…and over and over, with endless possibilities; cards are then produced with new game packs, and its like the game is living. For instance, last night I was playing the game and I almost beat the second scenario (which I have lost five times to date), however I keep getting pummeled by a hill troll. This time though, I actually beat the troll –  yet I died when one of my three main heroes got toasted. Even though I am constantly losing, it’s such a fun game. 

You must be wondering what is going on about today’s title – Growing a beard. Yes, it is true, I have decided to grow a beard. Not a beard like this dude…

Since I grew my little soul patch ( which I never shaved till 2022), I have always found a beard super itchy. Yet, with beard oil and determination, I have officially passed the itchy stage. So now it’s only downwards from here (see what I did there? Oh such a long day). It’s time for me to head to the next part of the blog. Wouldn’t you agree?

Living with a comedian

I have treated you folks to snippets of life in The Eason Clan home before, and I will endeavour to do such-a-thing again. In fact, this story is less than thirty minutes old. Enjoy. 

It’s bedtime. All the children are tucked away in their beds, while I sit in my chair downstairs,  resting my weary brain after a full day at home (I was actually multitasking, because I was talking to my wife on the phone) – when suddenly, I heard the dreaded sound of shuffling feet above my head- someone is out of their bed.

After all the work, time, and effort, someone has exited their bed and is doing something that most likely does not involve sleeping. And it could only be one person – Isaac. 

“Why, Isaac?” you may ask. Well it’s quite simple – the child has an inability to stay in bed after being tucked in. Whether it’s rearranging his room in the dark, hooking a noose around his Darth Vader stuffys neck,  or going to the bathroom and drinking water from a toy baby bottle (this happened last night), I pretty have it nailed down-pat that my son, my dear youngest son, will be exiting his room at some point.

Tonight was no exception. 

After hearing the feet shuffling on the floor, I stealthily made my way upstairs, tip-toeing across the floor (so as to not alert him) and quickly opened his door (to catch him in the act). There sitting on the floor with dinkies and a toy mat, was my son in his peach onesie. 

He never moved a muscle. As if, he already knew that I approached. (Enjoy the picture below from LOTR).

In fact, it was like a scene from either a crime movie, where the hero walks into the room of the Godfather, turned around and facing away, in his chair; or like the horror movie of the innocent child on the floor about to eat your face. Either way, it was creepy how he sat in silence. 

“Isaac, what are you doing?” I asked. 

He turned his head upwards to the ceiling and said quietly, “I am counting dinkies.”

Very well, then. 

“Get in bed Isaac. Or, I am taking your dinkies.”

“Fine… Fine,” and with that he hopped into his bed. Thinking that I had actually won this round, I turned to leave the room when he said quietly, “Something in here stinks.”

“What stinks?” I asked. 

“I don’t know,” he replied. 

So I walked over to the middle of the room, picked up his towel from the bathroom and told him that’s what stinks. Of course, he asked to smell it first. I brought the towel over and he took a big sniff, “Nope, not that.”

“I don’t know, Isaac, what stinks in here. I am going out.” I swore I heard him say that I stinked, however, that was quickly forgotten when he declared, “My sheets stink of pee!” 

Oh, great. He must have had an accident. So began the process of stripping the bed, getting clean sheets from the hall, and I finally started to make his bed. As I hauled out the bed to put on the fitted sheet, his head suddenly appeared by my shoulder, 

“Oh, hello,” he said, as if he just met me. 

“Hi, Isaac.”

“I’m never goin stop peeing in the bed. I can’t stop peeing, like, forever.” 

“Isaac, you can stop. You just have to stop sneaking water in the night time.” 

There was a short pause of contemplation. 

I finished his bed, got him settled away, and I laid two of his small construction-looking pillows, by the inside of the wall. 

“Nope, I want one here,” he said, pointing with his finger to the middle of his bed. 

I took the pillow and placed it there. As I straightened up to leave the room, he beckoned me to place the other pillow that was on his bed, in the same spot. He then requested his squishees be laid next to his head, asked for the song Nothing is Impossible, and then I finally closed the door. 

Lord, give me strength, with my boy who has the humour of Mr. Bean / Ernest P. Worrell. 

Until next time. 

Christian