Boys' Club

Yesterday we celebrated Christmas at the home of The Veteran. He is back in the states on a family hardship something-or-other involving his wife and their own personal business which I won't go into here. Not that I'm complaining. I think two tours of Iraq are more than plenty for anybody, and serving the rest of that 18-month third tour here at home is fine and dandy with me. Not that I was consulted or anything.

He just bought a house for his new family. He got married at the end of July, and has two kids now. Not that he works that fast or anything. They were a package deal. So anyhoo...we met up with HH's other son, The Veteran's brother, and his not-quite-wife and five kids. Don't even ask me to explain this one. Your collective heads would be spinning. I don't know if I really have a point here except that we went to their house and unwrapped gifts, and HH's boys shot my boy's Nerf-like 20-round Tommy gun at one of the small fry after telling him to lift his shirt. He didn't know any better. He's only three. The four-year-old closed himself up in the bedroom when he heard that shirt-lifting command. Apparently, he's played the 'dart game' before. And the 'lick the battery' game, according to his brother. Then all the boys had a wrestle-royale on the living room floor. That includes The Veteran, who won. Go figure. He's only 20 years older than them.

The #1 son tried on The Veteran's helmet, because they got to arguing about whose head was the biggest. You see, HH is known for his 50-lb. bowling ball head. That's what I call it, anyway. The Veteran could not get a helmet to fit on his first tour. He had to take the biggest one they could find, and take out all the padding. He said it took them almost two years to get him a helmet that fit with the stuff that belonged in it. So he put that giant helmet on the #1 son, and it fit like it was custom made. Then he tried on the vest thingy with all those plates in pockets around it that are supposed to save your life or something. The Veteran said he didn't have in the thingys that go on the sides like at the ribs under the armpit area. He said the full gear weighs about 70 pounds. That's more than The Pony weighs.

Today I had a discussion with HH about Brett Favre. OK, some may call it an argument. You be the judge. HH was talking about the game we were watching, and he kept saying 'Brett Far'. Of course I had to correct him. To save him future embarrassment, as that girl told me when she corrected my pronunciation of 'lunar' in class. Anyhoo, HH said that's how the announcers say it. I told him no, they were saying 'Brett FARVE', which is the pronunciation. HH went so far as to tell me it was on his jersey. I said, "Yeah. FAVRE". Then HH declared that there was no 'V' in the name, and if you look at Brett's jersey, you can clearly see a 'Y', not a 'V'. So now I don't know if HH thinks Brett's name is 'Far' or 'Fary', if you keep with the pronunciation of 'Favre' that is 'FARVE'.

HH. He's killin' me. OH SO SLOWLY.