Hellooooo Everyone! I hope you have all enjoyed your summer. I apologize for not providing some laughs over the last 2 months, and the reasoning for my busy butt will follow in the ensuing posts, but for today let’s just get right back into shit.

Allow me to share with you the events of Sunday the 4th, 2016 and further reveal how a dumb bitch in the park ignited my family’s unity and gift of a zen-like sapience. Before I proceed, please understand it is vital to accept that I am not one to just throw out derogatory terms to describe human beings, however there are always extenuating circumstances in life, hence the Bitch in the park.

My family awoke to a marvelous morning- it was gorgeous outside with unusually warmer temps than as of late. The weather remained  equally phenomenal throughout the day and the evening as well. With such a nice day ahead, my wife and I impulsively decided to take the kids to a park no more than 25 minutes from our home. The park is equipped with practically anything for play in an effort to keep all kids active. The park is open to the public and the layout is widely spread in a fashion that eliminates the possibility for large crowds to form in any area. Our kids love the bike parks they have there- One of the bike parks consists of dirt cross tracks with jumps and so forth,  and the other one is the the ramp park. The ramp park is meant for kids on skateboards, trick scooters, bikes and roller blades etc…. There is a sign that states the rules and pretty much all devices constructed with wheels are allowed. We  arrived at the park around 10:30 with bikes and picnic gear. The boys headed straight for the dirt cross park as soon as I unloaded everything from the car. The girls were also soon in tow as my wife and I settled into  a nice spot to set up shop. It was simply all just chill. The kids were off on their bikes and my wife an I watched in a relaxed state. I even had a chance to play some one on one basketball with my oldest son. No complaints.

As I was wrapping up the game with my son – I noticed a minor commotion over at the ramp park where my other 3 children were currently zooming around. I noticed a lady raising her voice whilst constantly throwing her arms in the air as if to say “WTF”. If I’m being honest I don’t remember being sure if she actually was a woman or not. It was difficult to tell from afar as her fucked up apparel didn’t aid in revealing the sex of the human being wearing them. She wore, and this is from memory here, long ass baggy shorts of a dark gray tone that was either birthed with that color or had not been changed since 1966.. And Oh yes, forgive  me for omitting that the woman was a bit older, late 50’s or even early 60’s. She wore a backwards hat over a side headed shave and some other baggy shit not limited to a yellow top eerily resembling 200 hundred sewn together orange peels. Let me stop for a moment. For the sake of clarity, yes, I am commenting negatively about someone’s clothes, but it comes as post judgmentally. She flared her arms in disbelief that the other kids  in the park “supposedly” got in her way as she was trying to skateboard. Skateboard? I Love a granny who’ll do anything and live her life to the fullest, but this lady’s attitude became progressively worse and worse towards children while her own grandson was standing idly by with embarrassment, only wishing to get on with skating himself.  She ultimately came over to the fence where I was standing with my wife and some other parents. She uttered things in a cunty tone mixed with hippie flair, such as “hey man, why are those kids in the park with bikes?, I’m trying to skate here man”, and “man, why don’t you take  them to the  bike path or the tennis courts?”.  She continued on with interrogatively snobbish queries. When posed with questions reaping with such intelligence I generally find amusement in responding, not to mention that I wanted my kids to know that silence is not always required. Especially if you’re dealing with a classic muff-face.

I answered her with several replies, never omitting the truth. “The tennis courts don’t allow bikes, the bike path is actually a walking path with a lot of stones and very difficult for our youngest to ride with training wheels, and also that the very ramp park your “attempting ” to skate in is also allows the use of bicycles. With your skill lady, I wouldn’t worry about any damage to your Olympic skating career.” Another father, a skater in fact, also chimed in and explained to this woman that his son came with a bike as they know the park allows it. Two other families who’s children were on bikes decided to vacate the park and elude the fuss as the wanna be hippie became further void of any reason. Although she used hippie lingo her spirit was anything but free. I told all of my children, with the bitch listening,  to keep riding in the park and not be intimidated to stop and certainly not to feel uncomfortable just because as stranger tells you crazy shit. Realizing that 4 of the 15 kids in the park were mine, she condescendingly advised me “that the park was not to be  used as a daycare.” I merely informed her that her demonstrated skating experience should be better suited for her driveway at home. This was not a life altering issue, but I could see that my kids needed to see some strong guidance. The bitch could barely tic-tac her board yet  that very inexperience was invaluable to the family bonding that was about to take place.

After another 10 minutes of riding the kids grew hungry  so we commenced with the picnic in our spot which was situated about 15 yards from the ramp park. Miss beaver clicker was still quacking away even as she carried on with her mastery of the ramps. I had to excuse myself for a moment and as I returned in the direction of our picnic site it was difficult not to notice my family sitting there. They were all eating their sandwiches and in deep observation of the gastly woman we had just tangled with as she sought out her quest to become one with Tony Hawk. I approached them and asked my wife a question whilst impersonating the same voice with which the “Potato with legs” used, “hey man, gotta sandwich for me?”. They all started laughing. My 10 year old daughter said “papa, she was really stupid huh?” I agreed. Just then my 8  year old son almost spit out his food as he declared the news that the bitch just wiped out. We all giggled. My wife was angry that such a pleasant setting designed for children was being diluted by Bitch in the park. My wife stated something along the lines of “I wonder if those are her boobs or his balls”! My 14 year old added “her boobs exert dust berries”. We had no idea what he meant but we still laughed like crazy. And although I definitely don’t usually condone this type of behavior towards others,  I let them continue. My family had officially gone dark. Although we were, in that moment, perhaps not the most morally high bound human beings, we were a harmonious family and stood as one. Our jokes and one liners crossed many boundaries yet we all made sure to speak  quietly enough for no one else to hear. However our laughter reached decibels high enough to invite looks from all around. I quietly leaned over to my wife and asked if we were bad parents for enjoying a family picnic while making less than supportive comments at the expense of another human being, not to mention with our children. She replied with an affirmative, we both laughed and continued to come up with funny shit with our kids to say about the bitch in the park. We would normally not stoop so low, yet  on that day we couldn’t help ourselves.

As the afternoon sky kept our backs warm, the bitch  kept spewing her frustrations for all to hear while frequently wiping out all over the place. We simply delighted in the failures of that rolling “Apple Dumpling”. My family was united, knowing full well the difference between right and wrong, good and evil, yet ignoring the rules for a moment and playing with the gray area of life…..realizing that not all is black and white.  So my family is a bit off sometimes,  however that is a trait I wouldn’t trade for anything.

The car ride home was quiet. No one complained. There wasn’t any teasing. No special requests surfaced. Every one of my family members were looking out of the window, lost in deep thought and half a smile.  My eight year  old looked up and spoke the  following words, “I bet that lady has a huge bird’s nest in her pants”, referring to her “bushel”. Mass hysteria ensued……  Priceless.