As I looked up the definition to “Bonehead” I was struck by the fact that the word showed up in 1909. I’ve done a fair amount of family ancestry and I’ve never found anyone in my line that knew Webster. Guess I’ll have to check into my wife’s line. In any case, coming up with a title for this book took some thinking. And as you can see, it didn’t take very much.
The Bonehead News started out in 1999 as a family newsletter, outlining life in the great state of New Hampshire. From there it just sort of morphed into a compilation of weirdness that chronicles the life of two parents raising four aliens and trying to pretend that we are normal when we go out to eat.
Seriously, being a parent has been the greatest joy of my life. It has been wisely said that the most important work we will ever do will be within the walls of our own homes, and that has proven to be true over and over again. It is especially true when your children discover where mommy hides her lipstick and they paint pictures for you on the walls and on the baby, who, after being assailed by “Mocha Freeze” and “Raisin Berry” looks like some sort of freaky circus leprechaun. I’m not exactly sure that’s what President Lee meant but hey; when you’re right you’re right.
Being a parent is hard work. When my wife and I got married in 1995 we had no idea how much work went in to being a parent, nor did we know the joy that children could bring to our lives. I can honestly say that my greatest happiness has come from hearing the word “Dad”. Whether it’s “Dad will you read me a story?” or “Dad do you want to play a game with me” or “Dad do you want to go to the store and get candy?” I never tire of hearing that word. I know there will come a time when my kids will be embarrassed to admit that they’re related to me so I want to make sure that I never turn down an opportunity to be with them while they are young. That’s not to say that I don’t feel other things when I hear the word “Dad”. For instance, when I hear “Dad, Marcus (the baby) is throwing cat litter again”, I feel panicked and when I hear “Dad remember that nice cabinet that you built for mom?” I feel a sudden spike of father angst. Sometimes my kids play jokes on me, just to see what I’ll do. They think its great fun. Like the time they came running around the side of the house yelling to me that someone had thrown a baseball at our van and cracked the windshield. They watched me take off running full tilt toward the front of the house with absolute glee. Once I saw the fake baseball stuck to the windshield I knew I’d been shanghaied and my 5 year old said, “Wow Dad, you run really fast.” That day I felt angry. And I felt that someday revenge would be mine… (Insert evil laugh here)
What follows is not a story, nor is it book of sagely advice from a wizened father unless you’d consider “Lessons I’ve learned from scary movies” or “Feeding your baby is like chasing a greased pig” sagely. No, It is simply a collection of tales about my unusual family and the importance of having fun with life.