Chia Head

So a neighbor hooked me up with this sweet Chia Head. I've joked about them for years but never owned one. I admit I was pretty excited. I was going to get to plant seeds on the top of a clay scalp, water it, and watch it grow into a bushy hairdo. I actually entertained the possibility of trimming up his hair once it was all grown. Maybe hone my hair braiding skills since I'll probably need to know what I'm doing when my daughter grows up.

I read the instructions for the first time in my life. I studied them. I soaked the seeds overnight. I soaked the head in water overnight. I carefully spread the seeds onto the top, sides and back of the head. I placed the head in a sunny room and patiently waited.
See the photo on the box at the beginning of this post? Well, look how my Chia turned out. What the crud!?!? Apparently the clay is porous and this Chia Head needs to be refilled every 15 minutes, otherwise this happens. The water level drops too low and the seeds on the top of the head dry out and don't grow. Plus, his hair is pretty thin. I guess my Chia is a 60-year-old balding sex offender.

I guess I'll be able to practice a comb over.

Got a Plunger?

Last night I was perusing KSL and stumbled across a story about how this guy had been charged with 10 counts of Rape of a Child. My wife saw the headline over my shoulder and gasped. Tyton and Boston overheard her profane, muffled exclamations and asked what we were reading. We explained how this guy was a really really bad guy. So bad, in fact, that other bad guys in jail would probably beat him up.

Tyton started asking follow up questions about what he'd done that was so bad. I sat down on the kitchen floor and told my boys that he'd done very mean things to children. I also explained how if he'd done anything to MY kids I'd cut off his ears and shove them in his mouth. My boys started laughing hysterically and then started trying to come up with more creative punishments... which wasn't exactly what I had in mind.

We ended up deciding that the worst punishment of all would be if we all went poo and pee in our upstairs toilet and then we could put him into the toilet head first and all take turns flushing the toilet and jumping on him until he was completely flushed. Boston laughed and said, "But he's too big." Then Tyton said, in all seriousness, "He'd clog it up for sure. Then we'd have to use the downstairs toilet." Good point, buddy. Good point.

Live Animal Trap

Ever since we've gotten rid of our dog, we've had a wild cat infestation in our backyard. I've seen 3 cats at the same time in our backyard. My wife thinks they're cute for the most part, but I step in poo a couple times a week. For a while I thought it was raccoon poo. Then someone told me that wild cats don't bury their poo cause that's how they mark their territory. I don't know why they can't just pee. Obviously, no wild cat has ever moved into a rental property where the previous owner had cats. If they had... they'd know how strong and offensive their own pee really is and maybe they'd decide that was good enough.

I went to Smith and Edwards and asked the lady working in Sporting Goods if they had a Cat Trap I could purchase. With a look of shocked disgust, she replied, "A CAT trap? Um... no. But we DO have a Raccoon Trap right over there." I was a little confused over why she'd respond with such disgust. I figured she was simply a cat lover. When I saw the device, I noticed it was actually called a Live Animal Trap. Funny enough, there were three animal photos on the side of the box. A photo of a raccoon. A photo of a cat. And a photo of an armadillo or aardvark or something. I'm actually not sure what the difference is between an armadillo and aardvark. So apparently, the name of the trap changes depending on what it is you're looking to trap. The lady didn't want to think about the raccoon trap accidentally catching a cat... even though that's exactly what I was trying to catch. And since the makers of the trap decided to include the photo of the armadillo, I suppose those animals are a nuisance somewhere in the world.

So over the last three weeks I've put out this cat trap just to see if any animal would be stupid enough to walk into a metal cage just to get a chunk of hot dog. So far, 12 cats and 2 raccoons have been dumb enough. I heard two cats fighting earlier today so I know there are still at least two more up there in my trees.

Yes. It is.

Telephone conversation I had three minutes ago:

Offender: Hey Daley. I'm gonna be a few minutes late for our appointment.

Me: Did you talk with that detective then?

Offender: Yeah. I just got done.

Me: So he didn't arrest you, I take it. Are they still gonna charge you with Rape?

Offender: I don't know. He said it sounded like it was consensual.

Me: But she was your half-sister. They might charge you with Incest.

Offender: Is that a crime?

Me: (pause) Yes. It is.

Offender: Well, I guess they could then.

Me: How about you come into my office and talk with me.

Anomaly?

I worked for Layton City Police Department for a little while about seven years ago. Ultimately, I quit and came back to work for Adult Probation and Parole, but I learned several valuable lessons while I was employed there and I learned a lot about myself, as well. The biggest thing I learned about myself is that I have absolutely no idea (nor do I care to learn) what the makes and/or models of cars look like.

At the end of my first month with Layton PD, I was driving around with my trainer and he started to quiz me on makes and models of cars. I honestly had no idea. The best I could do was tell him the color and how many doors the cars had. That was the extent of my vehicular knowledge.

My trainer seemed surprised at the time... especially when I showed him how awesome I was at The Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon game. He kept telling me to forget all the useless crap about actors and actresses and replace it with car information. I kept trying to explain to him that I felt like car info was "useless". I mean, honestly, who else besides law enforcement people even CARE about the makes and models of cars?

The answer to that question, according to my friend, John... is "everyone". John seems to think that 90% of guys between the ages of 18 and 35 could look at five cars lined up and be able to tell you the make of the vehicle... and in most cases... even the model.

It wasn't until a few years ago that I even knew the difference between "make" and "model". I'm so extremely ignorant about cars that I have a hard time believing that 90% of men would care as much as John seems to think they do. I think a more accurate number would be 50-60%. I think it's fair to say I'm not as much of an anomaly as John claims. There's no way I'm a 1 in 10. I'm more like a 1 in 3.

I've been asked this question a lot as well: "If you could own any car in the world, what would you want?" My answer is a Honda Element. Why? Cause they look pretty cool, I guess. The funny thing is, if you were to line up a Honda Element with 4 other similar looking SUV's... I'm only KINDA sure I could pick it out.

By the way, John... I may not be able to tell you what the make or model of a car is, but I'll always be right more often than you if the question comes down to the color of the car.

"Just Don't Be Mean..."

Tyton is in kindergarten. He has about 20 or so kids in his class and Tyton is one of the smartest and funniest kids in his class. So... pretty much the complete opposite
of me when I was in school.

He's enrolled in a Charter school and it requires a certain number of volunteer hours each month by the parents so I've had the opportunity to get to know his classmates more than my parents ever got to know my own classmates when I was little.

The other day I went with Tyton to one of his extracurricular activities with his peers. Every time we saw one of his female classmates, I'd hear them yell, "Tyton! Hey Tyton!" We'd both look toward them and she'd wave with a huge smile on her face. Nobody smiled at me like that until I was 17. Tyton would smile shyly and wave back. A few times I actually sensed the girls fathers glaring at Tyton and I... kinda like they were mentally preparing for 10 years from now when Ty takes advantage of his daughter.

The saddest and most entertaining part is, every time this would happen I'd lean down to Tyton and whisper in his ear, "Who's that?" Every time he'd answer, "She's in my class." Then I'd ask, "What's her name?" He'd shrug his shoulders every single time. He has no idea who most of the girls are in his class, but I got the distinct impression that they ALL know who he is. What a stud.

So now here's the dilemma. Tyton has a kid in his class who is very very slow. My wife and I helped out with P.E. a couple of weeks ago and it was the first time I'd seen this kid in action. The students were doing somersaults on a color mat and when it was this kids turn he would do one somersault and then rest for 15 full seconds before doing another one. I thought maybe he was just dizzy and needed to reorient himself, but even if that was the case... it's still sad. He's worse than Paul Pheiffer on The Wonder Years. Betsy and I have been wondering what kind of advice to give to Tyton.

Last Friday when I picked Tyton up from school, he told me about how this classmate of his was standing in front of the class doing his show-and-tell (which, sadly enough, was a McDonalds Happy Meal toy) when a different classmate yelled "It's leaking!" referring to the toy. Well, unfortunately, the toy wasn't leaking. The boy was wetting his pants.

Geez. That poor kid. Ultimately, Betsy and I have told Tyton that he doesn't need to try to to be his best friend or anything as long as he's never mean to him. We've just been trying to stress to Tyton that it's important to never ever be mean. We thought briefly about trying to get Tyton to befriend him, but I don't think six is old enough to feel that kind of pressure. But maybe it is. Maybe he's old enough to accept that much responsibility. But I, personally, think Tyton should first be able to swim, do a front flip on a trampoline, or at the very least open his own GoGurt without help before he's burdened with trying to be friends with someone he isn't naturally drawn to.

The Shocking Illegible Conclusion

Again... I apologize for my choice to write in cursive for the last few pages. If you need any help translating, let me know what you're struggling with and I'll tell you what it says.

Also, plan on this post taking you at least twice as long to read as the other ones. Yup... it's THAT hard.