I never open them. I have no strong opinion about them either way. However, watching my oldest daughter open and read through them got me thinking about what types of things I would write if I were to author a few fortune cookies myself…
Kids Change Everything. That one seems pretty self explanatory. We didn’t plan either one of our kids and the period between when I first heard “I’m pregnant” and Harrison’s birth was not enough time for me to wrap my head around the magnitude of that statement. Life will never be the same. It’s all about the kids.
Don’t Ask The Question Unless You Wanna Hear The Answer. I get so sick of being the asshole when all I’m doing is answering the question you asked me, in a truthful manner.
People Who Say Money Can’t Buy Happiness Are Idiots. I’m constantly checking price tags everywhere I go. I think about future expenses all the time. Check my bank account at least once a day. Work my ass off, especially around the holidays, for no other reason than the paycheck and what it provides my family. Are you really gonna tell me I’d be less happy if I didn’t have to worry about, and do, all those things? Simply not having the stress of worrying about money would make me happy.
A ‘Thank You’ Goes A Long Way. There’s never a bad time to say thank you. If I get a thank you after doing something instinctual, no matter how small or relevant it may be, I feel appreciated. I view the person who is saying the thank you as respectful, courteous, and unselfish. It lets me know they care about actual human decency. So when our kids are playing together they’ll be hearing parents say all sorts of ‘please’ and ‘thank you’s’ in the background, being told to share, be nice, etc. Instead of heads buried in their phones, cussing, and not paying attention, etc. Thank you feels good to both the person saying and receiving it. Now that I have kids, those two words symbolize so much more to me.
A Good Regular Season Record Means Nothing. You gotta bring it in the post season. Just ask the 2001 Mariners, 2007 Patriots, 2015-2016 Warriors. Not to mention the 1998 Vikings.
Two Peanuts Were Walking Down The Road, One Of Them Was Assaulted. This is just a joke I love that nobody else in my family laughs at but me.
You Can Never Be Too Humble. If I had the option of being humble about anything, I would. I’ve just never been good enough or smart enough to be humble about anything. The smartest man in the room is often the most silent. My uncle Rich is an example of this. My father is another. I have a couple good friends like that too. They are the ones I like to talk to the most. I always try to pry information out of them. There’s a certain aura of attraction that follows around a humble person. They’re secure in their knowledge or ability, and have the discipline to never take the bait of the ignorant. Winning an argument and getting the last word in is never of importance.
Embrace Your Taste In Music. I love older music. 80’s and 90’s pop and country, even some rap, classic rock and roll, and oldies. I walk around the house singing all sorts of crap from those eras. I’ve never heard a Drake song in my life. When anything new on the music front is brought up I almost never get the reference, whether that be artist or song. Chloe started listening to 80’s and 90’s rock with me awhile back, and now she’s taken it to a whole new level. I like Backstreet Boys, Tiffany, Tupac, the Temptations, and Debbie Gibson. She likes Nirvana, the Beatles, Boston, Beach Boys, ELO, Elton John, Fleetwood Mac, ABBA, and a host of others. It’s all she listens to now. Every night when she’s cleaning up the kitchen you can set your clock to it. I’m sure she would’ve found this sort of music on her own eventually, but I like to think I cracked open the door for her. I love bubble gum pop music and I’ve never worried about what others think of that. I’ll sing all the hits out loud. It’s great that my daughter has found her genre. She’s sort of on the Hippie side of music and style. She talks about wanting to get a van when she gets her license. Music has taken her places. She’s embracing it. That’s the only way to do it. Who’s to say what makes one song sound good to me and absolutely dreadful to someone else. Just go with it. In the words of Survivor: The search is over, you were with me all the while.
Pick A Few Things You’re Interested In And Get Really Really Good At Them. I suggest mechanics. I’ve spent thousands of dollars on repairs around the house and car trouble. Knowing how to do it myself would be nice. Pretty much anything you pick will provide benefits. I can’t think of one disadvantage to knowing how to do something well.
Your Kids Are Gonna Drive You Crazy. Can I get a moment? A moment to finish what I’m doing. A moment to eat. A moment to read a text, email, or news story. Give me a minute for God’s sake. The apple juice you are desperately requesting while violently tugging on my pant leg will still be there in 2 minutes. Can you wait 2 minutes? Any chance you can wait those two minutes over there, on the couch, in silence? Why am I on my third pair of prescription glasses? These things are expensive. Please don’t pull them off my face, or desk, and play with them. Not a toy. Speaking of which, where the hell are my car keys? I saw you playing with them yesterday and let it go to keep you occupied. I didn’t urgently need them then. Why do you shout at me to call Grandpa Hawk and Gram Leeann all day and sit there dead silent when I finally do? I need a nap, any chance you want to join me? Darn, guess I’ll try again tomorrow. No, we’re not watching that again…There are other things on TV besides BLIPPI. How is it that you poop on the potty every single time on your own, but your pamper is literally dripping with urine right now? That $100 dollar toy has been sitting over there in that corner, untouched, for a couple weeks…glad you like playing with my phone and TV remote so much. Why does this make you laugh? Why did that make you laugh? What are you saying? You were dozing off at 7:30, how are you still up at 11? ‘But he did it to me first!!!’ Yep. By the way, you’re 12 and he’s 3. He doesn’t know any better. Why are you cheating at Hungry Hungry Hippos? Why do you hate taking a shower but love playing in the rain? I don’t care what Grammy said. Why the hell is Grammy telling them that? And all totally worth it.
