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Family life

Sasquatch…..

It has been said that women are from Venus and men are from Mars, but nobody has hazarded a guess yet regarding the origin of adolescents. I figure it’s better to leave well enough alone, so I’ll not try to figure it out.

But I do recall posing the question on more than one occasion back in the day. Take Sasquatch, for example. A fine young man today, if I do say so myself, but in order to arrive at that state of affairs, he, and his parents, had to meander through the gauntlet of his adolescence.

At 18, Sasquatch was a self-proclaimed brilliant master of finance, psychology, food preparation, landscaping, carpentry, plumbing, electrical engineering, interior decoration, stunt driving, fashion, and human sexuality among myriad other philosophies and sciences. He would freely offer instructions to anyone within earshot regarding how they should conduct themselves during those pursuits, especially those with any real life experience in any of those areas such as people who were over 30 and of the parental persuasion.

I recall one morning when I was sitting at the breakfast table diligently balancing the triple tasks of navigating a forkful of fried eggs into my mouth, doing the crossword puzzle, and keeping a weather eye on the feline paw that would periodically appear from the hidden reaches of Under-table-land for another stab at snagging a rasher of bacon from my plate.

Sasquatch ambled into the kitchen, belched, farted, and said “Good morning”. At least he was polite about it. Normally he would have said “How come you’re sitting in my chair?….I always sit there”.

I returned the greeting, sans body noises, and lightly admonished him for the musical accompaniment. He gave me one of those puzzled “gawd, what an idiot” looks and somehow managed to successfully balance 32 ounces of Amazingly Nutritious Captain Snappy’s Rainbow Sugar Coated Little Donuts and Stars Cereal in a 12 ounce bowl where he would soon attempt to insinuate the better half of a quart of milk and a banana.

Having worn the mantle of Adolescent Male one time myself, I was well aware of the significance and value of an extensive repertoire of finely tuned and artfully executed body noises, as well as the futility of launching World War III over the matter of a minor issue, if you will, of thoughtless flatulence.

I thought about one of the earlier testosterone test runs a few years before when I had boldly announced “There’s only room for ONE king in this castle, Bub, and you ain’t it….”. That morning at the breakfast table I wondered how long it would be until he decided to make another stab at King of the Mountain, all six feet four inches, two hundred and twenty pound of him, and who might throw whom over the moat if it came to that.

Fortunately, as is usually the case I suppose, Sasquatch set his sights on higher goals and headed across the moat under his own steam to seek his fortune, and also in typical form he tried to WALK across the moat instead of using the existing bridge, so to speak. Noisy, messy, irrational, and against all odds, which I swear he intentionally stacked against himself, he succeeded.

Of course.

*****

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