“The Chill” has come. This morning, I was uncomfortable as I trundled the garbage containers out to the street. The trash man comes every Thursday about 9am, and as I took the containers out front for him to dump, I felt like I needed a jacket.
My understanding is that it will warm up in a day or two, so this chill won’t last long, but it won’t be long until a front blows through and the cold just hangs on for the rest of the winter. We then can look forward to the few Indian Summer-type days that are left in this fall, and later on the first warm days of spring.
Winters aren’t as much fun for me as they used to be. I dunno. When we were younger, we were much more invincible, and a fall on the ice or shoveling snow wasn’t such a big deal. Now, we have to be careful of falls (fractures, you know), and shoveling snow can mean heart conditions and more. Driving is also much less an adventure and much more of a thing to be endured. Somehow, maturity brings with it the knowledge that anything can happen out there, and every time we go out there and come back with nothing happening, we rejoice that we have once more conquered…something.
In any event, winter will be here whether we want it to come or not, and along with it the inevitable and sometimes interminable holidays, blahs, and claustrophobia. Welcome spring!!
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Amazing Love
It never ceases to amaze me; the older I get the more fascinated I become. I’m talking of those couples that we all know who love one-another truly in sickness and in health. Those couples of whom one of the two develops some devastating, incurable illness (such as Alzheimer’s Disease) and the other faithfully and lovingly cares for the other, even though the healthy person, too, is even then grieving over the loss.
It happened at our church recently. And older couple—Bob and Enid—had been together for 61 years. Enid developed Alzheimer’s some time back. Bob himself is on the older side of life, and could not care for her himself. However, he brought her to church, had a care-giver for her, and provided for her as no one else could.
When we first came to church there, he introduced Enid to me as his lovely and wonderful wife, even though she probably didn’t have any idea where she was or what was going on. When the communion was passed, they made sure she was able to taste the bread and the wine. They sat together, along with Enid’s care-giver, and Bob was always watching out for her.
I don’t know Bob and Enid well, as we’ve just moved to the community. But in my experiences in health care, I’ve seen that same dedication and devotion to a spouse time after time. It’s enough to make a grown man cry, and I sometimes do.
Daily visits to the nursing home where one may be residing, bathing, grooming, visiting, taking on outings, and a myriad of other activities are undertaken by both as they are able. They sit, they visit, they hold hands, they kiss. And even though one of the two usually has some form of dementia, the fire of love is still there, traveling between them, continuing to burn—yet not consume.
I am reminded of God’s promise to us, “I will never leave you or forsake you.” Each time I see a couple in a situation like I’ve described, I’m again reminded that true love never, never, ever fails.
It happened at our church recently. And older couple—Bob and Enid—had been together for 61 years. Enid developed Alzheimer’s some time back. Bob himself is on the older side of life, and could not care for her himself. However, he brought her to church, had a care-giver for her, and provided for her as no one else could.
When we first came to church there, he introduced Enid to me as his lovely and wonderful wife, even though she probably didn’t have any idea where she was or what was going on. When the communion was passed, they made sure she was able to taste the bread and the wine. They sat together, along with Enid’s care-giver, and Bob was always watching out for her.
I don’t know Bob and Enid well, as we’ve just moved to the community. But in my experiences in health care, I’ve seen that same dedication and devotion to a spouse time after time. It’s enough to make a grown man cry, and I sometimes do.
Daily visits to the nursing home where one may be residing, bathing, grooming, visiting, taking on outings, and a myriad of other activities are undertaken by both as they are able. They sit, they visit, they hold hands, they kiss. And even though one of the two usually has some form of dementia, the fire of love is still there, traveling between them, continuing to burn—yet not consume.
I am reminded of God’s promise to us, “I will never leave you or forsake you.” Each time I see a couple in a situation like I’ve described, I’m again reminded that true love never, never, ever fails.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Just A Little Bit
I am offering the following, which came in an email. I don’t know who wrote this, or who the people are in the story. However, true or not, the story makes a valid and good point. I commend it to you.
Some years ago, I walked into my office after a Sunday morning service to find a sandwich bag on my desk containing three chocolate brownies. Some thoughtful and anonymous person who knew my love for chocolate had placed them there, along with a piece of paper that had a short story written on it. I immediately sat down and began eating the first brownie as I read the following story.
Two teenagers asked their father if they could go the theater to watch a movie that all their friends had seen. After reading some reviews about the movie on the internet, he denied their request. "Aw dad, why not?" they complained. "It's rated PG-13, and we're both older than thirteen!"
Dad replied: "Because that movie contains nudity and portrays immorality as being normal and acceptable behavior."
"But dad, those are just very small parts of the movie! That's what our friends who've seen it have told us. The movie is two hours long and those scenes are just a few minutes of the total film! It's based on a true story, and good triumphs over evil, and there are other redeeming themes like courage and self-sacrifice. Even the movie review websites say that!"
"My answer is 'no,' and that is my final answer. You are welcome to stay home tonight, invite some of your friends over, and watch one of the good videos we have in our home collection. But you will not go and watch that film. End of discussion."
The two teenagers walked dejectedly into the family room and slumped down on the couch. As they sulked, they were surprised to hear the sounds of their father preparing something in the kitchen. They soon recognized the wonderful aroma of brownies baking in the oven, and one of the teenagers said to the other, "Dad must be feeling guilty, and now he's going to try to make it up to us with some fresh brownies. Maybe we can soften him with lots of praise when he brings them out to us and persuade him to let us go to that movie after all."
About that time I began eating the second brownie from the sandwich bag and wondered if there was some connection to the brownies I was eating and the brownies in the story. I kept reading. The teens were not disappointed. Soon their father appeared with a plate of warm brownies, which he offered to his kids. They each took one. Then their father said, "Before you eat, I want to tell you something: I love you both so much." The teenagers smiled at each other with knowing glances. Dad was softening.
"That is why I've made these brownies with the very best ingredients. I've made them from scratch. Most of the ingredients are even organic - the best organic flour, the best free-range eggs, the best organic sugar, premium vanilla and chocolate." The brownies looked mouth-watering, and the teens began to become a little impatient with their dad's long speech.
"But I want to be perfectly honest with you. There is one ingredient I added that is not usually found in brownies. I got that ingredient from our own back yard. But you needn't worry, because I only added the tiniest bit of that ingredient to your brownies. The amount of the portion is practically insignificant. So go ahead, take a bite and let me know what you think."
Dad, would you mind telling us what that mystery ingredient is before we eat?"
"Why? The portion I added was so small, just a teaspoonful. You won't even taste it."
"Come on, dad; just tell us what that ingredient is."
"Don't worry! It is organic, just like the other ingredients."
"Dad!"
"Well, OK, if you insist. That secret ingredient is organic...dog poop."
I immediately stopped chewing that second brownie and I spit it out into the wastebasket by my desk. I continued reading, now fearful of the paragraphs that still remained.
Both teens instantly dropped their brownies back on the plate and began inspecting their fingers with horror. "DAD! Why did you do that? You've tortured us by making us smell those brownies cooking for the last half hour, and now you tell us that you added dog poop! We can't eat these brownies!"
"Why not? The amount of dog poop is very small compared to the rest of the ingredients. It won't hurt you It's been cooked right along with the other ingredients. You won't even taste it. It has the same consistency as the brownies. Go ahead and eat!"
"No, Dad...NEVER!"
"And that is the same reason I won't allow you to go watch that movie. You won't tolerate a little dog poop in your brownies, so why should you tolerate a little immorality in your movies? We pray that God will not lead us unto temptation, so how can we in good conscience entertain ourselves with something that will imprint a sinful image in our minds that will lead us into temptation long after we first see it?" I discarded what remained of the second brownie as well as the entire untouched third brownie. What had been irresistible a minute go had become detestable. And only because of the very slim chance that what I was eating was slightly polluted. (Surely it wasn't...but I couldn't convince myself.)
What a good lesson about purity! Why do we tolerate any sin, even in small amounts?
Some years ago, I walked into my office after a Sunday morning service to find a sandwich bag on my desk containing three chocolate brownies. Some thoughtful and anonymous person who knew my love for chocolate had placed them there, along with a piece of paper that had a short story written on it. I immediately sat down and began eating the first brownie as I read the following story.
Two teenagers asked their father if they could go the theater to watch a movie that all their friends had seen. After reading some reviews about the movie on the internet, he denied their request. "Aw dad, why not?" they complained. "It's rated PG-13, and we're both older than thirteen!"
Dad replied: "Because that movie contains nudity and portrays immorality as being normal and acceptable behavior."
"But dad, those are just very small parts of the movie! That's what our friends who've seen it have told us. The movie is two hours long and those scenes are just a few minutes of the total film! It's based on a true story, and good triumphs over evil, and there are other redeeming themes like courage and self-sacrifice. Even the movie review websites say that!"
"My answer is 'no,' and that is my final answer. You are welcome to stay home tonight, invite some of your friends over, and watch one of the good videos we have in our home collection. But you will not go and watch that film. End of discussion."
The two teenagers walked dejectedly into the family room and slumped down on the couch. As they sulked, they were surprised to hear the sounds of their father preparing something in the kitchen. They soon recognized the wonderful aroma of brownies baking in the oven, and one of the teenagers said to the other, "Dad must be feeling guilty, and now he's going to try to make it up to us with some fresh brownies. Maybe we can soften him with lots of praise when he brings them out to us and persuade him to let us go to that movie after all."
About that time I began eating the second brownie from the sandwich bag and wondered if there was some connection to the brownies I was eating and the brownies in the story. I kept reading. The teens were not disappointed. Soon their father appeared with a plate of warm brownies, which he offered to his kids. They each took one. Then their father said, "Before you eat, I want to tell you something: I love you both so much." The teenagers smiled at each other with knowing glances. Dad was softening.
"That is why I've made these brownies with the very best ingredients. I've made them from scratch. Most of the ingredients are even organic - the best organic flour, the best free-range eggs, the best organic sugar, premium vanilla and chocolate." The brownies looked mouth-watering, and the teens began to become a little impatient with their dad's long speech.
"But I want to be perfectly honest with you. There is one ingredient I added that is not usually found in brownies. I got that ingredient from our own back yard. But you needn't worry, because I only added the tiniest bit of that ingredient to your brownies. The amount of the portion is practically insignificant. So go ahead, take a bite and let me know what you think."
Dad, would you mind telling us what that mystery ingredient is before we eat?"
"Why? The portion I added was so small, just a teaspoonful. You won't even taste it."
"Come on, dad; just tell us what that ingredient is."
"Don't worry! It is organic, just like the other ingredients."
"Dad!"
"Well, OK, if you insist. That secret ingredient is organic...dog poop."
I immediately stopped chewing that second brownie and I spit it out into the wastebasket by my desk. I continued reading, now fearful of the paragraphs that still remained.
Both teens instantly dropped their brownies back on the plate and began inspecting their fingers with horror. "DAD! Why did you do that? You've tortured us by making us smell those brownies cooking for the last half hour, and now you tell us that you added dog poop! We can't eat these brownies!"
"Why not? The amount of dog poop is very small compared to the rest of the ingredients. It won't hurt you It's been cooked right along with the other ingredients. You won't even taste it. It has the same consistency as the brownies. Go ahead and eat!"
"No, Dad...NEVER!"
"And that is the same reason I won't allow you to go watch that movie. You won't tolerate a little dog poop in your brownies, so why should you tolerate a little immorality in your movies? We pray that God will not lead us unto temptation, so how can we in good conscience entertain ourselves with something that will imprint a sinful image in our minds that will lead us into temptation long after we first see it?" I discarded what remained of the second brownie as well as the entire untouched third brownie. What had been irresistible a minute go had become detestable. And only because of the very slim chance that what I was eating was slightly polluted. (Surely it wasn't...but I couldn't convince myself.)
What a good lesson about purity! Why do we tolerate any sin, even in small amounts?
Monday, September 18, 2006
Thank God
I’ve only seen it twice. A girl comes to our facility with her parents/friends/relatives and moves in to the cottage. After a get-acquainted period which includes some signing of forms, introductions, a tour of the place, and a conversation with the caregivers, it’s time for Mom/Dad/Sis/Aunt/Grandpa to go and leave the girl behind.
I’ll never probably get over it. There is reluctance to leave and a long good-by; there are hugs and tears. Burly dads tear up as easily as feminine moms. And it works on me…the knowledge that they are leaving their loved one in our charge…in the home of stranger...hopeful that we can work some kind of magic that was absent until now.
It’s a time for me to stop, too, and reflect on what I’m doing and why. It’s a time for me to be at once thankful that people care enough to make a place like this a reality and angry that there exists a need for a facility of this kind at all.
It happened again yesterday. Chari (not her real name) came to stay with us. For awhile. For an undetermined time. Until she’s able to put the past behind her and learns to cope with the onrushing future. It will happen again...and again.
As long as there needs to be a place like this, it will happen. Dad will tear up and Auntie will cry aloud. Mom will long for one more hug and Grandpa will once again be the strong one for the family, as he once was years ago.
Thank God for places like this. Thank God for grandpas. And thank God that one day we won't need a place like this anymore.
I’ll never probably get over it. There is reluctance to leave and a long good-by; there are hugs and tears. Burly dads tear up as easily as feminine moms. And it works on me…the knowledge that they are leaving their loved one in our charge…in the home of stranger...hopeful that we can work some kind of magic that was absent until now.
It’s a time for me to stop, too, and reflect on what I’m doing and why. It’s a time for me to be at once thankful that people care enough to make a place like this a reality and angry that there exists a need for a facility of this kind at all.
It happened again yesterday. Chari (not her real name) came to stay with us. For awhile. For an undetermined time. Until she’s able to put the past behind her and learns to cope with the onrushing future. It will happen again...and again.
As long as there needs to be a place like this, it will happen. Dad will tear up and Auntie will cry aloud. Mom will long for one more hug and Grandpa will once again be the strong one for the family, as he once was years ago.
Thank God for places like this. Thank God for grandpas. And thank God that one day we won't need a place like this anymore.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Giving Account
Well, I guess it had to happen sooner or later. I’m fighting a virus (cold) that I’m sure I picked up from one of the girls, who probably picked it up in school, etc. I haven’t had a good cold for several years, and a warm weather cold has been even more of a rarity for me lately.
They say it takes about a week to shake a cold if you treat it and seven days if you don’t. I prefer, however, to treat the symptoms, which tends to make things much more tolerable for me. Hence the trip to Dillons a few minutes ago to pick up some antihistamine, which will dovetail nicely with my Tylenol and Sudafed.
I wonder what people in the olden days did before they had Dimetapp, Coricidin, Robitussin, and all the rest. Can you imagine a cowboy on the prairie herding cattle and suffering from a cold…or worse yet, from allergies kicked up by the dust and pollen of the prairie? What about those who suffered from migraines, hay fever, and other maladies? And I won’t even go into hemorrhoids and those kinds of ailments.
The good, or even tolerable days were probably fewer and farther between in those days. The blessing was that many people didn’t live long enough to have a lot of bad days. Diabetes was always fatal. Strokes, heart attacks, cancers, etc., were a scourge. And even catching the flu was a serious matter, many times ending in death or at least a weakened condition.
We have much for which to thank our Creator. We also have much for which to give account one day.
They say it takes about a week to shake a cold if you treat it and seven days if you don’t. I prefer, however, to treat the symptoms, which tends to make things much more tolerable for me. Hence the trip to Dillons a few minutes ago to pick up some antihistamine, which will dovetail nicely with my Tylenol and Sudafed.
I wonder what people in the olden days did before they had Dimetapp, Coricidin, Robitussin, and all the rest. Can you imagine a cowboy on the prairie herding cattle and suffering from a cold…or worse yet, from allergies kicked up by the dust and pollen of the prairie? What about those who suffered from migraines, hay fever, and other maladies? And I won’t even go into hemorrhoids and those kinds of ailments.
The good, or even tolerable days were probably fewer and farther between in those days. The blessing was that many people didn’t live long enough to have a lot of bad days. Diabetes was always fatal. Strokes, heart attacks, cancers, etc., were a scourge. And even catching the flu was a serious matter, many times ending in death or at least a weakened condition.
We have much for which to thank our Creator. We also have much for which to give account one day.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
One Question Unasked
The roofers are here today. They’re putting a new roof on our home here on campus. Evidently sometime last spring, a hail storm came through and ruined many roofs in this part of Wichita. We’ve seen roofers busy in several parts of our neighborhood.
This week, they were on the campus. We have several buildings (9) and they all needed a new roof. I don’t know the name of the company, but like so many roofing companies these days, they’ve employed a crew of Hispanics to work the roofs.
There are upwards of 20 men on the roof most of the time. They don’t take long to strip off the old shingles, remove any leftover nails, lay down the felt paper and put on the new shingles. They can complete a large home in a day and not even work much past 5 o’clock.
Several of them banter and make jokes during the day. Several of them hum or sing some song. They all know what their job is, and work well together even though the scene looks chaotic at times.
I have to wonder about these men. I’m sure they are itinerant, moving from city to city as hail storms come and go. Where are they living while they are in Wichita? How do they receive good medical care, being always on the move? What about dental care? Where are their families? How long have they been doing this? Do they intend to do this until their health no longer permits? How much are they paid? Where do they do their laundry? Where do they use the bathroom during their work time? What do they do in their off time?
If you’ll look, you’ll see, though, that one question is not in the list. It’s perhaps the most important question of all. Do you know what it is? I’ll give you a hint. The word “Jesus” is in the question.
Now you know. Why wasn’t that the first question in my head? Why do I ask where they go to the bathroom rather than whether or not they know Jesus? I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to know.
This week, they were on the campus. We have several buildings (9) and they all needed a new roof. I don’t know the name of the company, but like so many roofing companies these days, they’ve employed a crew of Hispanics to work the roofs.
There are upwards of 20 men on the roof most of the time. They don’t take long to strip off the old shingles, remove any leftover nails, lay down the felt paper and put on the new shingles. They can complete a large home in a day and not even work much past 5 o’clock.
Several of them banter and make jokes during the day. Several of them hum or sing some song. They all know what their job is, and work well together even though the scene looks chaotic at times.
I have to wonder about these men. I’m sure they are itinerant, moving from city to city as hail storms come and go. Where are they living while they are in Wichita? How do they receive good medical care, being always on the move? What about dental care? Where are their families? How long have they been doing this? Do they intend to do this until their health no longer permits? How much are they paid? Where do they do their laundry? Where do they use the bathroom during their work time? What do they do in their off time?
If you’ll look, you’ll see, though, that one question is not in the list. It’s perhaps the most important question of all. Do you know what it is? I’ll give you a hint. The word “Jesus” is in the question.
Now you know. Why wasn’t that the first question in my head? Why do I ask where they go to the bathroom rather than whether or not they know Jesus? I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to know.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Just Things
I know it’s been a week since I’ve written. Those two or three of you that read my blog are, I’m sure, very disappointed in my lack of writing desire. However, I have an excuse this time.
We started our week off last Thursday afternoon. That evening, we went to Hays, Kansas to help our youngest son, his wife and our granddaughter move to Emporia. He found work there on campus of Emporia State and this was the weekend to make the big move.
Friday, we got the truck, loaded and drove to Emporia. Saturday, we unloaded the truck, took it back to the U haul place, and we started putting together a household. Sunday, we attended services at a local church, then worked some more that afternoon on the house. Sunday evening, we came back to Wichita.
Today (Monday), I spent a couple of hours in the dentist chair getting a crown prep on a molar. We also, since I do my dentistry in my hometown, went to a neighboring community and did some shopping in a men’s store that I liked when we lived in south-central Kansas.
The owner-operators were still there, noticeably older, but every bit as talkative as ever. I bought three pull-over shirts, ordered some Nike shoes (the inexpensive, non-flashy kind), and a sport coat. When I go back down on the 29th for my crown install, I’ll go back down there and fit the coat and pick up the shoes. What service. They’ve got the Wichita stores beat by miles in service and accommodation.
So it’s been a full time off for us. We still have some things to do before the girls come back to see us for three weeks this coming Thursday. I may not write for a few days, but again may write tomorrow. Who knows? Check back.
We started our week off last Thursday afternoon. That evening, we went to Hays, Kansas to help our youngest son, his wife and our granddaughter move to Emporia. He found work there on campus of Emporia State and this was the weekend to make the big move.
Friday, we got the truck, loaded and drove to Emporia. Saturday, we unloaded the truck, took it back to the U haul place, and we started putting together a household. Sunday, we attended services at a local church, then worked some more that afternoon on the house. Sunday evening, we came back to Wichita.
Today (Monday), I spent a couple of hours in the dentist chair getting a crown prep on a molar. We also, since I do my dentistry in my hometown, went to a neighboring community and did some shopping in a men’s store that I liked when we lived in south-central Kansas.
The owner-operators were still there, noticeably older, but every bit as talkative as ever. I bought three pull-over shirts, ordered some Nike shoes (the inexpensive, non-flashy kind), and a sport coat. When I go back down on the 29th for my crown install, I’ll go back down there and fit the coat and pick up the shoes. What service. They’ve got the Wichita stores beat by miles in service and accommodation.
So it’s been a full time off for us. We still have some things to do before the girls come back to see us for three weeks this coming Thursday. I may not write for a few days, but again may write tomorrow. Who knows? Check back.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Keeping Sane
I was just sure the world would come crashing down upon us this weekend as we’ve had the girls for a four-day holiday weekend. Friday, school was out for an inservice day (whatever that is) and Monday (today) is Labor Day. However, we’ve made it this far (Monday at 10:45am) without any major meltdowns or issues.
Now, that doesn’t mean that there aren’t any problems. The Plank Psychological Associates office is open and has been busy with a steady stream of “she said _____”, “it isn’t fair that _________”, and “nobody cares about (again, fill in the blank).”
But somehow, we manage to bump along from one hour to the next, getting chores done, getting in some exercise, and getting ready for school on Tuesday. It always amazes me when lights are out and things are quiet just HOW quiet things really are. I sort of wish I wasn’t so tired that I couldn’t enjoy the quiet at that time, but my eyelids are drooping then too, just as are those of the girls.
Here’s to Labor Day and four-day weekends at children’s homes…and the house parents that keep their sanity through it all.
Now, that doesn’t mean that there aren’t any problems. The Plank Psychological Associates office is open and has been busy with a steady stream of “she said _____”, “it isn’t fair that _________”, and “nobody cares about (again, fill in the blank).”
But somehow, we manage to bump along from one hour to the next, getting chores done, getting in some exercise, and getting ready for school on Tuesday. It always amazes me when lights are out and things are quiet just HOW quiet things really are. I sort of wish I wasn’t so tired that I couldn’t enjoy the quiet at that time, but my eyelids are drooping then too, just as are those of the girls.
Here’s to Labor Day and four-day weekends at children’s homes…and the house parents that keep their sanity through it all.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
It's Saturday Morning
It’s Saturday morning at Harrold Cottage, and I’m reminded of the old Bobby Russell song “Saturday Morning Confusion”. Yes, I know that my girls are older than the kids depicted in the song. But in many ways, it’s the same here as it is in the song. I already can’t wait until bed time and it’s only 9am.
Saturday Morning Confusion
- Artist: Bobby Russell
- peak Billboard position # 28 in 1971
- Words and Music by Bobby Russell*
Here they come, warmin' up
I hear the pitter-patter of little people on the livin' room rug
Whoa is me! There goes the TV
Now it's Popeye and Pluto, Batman and Bozo
Don't spill the corn flakes, they'll break at lunch break
Home from the office, why did I stop to have a beer with the boys?
Now my head's 'bout to pop
It's a Saturday morning confusion
If you think you can sleep, it's illusion
'cause you'll probably get a rude intrusion from Harry the dog
Harry the dog is as big as can be
'n' Harry the dog had puppies last week
We couldn't tell if it's a he or a she, now we know
It's a Saturday morning confusion
If I could just get to the bathroom
And get a cold rag and an aspirin to help how I feel
But here come the twins and they're screamin' at me
What is the deal to turn off the TV?
"Go ask your mother and quietly, your daddy is ill"
There he is-Cousin Jack
You got the leaf rake, too, keep at it till I get it all back
Hangin' round my yard, snoopin' in my garage
I tolerate 'im because he's my cousin
He's nice to the kids and Harry just loves him!
It's a Saturday morning confusion
And if I could just hide in my attic
So I couldn't hear my wife yellin' "Take 'em all to the show"
I'll take the whole neighborhood to the show
I'll just walk out in back where the money-tree grows
Grab me a handful and off to the show we'll go
It's a Saturday morning confusion
And if I could just get a transfusion
Or maybe go hide in the bedroom till five o'clock
Let it be known that at five the TV
Is gonna be tuned to the Game Of the Week
And that goes for dogs and twins and the whole family
It's a Saturday morning confusion
It's a Saturday morning confusion day is done
Cousin Jack, in his yard cooking steaks on a grill that I'll never get back
The twins in front of the TV, Harry with his fam'ly
Sis on her date and Mom at the door smiles as she surveys the sight
For the first time today, the kingdom is quiet
LORD, LET US THANK YOU FOR SATURDAYS
AND MAY THEY REMAIN OUR FRIENDS!!
'cause I work all week long
Be strong till they're grown
And next Saturday then, we'll do it again
a- Here they come, warmin' up
I hear the pitter-patter of little people on the livin' room rug
FADE
Whoa is me! There goes the TV
Saturday Morning Confusion
- Artist: Bobby Russell
- peak Billboard position # 28 in 1971
- Words and Music by Bobby Russell*
Here they come, warmin' up
I hear the pitter-patter of little people on the livin' room rug
Whoa is me! There goes the TV
Now it's Popeye and Pluto, Batman and Bozo
Don't spill the corn flakes, they'll break at lunch break
Home from the office, why did I stop to have a beer with the boys?
Now my head's 'bout to pop
It's a Saturday morning confusion
If you think you can sleep, it's illusion
'cause you'll probably get a rude intrusion from Harry the dog
Harry the dog is as big as can be
'n' Harry the dog had puppies last week
We couldn't tell if it's a he or a she, now we know
It's a Saturday morning confusion
If I could just get to the bathroom
And get a cold rag and an aspirin to help how I feel
But here come the twins and they're screamin' at me
What is the deal to turn off the TV?
"Go ask your mother and quietly, your daddy is ill"
There he is-Cousin Jack
You got the leaf rake, too, keep at it till I get it all back
Hangin' round my yard, snoopin' in my garage
I tolerate 'im because he's my cousin
He's nice to the kids and Harry just loves him!
It's a Saturday morning confusion
And if I could just hide in my attic
So I couldn't hear my wife yellin' "Take 'em all to the show"
I'll take the whole neighborhood to the show
I'll just walk out in back where the money-tree grows
Grab me a handful and off to the show we'll go
It's a Saturday morning confusion
And if I could just get a transfusion
Or maybe go hide in the bedroom till five o'clock
Let it be known that at five the TV
Is gonna be tuned to the Game Of the Week
And that goes for dogs and twins and the whole family
It's a Saturday morning confusion
It's a Saturday morning confusion day is done
Cousin Jack, in his yard cooking steaks on a grill that I'll never get back
The twins in front of the TV, Harry with his fam'ly
Sis on her date and Mom at the door smiles as she surveys the sight
For the first time today, the kingdom is quiet
LORD, LET US THANK YOU FOR SATURDAYS
AND MAY THEY REMAIN OUR FRIENDS!!
'cause I work all week long
Be strong till they're grown
And next Saturday then, we'll do it again
a- Here they come, warmin' up
I hear the pitter-patter of little people on the livin' room rug
FADE
Whoa is me! There goes the TV
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