Ain’t no cure for the Summertime Blues!

Summer is finally upon us. We have waited all year for this season of sweltering heat. The uncontrollable swamp ass like conditions. The end of the school year. Time to relax.


Bullshit. Summer can only mean one thing. Unless you are 21 years of age with flat abs and a golden tan which most of us are not, summer is misery. Here is why.


If you are lucky enough to have been blessed with these little inconsiderate bastards pay attention.

Our children attend school throughout the year. Pay their dues. Grace us parents with homework assignments Albert Einstein would need extra help in order to complete. It’s a difficult task for all.

We manage.

There is hope. It’s called summer! A time to relax. Kick our feet up. Enjoy.

Not for children today.

These ungrateful humps walk around our houses, breath our air, use our water, drain our electricity, eat our food, use our wifi & have the audacity to complain about boredom. Wait until they get married and they will really know the meaning of boredom.

Kids today have no idea what it was like growing up in our time. I’m 42. A spring chicken compared to some old timers who have really experienced the harsh reality of growing up under the rules and regulations of parenting before google.

Today parents are confused and don’t know how to deal with little Billy climbing on the couch. Cute little Sarah eating the futon. So they turn to google for answers and guidance.

Back in our day our parents had google as well. My Dad would scroll down his hairy belly button and press the enter button (belt buckle.) He would then proceed to download his leather belt. My siblings and I always prayed the wifi signal was weak but it was a crap shoot. That signal was always strong for some reason.

Once completed, my Dad transferred his belt buckle app onto our software white asses and hacked our butts only to download a shitload of viruses. In other words, he whacked our heinie so hard Donkey Kong sent us get well flowers.

He sent a “text message” across our anal cracks. “Behave or be beat.” Simple.

Our children today cling. They hang around us. They are needy. Get away. We love you but you must go play in traffic or jump in a lake. Leave us parents alone.

When kids cling today we think it’s cute. We pet them. Buy them gift cards. Put them on our laps. Buy them bomb pops. Things of that nature.

Back in the day if I tried to cling to my Dad, first and foremost I got a severe case of rug burn from the abundance of chest hair I contended with. Second, my Dad would ash his Viceroy cigarette directly into my eyeball. He viewed me as an ashtray. Period. Last, when he attempted to show affection towards me after breaking me down he would sing “Frosty the Snowman” into my face as all I could do was embrace the onslaught of severe cigarette infused halitosis breath as bits and pieces of Maxwell House coffee beans shot out of his mouth and bounced repeatedly off my forehead.

There was nothing I could do. This was my clinging and bonding experience with my dad.

Kids are lucky today.

My wife and Mother in law protect these two little shits as if they are the “Princes of Egypt.”

Once I tried to give my son a hug because he got a 68 on his Math test and my crazy ass mother in law sliced off my left man boob.

It was an interesting day.

Children seem so protected today and lack the ability to deal with day to day daily struggles of life.

We must continue to do our best and raise our family in a time we are unfamiliar with as life changes everyday.

Go with the flow! Adapt. Embrace. Evolve.



5 Replies to “Ain’t no cure for the Summertime Blues!”

  1. Kids are babied WAYYYYYY to much today! THey need to know how to deal with life on the real world. We just had this convo as a PD day yesterday at work and how scary it is! GOod one Ant!

  2. So strange…It’s as if you traveled back in time to MY childhood…except I contended with my mother’s Virginia Slim Menthol Lights that she kept cool in the freezer. If I sought after knowledge I referenced the Encyclopedia Britannica’s my parents bought me that I didn’t ask for. (But somehow they made me feel guilty for purchasing…An odd element, I know. Things were weird at my house.)
    I think I’d rather have had the belt instead of the mind games though. Psychological warfare is hard on a youngster.

    1. Virginia slims. Those babies burned forever. The belt was not a bad option. It was quick and to the point. No mind games thankfully. They can last a lifetime. But… mind games can shape who you are today. Keep you sharp and witty!!! Which you are 😜

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *