The kids have no space to make this wine, this time even a greater amount than before, and once again the parents will become foster vintners. My first thought was that I’d rather have grandchildren but then the wine turned out pretty good this last time, there were no diapers involved or screaming so I am okay with it.

My girlfriend’s daughter did my hair and it is so wonderfully colored that it really deserves to be seen by someone important, but since that is not very likely, I will settle for turning heads at Aldees and at the mailbox at the end of my driveway. This is as much exposure I can muster in a rural area where the largest village nearby has a population of 1800.

The other development is my recent acquisition of kettle bells. They were on sale at Aldees for $24.99. I have been swinging them around, which is kind of fun. Since they really make me sweat, I am not sure how long I will actually use them. Perhaps the latest health insurance survey I had to take that let me know my BMI is too high might motivate me. Maybe.

This cat hates me but it’s nothing personal – she hates everyone. And just when I thought my refereeing days were over, doesn’t this cat decide to feud with my cat. This is all taking place throught a window as my cat is an outside cat and this one is an indoor cat. The big difference between fighting cats and fighting kids is that the cats actually listen to me when I yell at them to stop. And they can’t give you the finger behind your back.

And this cat hisses at me no end. It matters not that I am the one who feeds her. I am still undecided as to whether or not I will clean the litter box before my daughter gets back. The thought of it makes me second guess the frequency of her suggested feeding schedule. She is pretty scrawny already so I had better not make any adjustments.

My window is splattered with cat spittle on both sides but I won’t bother not clean it until this brat of a cat is back at her home after the kids trip. Either then or next spring. Or if I am having company over with fairly good eyesight. One good thing about your friends getting older is their failing eyesight. This gives me solace after my time in front of the 8x makeup mirror each day too.

Not exactly an account like those from the more famous cat women like Ertha Kitt or Julie Newmar, eh? Well, at least I don’t have to fight with men in tights carrying shark spray in their utility belts. And those cat women got to wear masks to cover up any new wrinkles or other imperfections. I am pretty daring but I don’t think I can pull that one off.

“Time to accessorize.” ~ Catwoman

When the kids were younger, I limited their TV viewing time because I was very mean and wanted them to grow up with at least half a brain. When I did let them watch TV, it wasn’t just anything on the tube, the shows had to be suitable – to me, of course.

One of their favorites were the KidSongs videos and songs and we played the videos over and over until you could probably see through the tape. They often will reminisce about some of the songs so when I happened to stumble upon the KidSongs site with downloadable songs to record to a CD or an iPod, I couldn’t resist.

Thirteen songs and $13 later, I had some of their favs downloaded and burned to a CD that I decorated with photos. This get me exactly 13 seconds of appreciation – they did love it but the jury is still out whether it was worth it. Once again, I feel victim to my fond memories of my child-rearing past. Now I will probably get spammed with announcements about new releases. Too bad there are no songs with accompanying videos about kids fighting, screaming and tantrums. It would provide some balance, that’s all I am saying.

Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving. ~ Albert Eienstein

Yes, the kids brought home a science project for adults and just like the old days, left it for mom to finish while they one went on a trip and the other back to work.

So my brother calls and asks if I can watch his two young daughters and all I can think of is giving them a bath straddling the three huge containers of fermenting wine juice. And what will they tell the teacher about their weekend?

Not only do I have to watch the cat, now I have wine duty. And both of the girls already checked in on the wine to make sure that I had correctly followed the directions for the next step. Newsflash. It is not rocket science, more like baking as you measure yeast and stir. I think I can handle it.

They asked if I would make them labels for their bottles and I was to come up with the name. Oh that is my specialty. Vino di Flush. Chateau Potty. Nature Calls. In the Drink. Ripe Wipe. Niagara Trickle. Back ‘o Noir. I could go on all night.

“We will serve no wine before it’s time.” Orson Wells

One day on the way to college, an amazing thing happened.

My child, who was a complete and utter unorganized mess, got organized. Imagine my surprise when I was presented a diagram, color coded no less, of how to organize his drawers.

And I have included proof to relieve anyone of their doubts. I just had to photograph it because no one would believe me otherwise. This is the kid whose drawers at home are exploding with wrinkled shirts, shoved in so tightly that you can hardly open the drawer.

The condition of the organized drawers in about a week is up for speculation but I don’t care. I am claiming this small victory.

While I will need to spend a few hours in his room at home doing what I call organizing but is really disposing of trash, I believe this is a start. At least there was a plan.

Part of effective parenting is picking your battles. Then there is patience. Then there is knowing what to overlook. Coincidently, these same skills are needed to make a marriage last. I am hoping that this new development, combined with my ability to practicing the skills aforementioned, will continue to increase.

If not, I have really perfected the overlook thing. That really comes in handy.

“The art of being wise is the art of knowing what to overlook.” ~William James

While I did nothing to deserve them, I got good aging genes. That and Lady Clairol have made it possible for me to fool some and confound others. The best part is that it bothers, irks and makes the kids squirm. Some sick, twisted part of me really enjoys this. (And also justifies the amount of money I spend on creams and potions at Marshalls.)

And when this case of mistaken age-identity happens, there are so many retorts from the kids:

• What do you want? We were in a bar.
• It was dark.
• They were drinking.
• They must need glasses.
• They wanted a big tip from you.
• You paid them to say that when you went to the bathroom.
• They didn’t see your body, only your face.

To this I respond by recanting, multiple times, to as many people as possible, what just happened. And oh, how sweet it is.

I don’t feel old. I don’t feel anything till noon. That’s when it’s time for my nap. ~ Bob Hope