The greatest gift we could ever have is a child. Babies can be so adorable and so amazing, just a miracle of life. That being the case, our next child still owes me big time.
Back in the long, long ago (errr… 4 years ago), the wife and I set out on a quest to find a house. I finally found one that could accommodate my basic needs. Those needs included a nice big gaming room and a computer room. Well, I guess we could call the computer room a Den if I were a more sophisticated folk. Of course, then I would need lots of hardcover boring ass books, a leather chair you wouldn’t be able to unstick from if you encountered humidity, and most of all, a ridiculous moustache and tobacco pipe.
Lord Crangston P. Moustache the 23rd in a long line of proud moustaches. The blood still runs deep in this moustache.
Ok, well, I don’t have those things, nor do I want those things. Least of all a moustache as I would not do it proud. And if you can’t have pride in your moustache, what the hell can you have pride in? Nadda, zilch, zippo, and on and on. So ignore the moustache part for it is not important. Well, not important to my story anyway.
We found a decent sort of house with a nice big gaming room and a room I could revamp into my computer room. We tried to do themes in two rooms and the computer room would be our Star Wars room. With my wife, one of the first things I noticed about her when I saw her in the break room one day was that she was reading a Star Wars book. Now what sort of geek would I be if I didn’t immediately say, “Whoa!” From there, nothing would stop me from having her. Not even that giant poster of Jar-Jar Binks. I will say that was nearly the deal breaker, but I figured I had to get married before I went bald.
Ah, my Star Wars room, we painted it a light greyish-blue and hung up posters for the original three movies. Of course, the nice carpet in that room was quickly ruined when the phone rang while I was painting. I whirled around trying to find the phone and kicked the bucket. The only part of the room that didn’t have plastic over it was right where the paint headed. And sure enough, there was that damned phone too, now covered in paint. I was pretty mad at this point, so who should I blame? Well clearly my wife and her sister for calling to speak to her. If they wouldn’t have just HAD to talk my room would have been spared. Now I say this merely because I’m a man and I don’t like talking on the phone and rarely ever call anyone. Alas, I soon started buying action figures to put on the walls and other various Star Wars memorabilia. It was a veritable nerd-u-copia!
Soon our family grew by one and then by two. Finally, after three and a half years, the dream of nerdom is rapidly fading. Last week I had to say good-bye to the computer room and hello to the baby room. Oh, for the suffering involved, my angst was great! The problem with the whole darned thing was not only did I say good-bye to the computer room, but the wife told me that the Star Wars stuff had to vacate said premises. These are not lies my people! This is the blunt, brutal, and horrifying truth! Not even the posters can stay as they are “too scary” as rated by the Becca Council for Domestic Scariness. Now do you understand my suffering?
The action figures are in a state of limbo as I try to decide what to do with them. My boys keep asking me about them and they sure do love action figures. Part of me is wanting to keep them in their boxes and see if they ever end up being worth anything. But then again, the boys sure would love them. Decisions. The posters I can move into the game room. The books will end up down there on the same bookcase, but this is an end of an era.
Now we will share a lifetime of the fondest memories. By the lakes of Anawanna… sat in the old pine trees?
So for those of you who have these dreams and aspirations, let me give you the cold, hard truth. If you have children, you must give up at least 80% of your dreams, your dignity, and your Star Wars rooms. That’s just a fact of life. Now if I could afford a mansion, I most likely wouldn’t have to do this. However, if I could afford a mansion, boy would we have some fun. And boy would I never be able to keep track of my kids and that kind of scares me. Plus, who the heck would do all of the cleaning? But there is a moral to this story of eternal sadness. A light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. That moral is this; we have to give up something of ourselves so that life can flourish. I learned that from church. Pretty impressive, huh? For a child, if I must give this up, I shall, because my hope is that some day, they, too, will have a Star Wars room. Then when they have to clear it out for their child, maybe then, they too shall understand and all of this won’t be for naught.
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