Dude, You'd Be LUCKY To Carry My Baggage!

Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year to you all!


We had a very quiet, and good Christmas in the Korner this year.

Stayed home, opened presents, then drove a couple of hours to Mom’s for Christmas dinner with family.

Good food, good company, good kids, good times!


I also had visitors of my own over the holidays.

Workers in my basement.

No, the renovations have NOT officially started yet. And DON’T get me started on WHY!

However, I did have workers in my house related to the flood cleanup.

Did I mention I had a flood in my basement?

No?

Yeah. That was FUN!


Not only did it hold up the start of renos, but now I’m fighting with the insurance company over the claim.

Did I mention FUN?!?!? NOT!!!!


The first day the workers were there, I worked from home.

Nice guys. One was older, training the ‘new guy’ who was starting his first day on the job, that day.


I talked to them on and off throughout the day. Gave them some music, offered drinks etc.

Just cause I’m nice and friendly that way ;-)

But for the most part, I left them to their work, and I sat upstairs at the kitchen table working on the laptop.


I could, however, hear their conversation downstairs.

Interesting, the things men talk about as they work.

Not surprisingly, one of the topics was … WOMEN!


Oh yeah. And did I get an EARFUL on THAT one!

The older guy was telling the younger guy about a recent date he’d had, and how the woman ended up being somewhat of a Bitch.

Something about her psychological well being was thrown in there as well, and a few other choice descriptions, but mostly … it was that she was a Bitch.


As I sat at the table listening, yes … I WAS listening, the only thought that seemed to be rolling through my mind was, ‘… and they say women gossip about men?!?!?!? Whoever ‘they’ are, ‘they’ have apparently NOT met this gentleman!’

Suddenly, I noticed a break in the conversation. It sounded like the older guy was whispering something.

Strange.

Why would he suddenly be whispering, when the entire previous part of the conversation was in normal, somewhat loud, tones?

Then, I think I heard the reason for the whispering …

The young guy replied to what the older guy had whispered...

'Well … yeah … the NICE ones ALWAYS come with baggage.’


My fingers paused over the keyboard. My mind completely forgot what it was I had been just about to type.

Surely I had misheard him.

I COULDN’T have heard what I thought I had just heard.

‘The nice ones always come with baggage.’

Well now. How’s THAT for a slap.


Maybe they were talking about me (because of the whispering), maybe not.

Regardless, the meaning of the sentence was CLEAR.

The ‘nice’ chicks come with kids. AKA … baggage.


Would anyone like to take a guess how much will power it took, for me NOT to fly down those stairs and give that young'un a piece of my ‘nice’ mind?!?!?!

OH. MY. GOD.

The only thing that stopped me, and I mean ONLY, is that I knew this kid had NO IDEA what he was talking about.

Baggage? BAGGAGE?!?!??!

You know, Buddy, kids aren’t baggage. They’re PEOPLE!

Granted, they're little people, but they’re people, nonetheless. Mine included!

NOT BAGGAGE!!!!


See this?

And this?

And this?

NOT baggage.


Baggage is something I store into the overhead bin on a plane. Or in the trunk of my car.

My kids? They are NOT baggage.


My kids are the MOST important thing in my life - right up there with breathing & blinking.

My kids ultimately help make me the person I am.

They make me strong, they keep me honest, they give me a love for life and adventure.

Not baggage.


Would I have met Bret Hart if not for my kids? Probably not.

Would I have been 70 ft in the trees, zip lining and thrill-climbing? Most likely not.

Would I continually try to be the best person I can be, so these two little people will be proud to call me Mom? Maybe … maybe not. Who knows.

My kids are actually pretty cool people, who are damn fun to hang around, when they’re not being jerks to each other.


Unfortunately, some guys just don’t get that.

This young’un was apparently one of them.


I held my tongue. I didn’t say anything nasty to him.

Oh but I wanted to! Believe me!

If nothing else, what I REALLY wanted to tell that boy was, ‘Ya know what Dude? The very first time you and your girl have a child, and you hold that baby in your arms, you remember me getting your face and telling you ‘They’re NOT baggage!’. Cause I’m SURE you’ll NEVER think of kids that way again!’


I’m convinced, if you’re not a parent, whether through natural delivery, adoption, or through whatever other means got you there, you just don’t get it.

A parent just doesn’t think of their child as baggage. Ever.

A pain in the ass sometimes? Absolutely!

Baggage? NEVER!

Sure, some days, I’d love to simply wrap ‘em in bubble wrap, stuff ‘em in a box with a sticker on it that says ‘Airmail … Zimbabwe’, but with one heartfelt apology, one goofy grin, or hug, that feeling passes.

They’re not baggage. They’re the best part of my life.

Hopefully someday, Dude, you’ll get it.

Oh, and just so ya know? Dude, you'd be LUCKY to carry my baggage!

K.