Barney K. Jackass, Sr.

Granted, I'm not a morning person and I don't appreciate sounds of nature at 5 a.m. On the other hand, my wife could be mother natures poster child, hands down.  Nicky's morning soap opera, turned yoga routine makes me a tad bit sick.  I'm not knocking it. It's a woman thing and Nicky is most definitely a woman.  I try not to badmouth my wife's transcendental meditation or pooh-poo her activities.

Just try waking up at 5 a.m. to the sounds of your mother-in-law gargling and I think you'll understand. "Barney," she says, "Could you please be a doll and drop my slacks off at the cleaners on your way to work? You know how I hate looking wrinkled when it's ladies night out. I simply cannot imagine what Thelma and Pratchett would think."

I suspect very little words would leave the ladies mouths.  For one thing, Thelma is known for forgetting to wear her glasses and turning her hearing aid off. Pratchett?  Well, let's just say that Pratchett is a mere personality or two short from being Sybil Dorsett, the famed mental case who was treated by the famed Dr. Cornelia Wilbur.

In fact, all ten of the ladies in Priscilla's book club\therapy group are bits and pieces of

people I hate.  Ma-Law says, "Barney, you are so negative." OK, I'll bite.  At age-67, living as the only man in a house of eight women and fifteen cats, I could write a book on the subject.  The title would be, "Why I Sneak out Of the House and Go to the Bar" by

Barney K. Jackass, Sr.

Nicky and I met in 1968 when we were flower children.  I deflowered her and we had three little darling children together.  The oldest, our son Barney K. Jackass, Jr. is sitting in the penitentiary right now.  What was his crime?  He liked to smoke marijuana, "Mary Jane," and his life went up in smoke.  The cop working the beat didn't take too kindly to my boy.  Barney Jr., a then 20-year old, was caught stealing five boxes of Cracker Jacks from the friendly Piggly Wiggly store. He was apprehended and the cops found drugs on his person. Not only that, Jackass Jr. was driving a stolen vehicle.

I said it to Nicky a million and one times. I said, "Honey, that boy is headed for trouble in his life." Our son learned how to say the word "No' long before he learned how to say,

"Yes." I remember my son's childhood as though it were yesterday.

                   "Barney, Jr., you clean up your room. It's a mess."

                   "No."

                   "Barney, Jr., you get back here. I'm not done talking to you."

                   "No"

                   "Barney, Jr., we know you're stoned. Hand over the drugs."

                   "No"

                   "Barney, Jr., did you keep your appointment with the guidance counselor?

                   "No"

Our two girls, Linda and Lisa, (the two L's) have turned into Linda, the loud mouthed lawyer and Lisa, the in-your-face- big city dentist.  One studied the law and became an almost well paid prosecutor.  The other went on to study tooth and teeth, inventing a

mouth wash.  Lisa is our family dentist now.  Linda, on the other hand, will never be hired by a Jackass. She, in turn, has made it clear that she will never legally represent any member of her Jackass family. Not even Barney Jr.

I wonder if you're wondering who the eight women I live with might be: Meet Nicky, the wife, and her BFF, Nancy.  Also meet, my mother-in-law, Priscilla, and her two darling girls, Amanda and Kelly. Then there is Kelly's friend, Sara, and Sara's godmother, Jill. Last but not least, Miss Flora rents a room a room with us. She is my mother-in-laws hairdresser.

It's not like I come home from work the way Ward Cleaver from "Leave it to Beaver" comes home. "Honey, I'm home" isn't a necessary utter. No one cares. It's more like, "Honey, I'm home and now I'm going back out."  This explains it in a nutshell, why

I titled the first chapter of my book, "I Desperately Need a Drink and I Deliberately Forgot to Bring Milk for the Cats And Kittens."

"Go to Piggly Wiggly and pick up that half gallon of milk," my wife commands.

Oreo and Milkshake, the two blue eyed Himalayan cats are Persian fat Mama's that   care.  The more dominant cats, Charlie and Angel, are Somalis and Siamese. Charlie tolerates me and Angel wishes very bad things to happen to Barney K. Jackass, Sr.

The two rexes, four ocicats, and five Abyssinian cats aren't much fun, either.  Every single one of our kittens and cats have "issues."  Not only that, they are all milk addicts that go to any length to supply their need. 

"I'll get the dam milk but it might take awhile." I say to Nicky.

Which brings me to why I'm sitting in a bar right now, nursing a beer.  It's not easy being a Jackass.