You Have a Friend in Me

by Troy Foster

Well, not everyone.  I’m not the most patient man anymore – if I ever was before.  And let’s face it, everyone is not clamoring to be my friend.  The service isn’t what it used to be; so, there hasn’t been a run on the Troy Foster Friendship product line.  No hurt feelings here though, as it’s probably better for all of us.

That said, for those that are my friends, I’ve always thought that word is meaningful and substantive, and full of action – more than the word reveals.  Commitment, attention, love, and loyalty.

And, for me, demonstrative.  I’ve found that often times, people want to just hear that those that they invest in care about them.  You may not be able to help with whatever they are going through.  Maybe you can.  But, at the very least, hearing that you are there, paying attention, and care sometimes can make a big difference.

You do.  So, might as well say it.  Doesn’t cost anything.  Might feel awkward, at first.  But, it may be worth a lot to your friend. 

"Daddy Got Arrested in Ohio"

By Troy Foster

That’s what the kids are saying anyway.  I didn’t.  I did get pulled over for speeding on our way back from a short trip to Washington, D.C.  And, of course, we were stopped just passed the “welcome” sign as we entered Ohio.  Really Ohio?  I guess my dislike for the State will continue for a bit longer.

That said, the kids – Henry especially – were so excited that I got “arrested.”  When I argued with him, he just giggled and kept saying it.  But, this little stinker wouldn’t even talk to me directly about it – as if I was a common criminal not worth speaking to.  Rather, he’d make sure I was looking at him in the review-view mirror, smile, turn to Kristen and say “Mommy, will you please tell me when Daddy gets arrested again.”  Then, they would erupt in laughter.  My pretending to act mad just raised the intensity of the chortling.  After we got home, and right before he went to sleep, Henry asked me quietly, “Daddy, wasn’t it so funny when you got arrested?”  It was.

So though I’m not asking for it to happen again, the $140 fine and getting arrested – were well worth the fun we’ve had afterward.  It might have been a highlight of our trip.  (The trip, by the way, was part of our mission to do fun things with the kids on the spur of the moment.  On Saturday, I had the kids get dressed to swim – as we’d planned on heading up to the beaches in Michigan.  At some point, because my wife is running for Congress and Luke has wanted to go there, I decided we’d go to DC.  Long drive for a very short stay.  But the kids had a blast, were in awe, and had a great time at the museums.  They’ve already started mapping out our next trip to DC – when we plan to stay more than a day.)

My “arrest” just reinforced to me, on a very minute level, how precious every minute truly is.  We can waste it on being mad, seeing the worst in it, or focusing on the bad.  Or, we can laugh and have fun.  Our kids have taught us to make the last choice.

Ticked Off (or In)

This story is not for the weak at heart, and explains why I am so lucky to have met and married my wife.  And, it’s about ticks.

Before we got married, I had an awesome Great Dane, named Cooper.  Cooper was a dream dog.  After a lot of training classes and time and attention, he was well behaved.  He was loving and peaceful too.  So, when I found out that he had ticks, it was really upsetting.  They had burrowed their way into his paws.  Made me sad; so, I quickly got him taken care of.

A few days later, I realized that ticks are not easily disposed of.  I saw some crawling up the wall – full of blood.  It was disgusting, to say the very least.  So, I “bombed” the house.  Cooper was in the clear.  Two days later, however, I saw one, then two, then ten, then 20 – creepy crawly baby ticks on Cooper’s bed.  He had so much repellent on him.  He was safe.  But, I needed these blood-suckers gone.  Bomb number two seemed to do the trick.

After this craziness, Kristen and I continued our romantic dates.  She can tell you how romantic I am.  And, it plays out in this story too, if you don’t believe either of us.   Seriously, we had gotten close quickly, and I had fallen in love.  No doubt in my mind.  So, what was to come was extremely mortifying.

For weeks, I had noticed a weird rash on my chest and stomach.  I kept asking Kristen to look at it (sexy huh), and she refused.  The odd thing to me was that it wasn’t on the surface, and the bumps kept getting bigger.  I waited a few weeks, and it didn’t go away.  So, I went to the doctor.

He looked, and asked me if I had any parasites in the house.  What?  Why would I?  Oh yeah, well Cooper had ticks, I told him.  What he then explained to me has forever been etched on my brain.  He said that the tiny ticks will burrow in hair follicles – into your body.  Where there is plenty of blood.  Gorge themselves, and then they’re stuck.  With that, he stuck a needle in my chest and drained a couple of these fat ticks.  I almost threw up – just like you did in your mouth just now.

At the end of my visit, the doctor gave me a prescription of what turned out to be napalm for your body.  He told me to rub it all over my body – and anyone who had been in the house for an extended period of time. 

Enter Kristen.  I invited her to lunch (romantic), gave her the scoop, and asked her if she could pick up the napalm.  When she told her sister, she was accused of being naïve – right like I had that weird kind of chest STD. 

When we got home, I liberally applied the chemical and left it on all night.  And I applied it more liberally in the area that any guy wouldn’t want ticks crawling.  After my skin started to peel, I went back to the doctor.  He treated my chemical burns (2^nd or 3^rd degree – doesn’t matter), and I had to treat it for months to come.

Though I had already decided to ask Kristen to marry me, I knew then and there that no one else would put up with me, laugh with (and at) me – like Kristen.  Even when she gets ticked off!