I went to the Science Center with my son’s second grade class today as a chaperon. I found out I had chaperon duties when I arrived at the school in the morning in response to the invitation: “would you like to go on the field trip with us?” But I don’t mind wrangling a few brats for a half day – I wrangle 150 soldiers all weekend and it’s about the same job description…

Of all the great story opportunities from this little junket – I only lost one brat, and even then for only a couple of minutes – my favorite was the “ABC game” I played with my boy on the bus ride home. We were the last ones on the bus for the return trip due to the fact that the experts at the center lost my backpack, which they insisted I leave with them after lunch. (See Detroit Science Center Intelligence Story.)

So, now in the front of the bus, alone – or so I thought – with my boy,

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In the midst of my normally chaotic duties as the Commander, I was approached this morning by a young tenacious Staff Sergeant that I did not recognize. This is not completely out of the ordinary as, even though I’ve been here a year now, I don’t know all my soldiers on a personal level, yet.

We run continuous operations here – operations that I can’t halt simply to declare that I want to see all my soldiers in one place at one time. So, as things continue on normally, I meet and get to know them one at a time, starting with the ones most geographically close to me, first and working out… then working on meeting those with those same duties but operating on other daily shifts. Finally I’ve been trying to identify, by roster, those people, through sheer chance (or otherwise), have not drilled on the same weekend as our main body since the time I assumed command.

In any event, I made what fate would eventually prove to be a mistake and made eye contact with the Staff Sergeant. Accepting the slight rise in my eyebrows as an invitation to a monologue, she began to speak. To some, speaking is a chore… to some a task… yet others it is an activity. But to her it was a state of being.

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Ok. I’m a bit of a mess. No. I mean more than usual. Yesterday I asked Christy where she wanted me to put the stove and the refrigerator while I put the floor in underneath them. She told me to leave them where they were. I explained that they would have to be moved to install a floor underneath them but she persisted. In the end, she convinced me to move them over, install the floor under them and then move them back. This seemed like a good compromise. In hindsight, it was a very poor decision. Did I mention that the primary problem with the old floor was refrigerator gouges??? Well – they’re back. Fortunately, this time, they’re small – or at least in spots not so noticeable.

So, did I say this job was going to take one day? I’m almost halfway done now at the end of day two. The laminate is well designed. You just “snap” it together. and then you have to “tap” the pieces laterally down to join up with the previously installed board in the same row. I pried on one so hard that the wall shifted: it didn’t budge. Some work well, others fight to the bitter end. I think I’ll be finished by tomorrow night. If not, I’m just going to move out. My hands are bleeding from multiple cuts and bruises and I think I’ve contracted carpel tunnel. (In both wrists.)

I awoke after only 2 hours of sleep to write this because God herself wanted me too. Actually, I know God is male through the process of deduction: Men dominate the world. I think this is a well documented fact and not my opinion. A fact that may be slightly more open to opinion is that they certainly didn’t attain that status on the merit system. Therefor, God being a man tends to make more sense…

Anyway, God sent me an angel that told me I had to get up and write this – if angels come in the form of big sweaty, slightly oldish, slightly overweight, permanent-5 O’Clock-shadow-bearing Army Sergeants… Come on! - my mom always told me angels would appear in forms you wouldn’t expect! … more…