Bye-Bye, 2014

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Left to right: Captain Imperfecto, Nico and Christopher lazy day.

December 27, 2014

Will my kids remember anything of 2014? They're just 5 and 6. So much has happened this year, but the only thing that was important to them was their 100-yard safety zone, which expanded the circumference of the house.

"Dad, where's the boat?" Daddy, what happened to the boat?" "Daddy, is the boat broken?"

That may be my quote of the year. It's good to know that in my boy's short life span, the only concern for them is the horror of the boat being gone. Just to remind you. This year, I invested in a 30-foot boat. It's a money pit for some but a lifestyle for us.

But there were other terms used by my boys this year.

"Daddy, shut up." "No, daddy." "Leave me alone, daddy!"

This has been the year of sitting down and trying to talk or even compromise with my boys instead of applying corporal punishment. I did my best to ignore the "shut-up" overtures, but I could only ignore them so much.

This year marked the year of the iPhone for my sons. They both wanted to play with the device at the same time. Now the last time I had an iPhone was when I let it go after my first purchase in 2007 for an Android Note. But to my boys, it will forever be an iPhone.

The struggle is real with my sons. Especially when it comes to applying the seat boat.

"Put on that seat belt," I said. "Okay daddy, in a minute."

"No, put that belt on now!"

"Okay. Dad, wait a second."

"Don't make me start. Put it on now!"

My five-year-old is on a candy binge. He'll eat candy no matter where he finds it. I mean anywhere. He definitely got the sweet tooth from his mother.

"What do you want for dinner, Christopher," I said.

"Candy"

"No, no candy, eat."

"Candy"

"We aren't going through this, Christopher. Eat your food."

"Candy."

You're going to bed without dinner, I mean it."

"Candy."

"Candy."

"Candy."

The nightmare.

Then, of course, there was the worrying about an injury. My oldest son had a partial seizure. I calmly called 9-1-1, the calm traits of being a cop. The fire rescue guys (every cop hero) told me to go to my primary. So we left and went to the primary pediatrician. I was told that since I had no appointment, there would be a two-hour wait. So we went to a children's hospital. They admitted him, but he did not have a neurosurgeon on, so I had to go to another children's hospital by ambulance. Three days later, when we got home, my youngest son caught the croup, and I had to go right back to the hospital.

Wow, bye-bye 2014. Hello, 2015. Hello January. Be good to us. Allow us to grow and prosper. May my sons and everyone's kids enjoy the youth and innocence that child brings and may we parents remember the innocence we lost so long ago. May we dream of better times to come and hope that those are the dreams that come true. Allow 2015 to be the time that we truly love our neighbor.  

Boys, if you don't remember much about this past year because of your age, I'm here to tell you that we did pretty well, and I'm looking forward to 2015. Now "go to 

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Let Christmas

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Left to right: Sugar, Christopher, Champ and Nico

December 23, 2014

I’m attempting to extend the Christmas holiday. I’m strictly playing Christmas music in my car. I’m looking at Christmas lights, on the neighborhood houses, longer then I use to, and dare I say, I’m sitting through Christmas commercials in their entirety.  

I have never been into Christmas in such a way since my youth. As I got older and more into my police career I had to work holidays and weekends. The days I worked Christmas numbed me from all the nostalgia I once had as a child. 

For a kid growing up in the tradition of Christmas I simply didn’t want Christmas day to end. What kid ever does? The food, the joy of writing a Christmas list from Service Merchandise catalog, the lights and Christmas trees made the time more memorable. The time felt magical more so than religious.

Being a product of divorced parents Christmas was about the only time having two households paid off. My situations of having two families even made my friends jealous when It came to Christmas time. Although I was more jealous they had both their parents I felt great knowing my pre-teen friends envied me!

Christmas seemed to last forever when I was a child. We would have Christmas morning at our dad’s house. Where my sister and I lived. Then our mother would pick us up and we would celebrate Christmas at the house. After we opened our gifts, there, we’d head down to Miami and spend Christmas afternoon with our grandparents and open, more gifts! But I'm older now. I have kids. My brothers and sister have kids. 

Nico and Christopher are getting big. Reaching the ages of 5 and 6 in the blink of an eye. At this current age they're finally understand what those lights and music represent. 2014 is officially the, “Dad, I want this and dad I want that” season. And it’s not because they’re spoiled. The boys aren’t only into Christmas gifts. They are very considerate with thank you's and no thank you's. And I do my best to teach them that this time of year is a joyus occasion for all of us to share. We should reconize peoples hard work and dedication and pray for good will towards their fellow man (and women).

Now, as my kids grow bigger each year, I just want Santa Claus to stay a little longer so I may enjoy this time of year again and rekindle the excitment of Chrismas morning. And maybe slow down my and their aging. I know Christmases haven't been the same since their mom died and it never will. But we have to make new traditions as well as keeping her memory alive in the spirit of Christmas. 

So let this Christmas be prolonged. Let’s listen to the music a little longer and savor the food, wine and spirits. Let’s enjoy each other’s company while we pray for peace in the world.  Let Christmas not just be the religious day it represents, but a day, that we can all share, inclusively, the joy of life together while we all prepare for another year.

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Deaths Indigestion inside my Mind

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Left to right: Christopher and Nico

December 5, 2014

I woke up at 4 A.M. early Friday morning. It was the day after Thanksgiving, and my stomach still had the overwhelming feeling of being full from a whole day's worth of overeating. Due to that overeating, I thought my sudden awakening might have been brought on by indigestion. After all, I did consume two meals from two different households, about six hours apart. That led me to wonder which house chef was at fault for my bad night's sleep.

After mulling around in my mind for around a half hour about the different foods prepared by the other cooks in their respective homes, the faces of my family replaced the pictures of food floating around in my mind. 

My sister's face revolved around my memories of turkey and pies. Even though she didn't peer much into the dining room while she prepared a thankful dinner, I still remembered seeing her glance up from her heavy cooking. At the same time, she made final preparations for her signature dishes that we had longed for an entire year.  We made brief eye contact. I nodded my head, accompanied by a smile, and then looked away towards both my brothers. They were seated on the couch, not too far from me. Their conversation lingered, and I could capture what they were saying. Like my sense of smell could consume the cooking food from my sister's kitchen. 

My oldest brother had an eye on the football game between his conversations about politics and work. My second oldest brother was trying to avoid the game altogether, which is the norm, as he tried to keep the talk about occupational therapy. 

All of us are older now, in our 40s; we're a little grayer, with less hair and a little extra weight, yet we still see ourselves as the same kids we grew up with. In that respect, nothing has changed. 

I remember us all around the Christmas tree as children, looking through our gifts. It was a time when we still believed in Santa Claus. Of course, it all seemed simpler when we remember our youth now that we are older. We didn't know death or disease. We needed to figure out how the world worked. We were genuinely innocent in a world of pain and heartache. 

My attention turned towards our parents. Divorced now for almost 40 years, they still come together to celebrate the holidays with their kids. But now, on this day, they were the ones that seemed different. 

My dad, a workaholic, seemed tired, withered, and frail. My mom looked the same in her older age, so I only put her looks into perspective once I added her age.

There was a time when they seemed invincible. That they were going to be around until the end of time. However, tonight, as I lay in bed and ponder, my thought process brought me to the sad realization that, like my grandparents, my parents will pass. My kids will mourn them as I did mine. I won't have a mom and dad like my parents were then. And now, my brothers and sister will age, as my parents did, and we will soon fill their shoes as grandparents, and one day they will mourn our loss. So it goes, the circle of life. 

But damn, that justification didn't bring me any peace. It freaked me out. I still have the world at my feet. Just starting the prime of my life. I can do anything I put my mind to. But one day, I will be older than my parents (I'm sparing them the posting of their age since I would like to live a little longer). And there are so many questions I have. Are they scared now more than ever about the ending of life? Not that I would ask them something that could sound so insensitive. Their age is up there; they avoided death all their life by not dying in a plane crash, car crash, war (Vietnam), sky diving, drag racing, or bearing children. But now, time and age are catching up to them, and they can't survive aging. But thankfully for them, they seem to be on the path of a long, fulfilling life. And in the grand scheme, isn't that all anyone can ask for?

Do they worry like me? I'm anxious, and I'm not close to their age. Is this a mid-life crisis? Maybe anxious? I have always been nervous when it came to anticipation. I hate not knowing. For instance, I have to see the time, and I can barely get through a YouTube video without anticipating the end of the video. How will I anticipate turning 60, 70, or 80 as I close in on the end of an average life span?! 

Laying here wide awake in bed, my mind delved deeper, beyond age and the anticipation of death, but I looked into death itself. Holy shit! I'm going to die. I will cease to exist. And life will go on without me. What's beyond death's door? Is death a deep sleep that will awaken us into another life? Is death just a series of endless dreams while I lie in blackness? Or will nothing happen at all? Just a black hole of blankness that I won't even know is there? For example, when I fall into a deep sleep at 9 P.M., open my eyes, and suddenly it's 5 A.M., is that time between eight and eight hours an example of death?

At this moment, I'm alive, but the fact remains that even if I can hide under these covers and not face the day because the thought of dying numbs me with fear, it is right about the time a damn plane could crash through the roof and take me out.  And the ironic thing is, I don't even live close to the airport! I guess "When it's your time, it's your time."

Unknowns suck. Unknowns are only known after the fact, and those people who are dead are in the know now. And only they can answer that question. The only thing good about a deep sleep is the experience of quiet peace. However, if there is life after death, where are the billions of people that died before my existence? Why hasn't there been concrete evidence of a loved one's return? Damn, why am I overthinking at 4:23 A.M.  

 These thoughts make me tremble and shake. The reality of life is that I am alive at this moment, but eventually, my time will come. And no matter how hard I try to figure out where I will be when I die, how I will die, and most importantly, what will happen when I die, I hope that the death of my body will ultimately release my soul into the heavens.

I only wish I could release this indigestion revolving in my mind into the heavens, and maybe I could go back to sleep. But I can't seem to digest a thing. 

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Silver Lining Forward

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Nico and Christopher in daddy's writing chair

November 13, 2014

I glance into the heavily clouded sky and through the darkness and lighted ferocity of rumbling thunder and bolts of lighting I saw a sliver of light peering through the center of the clouds just above the western horizon. I immediately thought that that sliver of light was an omen, a silver lining, that was laid out before me as if it was a sign informing me that things that happen in life won’t control me. That at the end of the day, no matter what happened earlier in the day, there will be life tomorrow and things will be okay.

But, as soon as the good thoughts enter my brain through the left hemisphere my right side hemisphere floods my brains, emotions and feelings, with negative thoughts.

“I live in Florida so the sun breaking through a cloudy day isn’t unusual. And the message I was hoping for from this sighting wasn’t unusual either. And neither was the hope I felt resonating in my bones. I still find myself hoping that after the loss of two daughters and wife that all this loss will make sense. That this sighting of light is better than the other silver of lights because deep down I really want this to mean more however, in the end, the sight of that light is just full of shit. My problems are my problems. For better or for worse I’m fucking married to them.”

Damn, is that negative. But I don’t want to be negative. I want to believe that all the things, as if tools, handed to me in my life, are just pieces of a puzzle that will later formulate the bigger picture of what my meaning in life is suppose to be.

Its as if I’m on a mission to be accepted. And that acceptance will validate my existence. Does everyone chase this? That we just search for a group of people that will accept us and by accepting us, as a person, would mean that we have found our home?

I don’t want to join organizations; I don’t want to seek out support groups I can barely balance out the people in my life now. What a freaking disaster. I don’t want to be spending my life seeking acceptance. That’s not the meaning of life. 

All of us have something to offer the world and we can’t waste that talent. We need to believe in signs, like the silver lining, because it is that hope that things will be better, this thinking, that will keep us moving forward.

So stand up and announce to everyone: I had a bad day today. And life, well life really screwed me over, (insert your friend, job, family member, pet, god, whoever here) got the best of me and I didn’t expect that. But I will not lay here and feel sorry for myself. I will get up and walk over your bullshit, my heartache, my loss, my hurt feelings, my woes, money problems, anything that makes me unhappy and I’ll head west because that is where my silver lining is. It’s there, with or without you, that I choose to move forward because there is life tomorrow and life will move forward without me and no one will help me but myself. I need to move forward, to keep up. I need to believe there is a purpose for me today or tomorrow. My life has matter and I’m on my journey to discover just what that is. There is a silver lining forward.

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Your Disney Hosts

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Nico and Christopher Disney Resort Art and Animation

November 5, 2014

"Let's do this," I told my boys once we arrived at Walt Disney World yet again. These trips are becoming a right of passage for my boys. And they are sure acting cocky about our frequent visits. They're likely not spoiled due to our Disney trips. Even though I went for my birthday in July, again in August, September, and now this October for Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween Party. After all, this family does hold annual passes, and the intent of the annual pass is to go frequently, isn't it?

The boys are respectful, though, not selfish during these trips; they are polite and friendly and care for those around them, especially guests of Disney World. My boys act as unofficial hosts to the arriving visitors as if these people were visiting our very home. However, when Nico and Christopher walk around any Walt Disney Resort, they act as if they have lived there forever and know a thing they can teach other guests.

"Oh, the pool?" Christopher asks a bewildered guest.

Walk down the path until you see a green pole with a sign that reads Building 1; make a left, a right, follow the path, and then you'll see the gate for the pool."

That was mighty nice of him. If only Christopher knew if those were the right directions to get lost guests to their final destination. However, this was his place, and he was polite and sincere.

"Food?" Nico asks a 9-year-old, "Well, I like the chicken nuggets or pizza. Give me a side of fries and wash it down with Nestle Quick Chocolate Milk. The dining area has the perfect place for those items, but you may like their other variety of choices. More than my own favorites."

Nico may not have said that much to the bored 9-year-old. But he helped out as much as he could regarding his food choice and helping with a hard decision. Albeit choices from a picky six-year-old to a picky 9-year-old may be a losing situation! He still strutted away like he had given good advice and felt like the unofficial Walt Disney World Ambassador. It's like both boys are proud of their Disney lineage.

Disney parks like the Magic Kingdom, Epcot, Animal Kingdom, and Hollywood Studios are where most people want to go. Still, there is so much to do at a Disney resort. I recommend exploring them if you can stay out of the parks for at least one day; I suggest enjoying the hotel for its many amenities.

We stayed at Disney's relatively new Disney Art and Animation Resort on this trip. There was so much my boys wanted to touch and play with as we walked down the life-like Radiator Springs, while the surrounding area felt like Ornament Valley. I felt safe if I turned my back for a second on my boys. I knew they would only go so far due to the stimulation of the cartoon world of Cars, the movie, and its captivation on them in this controlled environment. They also have theme rooms for Finding Nemo, The Lion King, and The Little Mermaid.

The scenery was incredible as we were walking to our rooms. This little slice of earth was transformed from the big screen and placed here by the Imagineers who took it from the minds of Pixar's imagination. This Disney environment could have been like Toon Town if we were in the real life of Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Our emotions had that type of feeling that these characters were going to talk any minute!

Instead of Roger Rabbit, we had Lighting McQueen, Mater, Sally, Doc Hudson, Flo, Ramone, Flo, Sarge, and that's just a few. We were in the world of Disney's movie Cars. I wanted these life-like cars that seemed to drive right off the silver screen and onto the resort grounds to speak to us.

The boys were running down the sidewalks painted like an actual roadway from Route 66 to Radiator Springs. I have to admit, though, that I felt like a hypocrite telling the boys to get out of the road when they were playing at home, and here I am, letting them play in a simulated roadway.

My sons, Nico and Christopher, loved it. I loved it. And we enjoyed what this imaginary world gave us because this resort removed us all from the daily dealings of what life has stored for us daily. And forgetting about the world's reality is what anyone can ever ask for. Whether it's a two-hour movie, a quick trip out of town, or a hobby that clears our minds.

Escaping our lives to enjoy our children's lives represents all that we are when we choose to be parents. And why not use our yearly passes to enjoy our children's laughter and remind us what it meant to be young?

Go on, boys, this is your Disney. You're the hosts, so let your imagination run wild, but take me along for the ride. But please make sure, as hosts, I can ride with Lightening McQueen.

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The Halloween Killer, a horror short story

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Left to right: Christopher and Nico at a pumpkin patch

October 31, 2014

*A fictional story. A camp fire story, best told around a fire with friends.

It was Halloween night. The trick or treaters had gone. The bowl by the front door was empty. It was a good sign of a successful Halloween. But the night wasn't over yet. We didn't want it the day to end but we knew we would have to wait another 365 days until the next night of ghouls, would come. So to extend the weaning hours of Halloween night there was one final tale to tell. 

It was Halloween night. Kids laughter left the night. Everyone was snug in there house. Seeking safety from the creeps and goblins that remained outside....

Joel knew his time was almost up. There was no way he was going to defeat the killer that he had just witness murder a person. Joel ran as fast as he could after seeing the horrific sight in the hopes he wouldn’t be seen. He even left his best friend, Champ, his loyal dog, behind out of sheer fear.

The killer still saw him however, and gave chase leaving the lifeless body behind. The adrenaline dump Joel was experiencing quickly faded and he couldn’t run anymore due to his exhaustion. So he decided to hunker down in some bushes about 10 blocks away from the grizzly scene.

The lights around the neighborhood supplied enough illumination for this killer to catch any hint of a visual presence that Joel, was still around. And Joel knew it. And that made him scared shitless. It was that fear and his exhaustion that made him stay put. The fear paralyzed him.

Joel hid his body the best he could in order to avoid being seen. He wasn’t sure if he covered all of his body but he didn’t have time to worry because the one thing he was sure of was that the menacing man was looking feverishly for him.

Joel shouldn’t have even witnessed the murder. The killing started before Joel stepped out from his house to walk his dog after his dog hounded him by pacing back and forth by the front door. Feeling sorry for the dog Joel reluctantly got off the couch to take the dog out. It just worked out that Joel was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Had he known his neighbor were being killed, or any one that was murdered, for that matter, I highly doubt he would have left the house. And now here he was hiding in some bushes, trying his best to get away. The only other thing Joel had on his mind, other than not being killed, was if his loyal dog had survived.

Joel did his best to control his breathing. Slowly he inhaled through his nose and exhaled out his mouth. His heart was beating fast and he was sure the loud thumping could be heard a mile away.

“Boom, boom, boom.”

 If his beating heart was not bad enough, Joel’s nerves were causing him to jump ever so slightly, when he heard a new creak from a tree branch or rustle of the brown leaves that had fallen on the ground, it would place him into the highest of anxiety.

“Creeeek, (the wind howls through the branches)

Joel closed his eyes and prayed for this nightmare to go away. He begged to God to allow him to escape with his life and he’d be a good Christian for now on. His saliva was building in his mouth out of fear for making a noise while swallowing. He didn’t want to make a peep.

A branch snaps.

Joel sits up slightly. He reluctantly opens his eyes. The shadows all around him are playing games on his imaginations. Is the shadow of the moving tree the maniacs out stretched arms? The hands clutching a knife?

“Please, please, I’ll be good, God. Please save me,” Joel murmured.

He could no longer hear his heart beating. A gate that was slapping against the wooden post that was cemented into the ground and it was drowning the beating sound of his lifeblood. The gate was barely held together by a string. The string was beginning to stretch caused by the wind with its strong wind gust. As the wind would die down the string would retract pulling the gate closed and causing a loud, BANG!

Joel pushed his body closer to the trees that he took refuge under. He had to hope that he was out of the view of this killer. He couldn’t be tonights next victim. Off in a distance he heard the starting of a car. He hoped that it was the mad man driving off, giving up, on his search for the only witness who could put him away in jail.

As Joel focused on the trees moving he saw that the shadowed cast trunk of the tree morphed into two. He realized that the killer was walking his way!

“clank, clank,” the sound of a metal knife being tapped on a steel gate.

The killer had stopped at the very spot where Joel had taken refuge. The killer stood there as he looked around the surrounding landscape. His eyes fresh again as the light in the area gave him better vision. The man began to tap the edge of his knife against his pants leg.

Joel sat there ever so quietly. He closed his eyes begging himself not to give up.

“Just walk out with your hands up. He’ll go easy on you,” Joel thought.

The killer began to whistle. Was he the whistling killer? Was he whistling his theme song? What the hell was he doing?

As the man stood there, Champ, Joel’s dog, walked beside the man. It seemed like the ultimate betrayal. His best friend was going to unwittingly know he was becoming Judas and give up his friend by sniffing him out.

Joel’s breathing became more labored. He didn’t want to move but he wasn’t sure if the killer was playing a trick on him. He had seen too many scary movies. He knew the killer would turn back. He had to run. He had to live. He had to take on this killer!

“Rah!” Joel screamed.

He jumped to his feet and ran full speed at the killer! The killer turned towards him and began to extend the knife. Scared, Champ the dog ran away in the opposite direction. This was it, the finality of the night. Before the killer could fully extend his knife out Joel collided with the killer and pushed him as hard as he could sending the killer off the curb and tumbling into the street where a car struck him and killed him. It was the same car that Joel had heard starting in the distance. For the second time tonight, Joel was at a place and time but this tim it was the right place and time.

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The Beast

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Christopher sick at the pediatrician 

October 20, 2014

The beast implement itself inside my youngest child. I noticed the on slot of symptoms after picking him up from school. As a routine my boys are pretty wild, even after a long day in class. But today, Christopher was just lying on the couch lethargic. Not even the Mickey Mouse Club on Disney Jr. could motivate him. His skin was warm, his body ached, and there was no smile on his face.  Like a fairy tale of fairy’s and mythical creatures, the mythical beast of sickness had found him.

I was hesitant to write about this because of this Ebola scare going on but I can assure you, the reader, it wasn’t Ebola. But this flu was a beast, unlike I have ever seen, since I became a parent in 2008.

As the evening progressed, my son wailed and moaned, like if he was transforming into the legendary werewolf, during a full moon transformation. His persistent howls made me cringe. As a worried parent I could only think about what may have been ravishing his insides. I wanted to take his pain like any good parent would however; I could only lay by his side as he attempted to find a position that would bring him comfort.

While the beast worked on Christopher I didn’t have the luxury of tending to him full-time because there was also a restless 6- year old that I had to entertain, Nico, my oldest son. I had to be happy, sad, sympathetic, caring, neutering, loving, concerned, and thoughtful all at once. My emotions were being raked all over the human field of emotions. Nico wasn’t sick. He didn’t care who was sick. He didn’t consider how being sick affected us all. All he wanted to do was play. What six-year old doesn’t?

While my youngest son would sleep, he’d cease to be needy, but then my oldest son, with his playmate out of the picture, wanted his attention and naturally I was his newest pal.

“Daddy, watch me do this.”

“Daddy, lets play hide and seek.”

“Daddy, lets build a fort.”

After playing a merry-go-round of run of the mill games, Nico, would pause to play electronic games on my Android phone. Which he still lovingly calls, “daddy’s iPhone.” And it seemed that any break I wanted for myself, to rest, would never come.

“Ahh finally, rest,” I say out loud as I ease into my very comfortable recliner.

“Daddy,” Christopher said to me.

He was still very groggy since he had just woken up from a nap.

“Yes, buddy.”

“I’m sick,” he said, "I have to go to the bathroom now. So if you don’t mind daddy please get up and accompany me to the bathroom and assist me with releasing this beast from my body.”

I know what you’re saying to yourself while you read that last quote.

“No way your son said that.”

 And you are correct. The above content was just wishful thinking being typed out. I wish that’s the way this went but, well, it didn’t. The real version went like this.

“Daddy?”

“Ye… oh my! Christopher what just happen? Where did all that stuff dripping down your legs come from? What the heck just happen? Why didn’t you tell me? Oh, no, I’m so sorry. Oh, Jesus! Lets get you to the bathroom right away.”

And so it went for the next 2 weeks and three doctor appointments. The beast attacked him. And in between attacking him the beast leaped to my oldest son. And then it leapt to me. For the last 3 weeks of September, us boys, battled one of the worse cases of stomach pain I have had in a very long time.

Whatever my youngest son had it was truly a beast. In the end I almost resorted to a priest to exorcise this thing out of our lives. I was up to my shoulders in, well, crap, and whatever else the beast could unleash on us. I couldn’t sleep, I didn’t want to eat and I couldn’t take care of myself as well as one should since my sons were the ones that needed the most attention.

The beast may have taken my son out the first day but after two weeks he made up for that day by eating his weight in food, running without a care, and just being a 5 year old kid. We should all be so lucky. And once the beast leaves me, I will be.

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Nico, The Little Pirate

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Captain Imperfecto and Nico headed on a cruise 

October 7, 2014

I took my six-year-old son, Nico, on a cruise, and his behavior wasn't bad despite all the excitement around him. His conduct was my main fear and trepidation when taking my young child on this cruise. I'll have to admit, as you can read so far in this first paragraph, I was expecting Armageddon when I unleashed my son on that Carnival cruise ship. And that havoc I thought would begin as soon as we got off that charter bus we took to travel the 70 miles from our house to the Port of Miami.

 I had nightmares in the months since booking this trip. Nico somehow makes his way toward the control room by battling the crew as they try to thwart his mutiny in vain. Only to lose to his cunning, manipulative, six-year-old ways, and he would commandeer the ship!

"Cap'n, a little pirate has taken to twelve decks and be forcin' his way into quarters!"

"Begad, ye bilge-sucking, swine! Hold that scallywag aft, you yellow belles. It's only a lad!"

I wouldn't put that thought past my son and his cunning abilities. That also applies to my other son, Christopher. But he wasn't going on this excursion. The stomach flu had his number.

[Alarms going off inside the bridge of the giant ship.]

"C'ap'n, shiver me timbers! Ye, have a problem!" the first mate yells.

"What is it, man? Terrorists? Rouge wave?"

"No worse, c'ap'n! It's a six-year-old buccaneer, and he's taken the helm of the ship, and the keel is aimed right at the iceberg!"

[Back to reality]

Are there icebergs in the Caribbean? Well, it doesn't matter. My mind is running rampant with thoughts of mischievous deeds he could be a part of. But hey, that scenario could've happened. If you know my boys.

A friend was getting married, so naturally, I thought I would take a child. I wanted to take both my sons, but on a ship with low railing and nothing but blue sea on either side, I tried to avoid being placed into the situation of choosing who to go after first if one should go overboard.

"Sir," the security officer said, "your son went into the sea."

"Which one?"

"Both"

I couldn't risk such a travesty, so I settled for the oldest. There are perks to being the oldest son.

We entered the area where the passengers prepared to embark on their cruise. It was a large entry, much like an airline concourse. Once inside the steel and large windowpane, framed hangers, those sizeable clear glass windows gave all who entered an unobstructed view of the large steel, painted white ship.

Amazing how something so significant wasn't even trying to sink. My son and I pushed our faces against the glass in an attempt to look down at the large rope lines that moored this enormous 900-foot ship. I can only imagine the concrete the construction contractor had to pour to prevent the 70,000-ton behemoth from straying away.

"Come on, Dad, let's go. Let's get on that boat!" my son exclaimed.

"We have to check in before we board, Nico," I said.

I looked over at the line of passengers waiting for their turn. I knew I was in for some heavy negotiating with my son to keep him calm and taper his excitement. That boy wanted to board that ship. And he tried to board it now.

The line of eager people, who were smiling and laughing as their excitement exuded, moved steadily. But Nico and I were still a few ways back from entering the gangway. Nico could not stand still for a long time, so he kept himself busy by running around the line divider stanchions and knocking off the straps that separated the zigzagging people. The stanchions weaved the people into an excellent tight package instead of the line forming into a very long conga line.

With every flick of the strap, the retractable line would hiss as it rewound in the farthest away stanchion winding mechanism, where it would tuck itself away. The plastic end of the nylon seatbelt-type strap would clank on the sides of the stanchions, giving fair warning to people to move out of the way. 

The strap acted like a whip, and as it slung itself backward, people standing behind it would run for cover to avoid being struck. I would look back at the person standing behind me and cordially ask them, "Do you mind holding my place? I'm going to make my son walk the plank."

"Nico," I said as I rushed towards him, "stop. Stop. Stop." I demanded.

Nico was laughing and running away from me as fast as he could to avoid getting caught. All the while, he was slinging all the nylon stanchion straps and giggling. We weren't even on the ship yet, and here I was chasing after my Moby Dick.

I wasn't planning a fishing expedition, but this adventure was finding me. I couldn't catch this fish on the mainland. What could I expect at sea? Well, I have no choice because it's just this little pirate and me for the next three days.

860 words

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