Tag Archives: children

Don’t Call Me a Hallomeany

The following was originally published in October of 2012.

Not a Hallomeany

I am not a big Halloween guy. I don’t get in to the dressing up, and all that. For that matter, I don’t really celebrate the holiday.

However, I am not a total Hallomeany. I am not the Halloween version of Scrooge. For example, when a little girl asked what I thought of her costume, I didn’t say, “You look more like a prostitot than a princess.” I said, “You look very nice!”

When the little boys come around dressed like monsters, I always shiver like I am scared. When they dress like superheroes, I ask if they can fly. And when they look like a cat, dog, or freakazoid satanic mutt from the pits of hell, I say, “Wow! Do you have fleas, too?”

Wiggin’ Out

So, even though I don’t really celebrate Halloween, I try to keep the kids on the bus from thinking I am a “legalist.” What do I do? I wear a wig. This time I wore an Afro.

One little girl told me she was Little Red Riding Hood. I told her I was Big Black Afro Hood.

But the funny thing about all of this is the reaction of the elementary kids. It really made me wonder what bus they have been riding the last three months.

The Kids: (at least 1,000 times) “Mr. Baker, is that your real hair?”

Me: “Yes. It is. I was bald yesterday, but I put fertilizer on my head and my hair grew overnight.”

The Kids: “No it’s not…I bet it is a wig…that’s not your hair…let me touch it…I bet it’s a wig.”

Me:  “Of course it’s my real hair.”

The Kids:  “Is that really your real hair? You’re wearing a wig…I just know it.”

Me: (I got upset with some children who wouldn’t stay in their seats, so I got serious and took off the wig.)

A Little Girl (that has ridden the bus for 3 months): “Aaaahhhh (gasping, then giggling as she whispers to another child), Mr. Baker’s BALD!

Me:  “You THINK?! Where have you been? Did you not see me yesterday? Are you blind?”

You’ve Known Me How Long?

After telling the above story a few times, it seemed God wanted to tell me something.

I kept thinking of a conversation Jesus has with Phillip in John 14:8-9. Phillip asked, “Show us the Father.” That’s when Jesus replied in the same way I did to the little girl, “Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me?”

That got me to wondering. How long have I known Jesus? And how many times do I act like I haven’t even been paying attention to His presence? How many times have I been surprised by an answered prayer? How many times have I doubted, only to find Him faithful?

“You’ve known Me how long?” Long enough to know better.

1 Comment

Filed under Christian Maturity, God, Humor, Life Lessons

Happy Fox Is Leaving

If you have lived for any amount of time, like most of you surely have, I’m positive there’s been a time or two when the air was knocked out of you by some bad news.

Think of something you’ve experienced – not so bad as the death of a loved one, though, – and you’ll understand how I feel right now.

Names

The first thing you need to know is that I name children on my school bus. If that sounds strange, the reason is because sometimes I can’t remember their parent-given names, especially early on in the school year. Therefore, I give them a name in the same way my Native American ancestors did; I name them based on something I see.

For example, one girl is tall and thin as a stick, so I call her Sticky. There’s a boy who always runs from his house to the bus, so I call him Runny Boy. Flower Girl lives on a street called Magnolia. Flower Girl’s little sister, a 5th grader who started riding my bus in Kindergarten, blew bubbles on the bus, so… her name is Bubbles, a name which she fiercely defends (she’ll go by that name in college one day).

Another little girl started riding my bus four years ago, I believe. The thing that set her apart from every other child on my bus was her smile – it was constant and predictable. So, when she started riding my bus it was cooler weather, therefore she always wore a hat that looked like a fox head (with ears and all). That’s when I started calling her Happy Fox.

The Notification

This afternoon, as I was standing in the big room where all the children come to sit in their designated areas, each one with a sign that displays the number of the bus they will ride, Happy Fox walked up to me with only half a smile.

“I’m gonna be leaving you,” she said with an uncharacteristically somber tone.

“What? You’re gonna be leaving me?” I asked jokingly.

“Yeah,” she said, “I’m not going to be riding with you anymore.”

A little shocked, I replied, “Really? Why not?”

With an brave little attitude that some kids have – the kind that care about the feelings of others and don’t really expect your sympathy – she explained, “Yeah, well, my mom and dad are breaking up, and I’ve got to go live with my dad…so I won’t be riding anymore after Friday, I think.”

That.  Hurt.  On.  So.  Many.  Levels!!

The Others

Here’s the thing: God hates divorce! You want to know why? Well, besides the fact that it is the opposite of what God wants, which is a picture of faithfulness that mirrors His faithfulness to us, it hurts a LOT of people, especially the children!! … And the bus drivers!!!

Too often couples will separate for the most petty of reasons. Others break up for good reasons, but the reasons were preventable. Nevertheless, no matter the reason, there are very few of them that are insurmountable, should the offended couple think of others besides themselves.

Today was a good example of the ripple effects divorces have. Sure, some couple thinks their lives are going to be better now that they don’t live with each other, but children are going to suffer; future families are going to suffer; risks for many bad things are going to go up; and even people like me are going to cry, get in an ill mood, bite the heads off their own families, and write depressing blog posts at the end of the day.

I just pray that Happy Fox can keep that smile.

2 Comments

Filed under Defending Traditional Marriage, Depression, Divorce, Parenting, Relationships and Family

Happy 16th Birthday, Haley!

Sweet Sixteen

Today (July 28th) my youngest daughter, Haley, turns sixteen. I am so happy for her, but it does make me feel old.

Haley has always been the serious one, the only baby in the family who would look at the photographer trying to make her laugh and say with an expression, “Are you serious?” No joke, if you were to look back at all of our girls’ baby pictures, Haley is the only one who very rarely smiled. Thankfully, she got the smile to working.

image

But Haley is not longer a baby  – she’s sixteen. That’s 16. That’s driver’s license age. That’s the same age as Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles (although I have no idea how old Molly was when it was filmed). Am I ready for my serious little baby girl to ride around with a 20-something in his daddy’s Rolls Royce?

Uhmm… No. I’m not.

The Birth Announcement

Do you want to know how I first heard about Haley? Sure you do, or you’d quit reading.

Sixteen years ago I was working in Hopkinsville, Kentucky at Fuqua-Hinton Funeral Home, while my wife and other two daughters were still in Chattanooga. My wife had been trying to find a way to tell me she was expecting, but could never track me down. Finally, I was stopped by an older, Lurch-like funeral home worker as I was coming out of my office.

“Anthony, I need to tell you something… You need to sit down.”

“What’s going on?” I asked with a little curiosity.

Looking down at me with little expression and with a matter-of-fact tone he said, “You’re wife called. She’s pregnant. You’re going to have a baby.”

Yeah, that’s how I found out.

The Wildcat

July 4th at the park.

July 4th at the park.

In case you didn’t get it, Haley was born in Kentucky, so that makes her a Wildcat. Now, she is not a big Kentucky Wildcat fan, or anything, but the name fits, that’s for sure.

Haley is anything but placid. Haley is as matter-of-fact as the funeral home where I worked, always serious, even when she’s having fun. But Haley is no one to be trifled with; she’s a gun-loving, knife-wielding, fish-catching, John Deere-riding kind of girl with an a hankering for action.

Haley loves to dress up with an elegance that rivals Grace Kelly, but give her half-a-chance and she’ll get down and dirty picking weeds out of mulch and hauling rock with a wheelbarrow. As a matter of fact, she’s a little entrepreneur: she’s started her own little business called “Hard-Work’n Southern Girl.”

Doing the hard work, like her grandpa and great-granddaddy before her.

Doing the hard work, like her grandpa and great-granddaddy before her.

Boldness

But if there is anything about Haley that makes me most proud is her boldness; Haley is fearless when it comes to approaching people. This trait can be especially useful when trying to sell a box full of my books to total strangers. Haley has no problem walking up to someone and offering them a flyer, asking them to buy a book, or walking up to a total stranger in need of help and offering hers.

Haley helping after stormWhen a storm comes through our community and blows down trees that block the road, Haley is the first to look for ways to help a neighbor…even when the neighbor looks a little scary and has a chainsaw (my wife took the picture – she stayed in the car while Haley got out and helped).

But it’s when she is bold about her faith in Jesus…when she walks up to a stranger and invites him to church… when she’s waiting in line somewhere and finds a reason to offer them one of my business cards and says, “You should come hear my dad preach”… when she wants to help out in the projects where the children of drug dealers need Bibles…

When she’s taken life’s tragedies and her own brokenness as an opportunity to make things right for others who’ve also been wounded and hurt…

When she reaches out to the unloved, the unlovely, the friendless, and the forgotten…because that’s what Jesus would do…

THAT is what makes me the proudest dad in the world.

November, 2015

Volleyball Banquet, November 2015

Happy birthday, Haley! I love you!!

Celebrating the b-day at Summit @ Bryan College. We brought roses :-) Katie, is on the right.

Celebrating the b-day at Summit @ Bryan College. We brought roses 🙂 Katie, is on the right. Can you pick out Sean McDowell in the upper left corner?

6 Comments

Filed under Parenting, Relationships and Family

The Day After

The celebrations are over; the children aren’t quite as nice as they were yesterday; the cards have been opened; all the masculine gifts now sit unwrapped…

It’s the day after Father’s Day.

Now, go be the kind of dad described in those cards.

1 Comment

Filed under Christian Maturity, Parenting, Relationships and Family

Girl Logic 101

A Pedagogical Surmise

As most of you are aware, I drive a school bus, and on my school bus there are several young girls who love to make fun of their male counterparts. With regularity they repeat a little rhyme which is suppose to show that girls are not only smarter, but inherently more capable of seeking an education.

They claim: Girls go to college to get more knowledge. Boys go to Jupiter to get more stupider.

jupiter

Jupiter. Credit: HubbleSite.org

If that is so, then the following points are in order:

1. Don’t you think that it takes a little more knowledge to go to Jupiter than to college? One requires the use of a multi-billion-dollar space ship; the other your daddy’s car.

2. In order to have acquired the technical skills to travel to Jupiter, the boys must have already attended a fine engineering college or university, maybe even grad school? Then they must have been able to pass the extremely demanding requirements to be accepted into the space program. And what is it you’re studying in college?

3. If the boys now have the ability to travel to where NASA has yet to plan, and if the girls have yet to finish college, there is evidently a MASSIVE learning gap between the two. Therefore, should they get “stupider” while on Jupiter, and yet still (by implication) have the ability to navigate a return trip to earth, then they still will have retained a cognitive advantage over Buffy and Bambi, the bantering sorority sisters.

4. “Stupider” is not a word. Therefore, ladies, I would suggest you enroll in some remedial English classes before you dive into the full-blown college stuff. Knowledge is power!

So, girls, what’s your point?

Leave a comment

Filed under General Observations, Humor, politics

Messin’ Wid Widdle Minds

Would-be Grandpa

I’m not a grandfather, but I act like one. You know, the kind of old guy that says what he want to say when he wants to say it, then blames others for not understanding his wisdom? That’s me. I’m an up-and-coming codger.

DSC_1390Grandfathers are also notorious/famous for telling tall tales, embellishing the facts, and leaving grandkids confused about actual historical events. Of course, the point of those stories is to keep a kid’s attention for more than 30 seconds; the straight truth can be boring at times.

So, even though I’m not literally a grandpa, I play one on the school bus. It keeps me entertained.

The Conversation

Many times on Facebook I share short little conversations I’ve had with children on the bus (they say the darndest things, you know). However, today I’m skipping Facebook and going straight to the blog.

I’m sure all of you are gonna hate me after you read this.

Me: Good morning.

5th Grade Boy: Good morning.

Me: How are you feeling today? You holding up?

Boy: What? Yeah, I’m ok. Why?

Me: I mean, it must be pretty hard; I heard the bad news.

Boy: What bad news?

Me: About your goldfish dying.

Boy: What? I don’t have a fish. At least not anymore. I haven’t had a fish in a long time.

Me: So it died.

Boy: I don’t know. I guess.

Me: Well I’m proud of you for taking it so well.

Boy: Uh, ok.

Me: And I heard about your cat, too. That was horrible.

Boy: Huh? What about my cat? Nothing happened to the cat.

Me: Well, I heard it died in a horrible freak lawnmower accident. I know that must be hard on you.

Boy: What? My cat didn’t die in a lawnmower accident! He just ran away.

Me: Ok. If that’s what they tell you. You believe that.

         (temporary silence)

Boy: Guess what!? (says the boy to another kid in a seat beside him) I had a cat die in a freak lawnmower accident! Cool, huh??

I pity my grandchildren, don’t you?

Leave a comment

Filed under Humor

Just Don’t.

imageWord of advice… Never drink from an elementary school water fountain.

Just saying.

 

6 Comments

Filed under iPosts, wisdom

Please, Daddy! Just try it!

Fish

I like tuna fish (mostly). I like it when it comes out of a can or when it is dolled up with a little Tuna Helper.

I like catfish, just as long as I can find all the bones and not choke.

I like whatever kind of fish my black brethren fry up in big pots. Honestly, it wasn’t until about three years ago that I attended my first “fish fry.” It was fantastic! One of my daughters and I were the only white people there and we didn’t have any idea what to expect, so when we were asked if we wanted mustard, hot sauce, and slaw on our white bread, what else could we say but, “Of course!” Heavenly, I tell you. Heavenly.

I like perch, brim, and bass caught fresh and pan fried on the shore. Oh…my…goodness!

I even like fish and chips.

But I DO NOT LIKE SUSHI!

Yellow Tail

Yesterday I went out to lunch with someone who picked up the bill. Since I didn’t have to pay, I chose not to be picky when it came to where we ate.

“Do you know where (a certain Japanese restaurant) is?” he asked. “I think so,” I replied. “Great! I’ll meet you there at 11:30.”

When my daughter, Katie, found out where we were going to eat she insisted I try one particular item – the “Yellow Fin” (as in raw, uncooked Yellow Tail tuna).

I did. Here’s the proof. I took a picture.

photo

Why I Don’t Like Sushi

It’s raw. Raw is good for things like vegetables and language, but not meat.

It’s cold. Cold fish is just wrong…unless it’s tuna on lettuce.

It’s sticky. I like sticky rice. I like sticky candy. I don’t like sticky meat.

It’s practically flavorless. By “practically” I mean it has a little flavor, but not much. The flavor it does have is that of raw, cold, sticky, dead, fish market. If you have to eat it with ginger and wasabi to make it edible, it ain’t.

I’m an American. What we catch and kill we cook before we eat it. At least that’s the kind of American I am; all others are sushi-sissies.

and lastly,

I could take a laxative and have the same effect. Do I need to explain? At least the meeting went well.

YOUR THOUGHTS?

14 Comments

Filed under America, Food

“I Love You, Mr. Baker”

Cold Mornings

I don’t care how long I live, I’ll never enjoy getting up and going outside in the dark on a cold, damp winter morning to crank up a cold, diesel-powered school bus. There is literally nothing pleasant about it, from the pre-trip inspections in the dark to the unwelcome loud noises and alarms that accompany starting up the engine; it’s like a Monday morning every morning.

Furthermore, cold mornings are worse when you have a cold – like when everything aches, your head hurts, you have no energy, and a box of Kleenex is your friend. This morning was one of those mornings, but at least I only used two tissues.

Coffee helps.

Back Story

My morning started off cold, dark and depressing, but it did get better. However, before I get to the happy part, I have to give you the back story.

This year a little girl named Helen started riding my bus. From the very first day I noticed that she was very shy, very quiet, and non-emotional. I would say, “Good morning,” but she would never respond, only look at me and pass by.

Little Helen, just a first-grader, I believe, always wore the same clothes, at least for the first few weeks. At one point I began to wonder if the little blue uniform dress she always wore was all the clothes she had. Then one day she walked out of her house and stepped onto the bus wearing a bright, covered in flowers, happy yellow dress. I had to comment.

“Wow! That’s a beautiful dress you have on today!” I exclaimed. Then the little girl stopped, looked me in the eye, smiled, and went on to her seat. She didn’t say “thank you,” or anything, but she smiled, so that was progress. But now, guess who always says “Good morning, Mr. Baker” “Have a great day, Mr. Baker,” and “Bye-bye, Mr. Baker”?

Guess who drew me a picture of a flower?

The Morning Got Warmer

Well, this morning, still feeling sick and a little bit discouraged (did you read yesterday’s post?), I came to little Helen’s house. Like normal, she ran out her door as if she knew in advance I was coming down the street, even though I’ve never figured out how she can tell, since there are no windows facing the direction from which I arrive. On one arm she carried her book bag, while in the other hand she carried a plastic bag a fourth her size.

Even Bobble-head Phil was shocked!

Even Bobble-head Phil was shocked!

Helen climbed the stairs into the bus, handed me the bag, then said, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Baker…This is for you. It’s all for you.” Shocked, I said, “Well thank you! I appreciate that!” Then she reached across and put her arm around me and said, “I love you, Mr. Baker.”

“I love you, too.”

Sometimes when we feel discouraged, God let’s us know that we really are making a difference. It’s not such a cold day, anymore.

7 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

Kids Spitting and Truth Telling

The following is what I am planning to make the last entry of my new book. Tell me what you think.

“Unexpected Truth”

Every once in a while a bus driver, or anyone for that matter, may find himself saying, “I didn’t see that one coming!” In other words, every once in a while something happens; somebody says something that you would have never imagined. Let me tell you about one of those “once in a while’s.”

Spitting Accusations

Kids are always doing stuff to each other to be aggravating. You have probably witnessed children throwing spit wads, taking items out of another’s book bag, or hiding a child’s shoe right before her stop. No? Well what about spitting on each other?

Oh, yes, children are well-accustomed to spitting on each other, especially boys. Now, they never admit to doing it; they usually blame it on the one kid with no salivary glands. But there was this one time when a boy on my bus accused a girl of spitting on him when she actually didn’t. How do I know that she didn’t? She showed me proof!

So, “Jack” hollered from the back of the bus, “Mr. Baker! ‘Jill’ spit on me!” Before I could rationally respond, another voice came from the back, the voice of the accused, crying, “No I didn’t – he’s lying!” Since I was in the process of driving and there was no place to pull over and deal with the situation, all I could do at the moment was respond with a simple request: “STOP SPITTING!”

A moment passed, then Jill came up to the seat behind me (which is dangerous and against the rules, by the way). “Mr. Baker,” she said in a tone laced with disgust, “I did not spit on Jack; he spit on himself after he spit on the seat.”

What?” I asked. “He’s spitting on the seat?! That’s gross!”  Incidentally, this is one of those times when I find it appropriate to ask: why do people of any age find enjoyment in recreational spitting? Why waist perfectly good saliva when there’s nothing necessarily nasty to expel from one’s mouth?

Anyway, a moment or two later, Jack came up to share his side of the story. “Mr. Baker, Jill did spit on me! See my shirt? See, this is her spit…she spit on me! See?”

I couldn’t argue with what I saw. There, as plain as the marks on a Dalmatian, were wet spots where something liquidy had collided with his shirt. Somebody had spit on him.

“Jill!” I yelled, “Why did you spit on Jack?” From the back of the bus came an insistent reply, “But I didn’t! He spit on himself just to get me in trouble!”

The Truth Comes Out

Where’s Solomon when you need him? Why can’t school buses be equipped with portable DNA equipment? How was I supposed to determine who spit on whom? How could I prove who needed to be punished with a stern warning and a verbal reprimand? The answer came in a way I never would have dreamed, but I will never forget.

“Mr. Baker…” Jill had made her way back up to the seat behind me, again while I was driving. “Jill, you need to sit down!” I told her.

“But Mr. Baker…” Let me just pause here to try to describe Jill’s way of saying my name. Jill spoke with a slightly non-emotional, matter-of-fact, drawn-out southern drawl. It sounded more like “Miiis-turr Buh-ayyy-kurr…”

“Mr. Baker, I didn’t spit on Jack; he spit on the seats and then on himself to make it look like I did it,” she said. “But I didn’t, and I can prove it.”

“Really,” I asked.

“Yessir,” Jill replied. “You see, Jack was eating green candy, and the spit on his shirt was green – mine is not…SEE!

At that point, just around my right shoulder, came the arm of a little girl. Attached to that arm was a palm, and in that palm was half an ounce of spit – yes, spit! It looked like a blob of clear silicone!

“It wasn’t me that spit, ‘cause my spit is clear, seeeee Mr. Baker?”

I couldn’t argue with her. She proved her point. There was the proof puddled in the palm of her hand, clear as day. I nearly threw up.

Life Lesson

We may not like it, but sometimes the truth is hard to stomach – and nothing like what we expected.

The simple fact is that truth isn’t always pleasant; more often it is nasty. No woman wants to hear the truth when she asks, “Does this dress make me look fat?”  No man wants to hear the truth when he asks, “How did I do with the laundry?” But sometimes the truth has to be told to make a difference. Unfortunately, to play off the words of Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men, many can’t handle the truth.

For example, there is a saying that goes, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” Do you know where that saying came from? It comes from Jesus. He said, “If you continue in my word, then you are my disciples indeed; and you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free” (John 8:31-32). The part that is hard for many to stomach is the part where He says, “If you continue in my word…” In other words, in order to know the truth that will set one free, one must be a follower of Jesus Christ.

Some say that truth is relative, that it changes with the circumstances of life. Others have said that there is no truth, only perception (Gustave Flaubert). However, without truth there can be no lie, no wrong, and no remedy for the spit on some kid’s shirt, not to mention the darkness in our hearts. But when we follow Jesus, we can rest assured there is Truth to know, for He said in John 14:6, “I am the WAY, the TRUTH, and the LIFE…”

Route Suggestions

  • When faced with a tough situation, one that demands you make a wise decision, ask God for help. James 1:5 says, “If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God…”
  • Don’t ask someone to tell you the truth about how you look, how well you’re doing your job, etc., unless you’re willing to hear the truth.
  • Don’t “kill the messenger.” If someone does try to tell the truth, don’t get angry when they say the dress makes you look fat. Just get angry because they weren’t sensitive enough to change the subject.
  • Read the book of John in the Bible. Make a list of the claims that Jesus made. Was He telling the truth? For the atheist or agnostic, that may be a truth too hard to handle, but it can set you free.

3 Comments

Filed under book review, Faith, General Observations, Humor, Life Lessons, salvation