Hypothetically Speaking . . .

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Goodbye Summer, Hello Dates!

Written By: Michael Rochelle - Sep• 09•18

There’s something in my eye.

It’s weird how we are in the first weeks of September, yet it feels like the end of something. Well, I guess it is the end of summer. Soon it will be the end of my day trips to the beach and the weather has already started to change. Kids are back in school, which is a great thing and makes the streets safe during the day again. I no longer have to worry about having my wallet stolen at the park during lunch. Kindergarteners are the worse.

There are a couple of things I intended to do during the summer that I didn’t quite accomplish. Somehow, I still haven’t learned how to get a full body tan while maintaining my modesty. Well, there was that one time I accidentally ended up on a nude beach and decided to take my shirt off and all the grandmas and grandpas yelled “No!” in unison. I get it. There are certain things people just shouldn’t be forced to see. My B cups are two of them.

I didn’t travel the way I wanted to during the summer. I may not have shared this with you, but I’m the reason they invented the phrase “Caviar tastes on a Kool-Aid budget.” You see, I had to learn the hard way that $5 only goes but so far. My bags were packed and loaded in the trunk for my cross-country drive to Los Angeles. However, I hadn’t make it across the Maryland state line before I ran out of gas and had to call my shrink to come pick me up. She charged extra for that visit.

I haven’t gone to an amusement park yet, but that may be a good thing. I don’t know about you, but the heat and I don’t get along. If I could, I would file for permanent separation. Divorce even. Heat makes me become a sweaty mess. Even after just a few seconds of exposure, you would think I was one of the “Golden Girls” going through the change of life. Now that I think about it, maybe that’s why people sometimes call me Betty White. Hmmm.

Although I haven’t made it to an amusement park, I did go to the Maryland State Fair. Wait, before you start spreading rumors about me, no, I wasn’t on a date. As a matter of fact, none of the people I invited using Match, Tinder, or BlogFarmers.com accepted my offer. However, this may be my fault because I only invited 50 potential soulmates. Maybe I should have cast a wider net. I mean, love really is a numbers game. Next time I’ll send 5,000 invites. Wish me luck.

Anyway, if you must know, I went to the fair with my parents. That’s right. My mommy and daddy wanted to go to the fair with their little muffin and I’m not ashamed! My shrink says it’s absolutely OK. I’m not sure she meant that it was OK for the three of us to hold hands and skip throughout the fairgrounds while singing Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande songs, but that is neither here nor there.

Although I am not ashamed of going to the fair with my parents, I am ashamed that my mom wanted us to get there at 9 a.m., well before the rides started and well before most of the workers had arrived. As a matter of fact, the animals weren’t even decent and ready to accept visitors. I don’t know about you, but seeing a pig wearing a nightie is not exactly my cup of tea—no judgment if it’s yours though.

I may be crazy, but I swear I heard several goats snicker as we walked by. They were probably thinking about the wild night they’d had versus my parents and I going to bed super early so we could be there at the crack of dawn. A few of the goats still looked drunk or hungover from the previous night’s festivities. Again, no judgment. We were all that age once upon a time, and we’ve all certainly had fun in a barn after hours. Well, I haven’t. I’m not that type of guy. But I’m sure YOU have.

At some point, a photographer tried to take our picture. My dad and I quickly got into our best thug poses, but you should have seen my mom practically do a 50-yard dash to escape the camera’s lens. One minute she was there, the next minute she was hiding behind a bush, peeking out to see if the coast was clear. The photographer made the slightest movement in her direction, and before you knew it, my mother had darted behind a food cart. The only thing visible was her hand reaching around for a corncob.

Ok, so I know I have a flair for the dramatic, but this was even a bit much from my viewpoint, which is saying a lot. I mean, what was she trying to hide? Who was this woman who had allegedly raised me and forced me to call her “Mom” my whole life? Was she some secret government spy trying to save the world? I wasn’t sure, but I decided that I would make it my life’s mission to find out.

As soon as I got a moment to myself, I used my cellphone to do a quick Google search. You’d be surprised what I found. Apparently, my mom has quite the infamous past. Who knew that she had starred on Baywatch? And allegedly my mom has some “interesting” photos and videos circling the web. You’d be amazed at all the information available about her on the Googler. Matter of fact, you can see for yourself. Just search the name “Pamela Anderson.”

Once my mom came out of hiding, we did get to do some really cool things. When the animals were ready to take visitors, we saw the cutest baby ducks and piglets. We even bonded with several friendly horses and a few cows. Sadly, we transitioned right into lunch afterwards and had beef hotdogs, which made me think about that one pen where the cow was missing. I’m not implying anything here. Maybe the cow was on break. Either way, PETA members should have probably skipped this paragraph.

My parents and I also did something we hadn’t done in years: we got on a ride together. And by together, I mean we all tried to fit into the same car on this one ride that we used to love when I was a toddler back in the 1940s. Unfortunately, we’ve all grown a bit, so no matter how much we huffed, puffed, sucked in, or prayed, I was forced to ride alone while my parents stayed together. Somehow, I always get the short end of the stick.

In any case, I’d like to report that all is not lost. Next week my parents and I plan on going on another date. This time, we’re going to New York. My mom wants to go to the 9/11 Memorial & Museum. My dad wants to go to Central Park. Meanwhile, I just want to try to keep them both alive. Wish me luck. Oh, and since we all know I only have $5 to last me until February, I’ve set up a GoFundMe for this venture. Thanks for your support in advance.

Michael Rochelle
Humor blog: http://www.justmichael.net/blog
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/michael.rochelle1
Instagram: humor_mike_
Twitter: @mikeyllo

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