3rd Grade Recognition Ceremony

Squirt's school had their 3rd Grade Recognition Ceremony today.  He received an award for A-B Honor Roll and the classroom Writing Award.  I can't believe that he will be a 4th grader next year!  Time really flies!!  But for now it is time to get ready for an active summer--karate lessons, swim lessons, VACATION, and a birthday party!

Play Days and Trike-a-Thons

Friday was the annual Pirate Play Day at Squirt's school and the annual Trike-a-Thon at Scooter's school.  Eric and I both went to Scooter's event, then I spent the whole day with Squirt.  I have the bright red face and arms to prove it!!  Even after making sure the entire class was sprayed down with sunscreen, I failed to make sure I got some on myself!  But we had a great time playing tug of war, bungee racing, and then playing in the water on the giant water slide and watching all the teachers get doused by the kids with water balloons.  The funniest part, though, was watching the teachers douse each other!

Scooter has decided that her helmet is too big, and that she needs a SpiderMan scooter and helmet just like one of the kids in her class.  She has reminded me several times since yesterday morning that we still have not gone to get her a SpiderMan scooter and helmet.

Squirt's class came in second in the tug of war.  There was some controversy at the end of the war about whether or not the winning team's teacher (a man) helped the team.  It was determined that he did not in fact cheat, although I am not sure the rest of the third grade agreed!  There were no hard feelings though.  Squirt's class even shared their pizza with the winning team at the end of the day!

You say Couch Potato, I say CrouchPotato

You’re probably asking yourself “Why The CrouchPotato Spud Report? “. I picked up the handle CrouchPotato in college from a friend who had a nickname for everybody. Honestly, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with it to begin with. I had always hoped to pick up one of those awesome nicknames. There are so many cool ones out there. Movies are partly to blame for my high expectations. Iron Eagle gave us Maverick, Ice Man, Goose, Viper, Jester, Cougar, Wolfman, Slider, Merlin, Hollywood, and Stinger. Then there are the classics… The Duke, Old Blue Eyes, The Rat Pack.

The fact I grew up surrounded by men with great nicknames doesn’t help either. I grew up in the oil fields of West Texas, surrounded by men of solid character and hard work ethics. One of the most memorable nicknames, in my mind, was given by my grandpa to a guy with the last name Leak. The guy was young and grandpa proclaimed him too small to be a leak and dubbed him “Drip”. As far as I know that nickname is still with the guy. It’s not one you get away from easily. Then there’s my dad. A man of high standards, rock-solid ethics, strong character, wisdom and a heart of gold. A man doesn’t survive more than forty years in the oil business as a welder without those things and several dozen guardian angels. It’s a hard and unforgiving career choice. Among my group of friends, he picked up the nickname Torch from a college buddy of mine. You’d think he picked it up because of his skill with the tools of his trade. But you’d be wrong. In spite of his attention to detail and understandable obsession with safety, he still must rely on others to do their part on the job. Reassurances of a separator vessel (used to separate petroleum components from water) being purged and only containing brine water were apparently premature. As he cut the steel lines loose from the vessel, flammable petroleum still in the vessel ignited and proceeded to spew onto the ground. As he managed to pull himself and his equipment out of the path of liquid fire, he watched as it scorched the paint off everything in its path. Thankfully nobody was hurt. This is frequently not the case with oil field accidents. But the paint job on the drilling rig was effectively “torched”.

Over time, of course, I have come to two realizations about nicknames. First, it wasn’t the nicknames that made the people so cool. Quite the opposite. It was the people behind the nicknames that I admired and respected. I have been fortunate to know many great men and women whose paths have crossed with mine. I have endeavored to learn from them and seek their counsel. They are respected among their friends, family and colleagues. Which brings me to realization number two: There is no higher honor than to be given a nickname by a friend, regardless of the name you’re given.

I wear CrouchPotato as a badge of honor and wouldn’t trade it for the world. So what about the spud portion of this blog? With a little creative license, a nickname offers limitless opportunities. I have a whole “spud” family now… My wife, who married into the CrouchPotato nickname. Willingly and knowingly, I might add. And of course my two little spuds have picked up nicknames of their own… Squirt and Scooter. I suspect my son will outgrow Squirt at some point. Scooter may actually stick with my daughter for some time. I hope one day to be the man behind the nickname worthy of their respect and admiration. I hope they, too, have friends that love them enough to give them a nickname they can call their own.

Something New

So after becoming a dedicated follower to a couple of friend's blogs, I have decided to try one of my own.  This will be a new experience for me, as I haven't always been much of a writer.  Maybe I can get Eric to ghost write for me.  Anyway, stay tuned for more reports to come as I set off to keep a journal of the life and happenings in the world of the CrouchPotatoes!