Fat Daddy

Frustration mounts.

You probably didn’t come here to get my take on the latest shenanigans coming out of our nation’s capital. I’ll probably just refrain at least in this format. I’ll give you a hint, though. I am a fan of the Revolution that began this country.

A big, big fan.
But I digress.

Frustration mounts.
I am surrounded by frustrated people.
And not just in the federal government.

We have a new mayor. The city paid the lawsuits as a result of his philandering. He was then caught taking a bribe by the FBI. He’s out and going to jail.

Our county government has problems also. Somebody may yet go to jail as well.
And then there is our school district.
If I told you, you would find it hard to believe.

Not only does frustration abound, craziness does too.

For a long time, I wanted to be a politician. But then I realized I would for the most part either have to be a liar, cheater, schemer, swindler, or manipulator… if not, then at the very best, I would be in a tiny small minority.

Yeah.
I am probably painting with an overly wide brush.
But you’d have to do the hard work of proving me wrong to change my mind.

At this point, I’d do better to just call them idiots and leave it at that.

Frustration mounts.
For many, it is a slowly seething pot that is about to reach it’s boiling point.

I could easily volunteer for president of the frustration club–at least for the branch that deals with the federal government.

While I am hopping mad at lots of stuff going on in this country, it’s politics and governance is not by far my biggest frustration.

Want to take a guess where or in whom my greatest frustration lies?
Hey God, my greatest frustration is you!

Far from intending anything disrespectful or blasphemous, I imagine God saying, “I know, son, I know…”
And yet frustration mounts.

I wrote the other day about hanging on.
It was good advice for me to hear.
Apparently, I still need the reminder.

But the truth is my patience is wearing thin.
And I am tired. Very tired.
I keep thinking about and asking myself how much longer will I be frustrated and stymied? How many more lessons do I have to learn until some of the old me can be comfortably a part of the new me? How long, God, how long?

Frustration mounts.
As a result, tonight, I am self-medicating.

Tonight I am writing with my drug of choice right beside me.
Yes, I did say drug, but it’s not what you think…

I am frustrated.
I am impatient.
I am weary.
But I am growing full and momentarily contented as the stack of fig newtons slowly dwindles away chased by a beautiful glass of cold, cold milk!

And I am smiling with a memory of my sweet Cole… I can clearly hear him say mischievously as the cookies are devoured… You fat, daddy. You fat.

Maybe so, son.
Maybe so.

Frustration mounts.
Relax and have a cookie.
Chances are, you can’t do much about it anyway!

(Somebody will probably have to remind me of this tomorrow…)

Les Ferguson, Jr.