Taking a Sunday nap is one of the worst things I can do in terms of trying to keep myself within the normal range of the Jerk Scale, which is somewhere between a "3" and a "5". Being a "1" on the Jerk Scale means I'm probably on nitrous oxide because nothing could get me mad - or jerky - at that point. Not a Lakers loss. Not the U. of U. beating BYU at football. Not even the Taco Bell drive-thru attendant confusing my order of, "Two bean burritos with no onions" with, "Two mean burros with new bunions."
When I'm a "10" on the Jerk Scale I am annoyed by everything. Even the most trivial things set me off and I'm easily agitated. On the occasions my Jerk Factor starts creeping up toward a "10" I find myself getting upset by things like my heart beating too loud, or doing something nonsensical like challenging the bottle of Aunt Jemima to a fist fight because she's looking at me funny.
Anyway, nothing gets me up into the "8" and "9" on the Jerk Scale like a Sunday nap. There is just something wrong with my body. When I take an afternoon nap my body just completely shuts down like an American-made car hitting 100,000 miles. If my body had it's say I'd take naps for about four hours every time I dozed off on the couch. When I take "normal person" naps of 30-60 minutes I wake up cranky and grumpy with whoever woke me up - my kids, the neighbor's dog, a random R. Kelly song playing too loud in a passing car, etc. But if I do what my body wants and sleep for half the day, I wake up refreshed but feeling guilty for neglecting the most important people in my life - my family and my fantasy sports teams.
This past Sunday I took a fitful 90-minute afternoon nap on the couch and got woken up about forty-seven times. First it was the phone. Then a stupid fly with extra buzzy wings kept flying right past my ear drum. Then it was the kids. I think Aunt Jemima even woke me up once, trying to goad me into a fight. It was a horrible, horrible, awful 90-minutes and I woke up tireder and crankier than when I fell asleep. Just when I was about to hit a "10" on the Jerk Scale and sucker punch Aunt Jemima, the ever-enthusiastic Normal Mormon Wife said:
"Let's go to the Bog Gardens!"
Why not? I figured. If I'm going to be grumpy at home I might as well as be grumpy at the Bog Gardens. So we loaded the kids into the minivan and drove the the Bog Gardens, where blossoms were allegedly in bloom and the circle of life was unfolding right before our eyes, thanks to the birds and the bees producing little baby ducks or something like that.
I arrived at the Bog Gardens with a Jerk Factor of "9". I went home a "2". Here are the pictures documenting my journey down the Jerk Scale thanks to the wonders of the Bog Garden.
This is the sign that greeted me as we entered Bog Gardens. The word "Poop" alone took me to a Jerk Factor of "8." The reference to "fishing in...water that has dog poop in it" took me to a "7".
Oooohhhhh....so you're supposed to put the bag over your hand BEFORE you pick up the dog poop. Learning something new - and useful - like that made me happy, lowering my Jerk Factor to a "6".
Sweet! I guess R. Kelly won't be pestering me this afternoon after all. Call me a "5", baby!
I always suspected the Bog Garden was named after MLB Hall of Famer Wade Boggs. I'm pretty sure this is a statue of Wade Boggs holding a baseball bat in his right hand and a weird-looking feathery mitt in his left hand. I like baseball. I've officially slid to a "4.5" and we've barely entered the park!
Then we saw a duck with an obvious comb-over. 3.5 at this point. (Don't know why the picture won't rotate the right way, but it's a good photo.)
Then we saw a bunch of geese acting like complete jerks. Has anybody else ever noticed that geese are always in the 8-10 range on the Jerk Scale? Any time two geese get together they end up going all Bjork at the airport on each other within a matter of minutes. Seeing the geese act like jerks inspired me to chill out even more and my score went down to a "2".
Oooohhhhh....so you're supposed to put the bag over your hand BEFORE you pick up the dog poop. Learning something new - and useful - like that made me happy, lowering my Jerk Factor to a "6".
Sweet! I guess R. Kelly won't be pestering me this afternoon after all. Call me a "5", baby!
I always suspected the Bog Garden was named after MLB Hall of Famer Wade Boggs. I'm pretty sure this is a statue of Wade Boggs holding a baseball bat in his right hand and a weird-looking feathery mitt in his left hand. I like baseball. I've officially slid to a "4.5" and we've barely entered the park!
Then we saw a duck with an obvious comb-over. 3.5 at this point. (Don't know why the picture won't rotate the right way, but it's a good photo.)
Then we saw a bunch of geese acting like complete jerks. Has anybody else ever noticed that geese are always in the 8-10 range on the Jerk Scale? Any time two geese get together they end up going all Bjork at the airport on each other within a matter of minutes. Seeing the geese act like jerks inspired me to chill out even more and my score went down to a "2".
The upside of the Bog Garden was having my attitude go from grumpy to happy. The downside was that it required a lot of walking and corralling kids on a hot, muggy, swamp-boggy day. Phew! All that exercise wore me out.
In fact, I think I need a nap.
In fact, I think I need a nap.