Home Is Where Your Rump Rests

Home is where your rump restsEvery time people ask me where I grew up, I find that a bit of a difficult question to answer.  When I saw The Lion King, I found myself nodding in agreement to Pumbaa’s statement, “Home is where your rump rests.”

Until someone told me about the term “Army Brat.”  Then it was much simpler to explain.

My father was career military, retired when I was twenty years old and out of the house, so we moved quite often while I was growing up.  To my memory, the longest we stayed in any place was Petawawa where we lived for four years.  But most of the places we lived, we were able to walk to school.  Church, not always, but those we the two things my parents looked for in acquiring property.  I should not that they only bought houses in Gloucester (Ottawa), Greenfield Park (Montreal), and St. Albert (Edmonton).

Note: The locations listed in brackets are the cities I list first when people ask where I grew up.

And since I returned from my mission – which was served in Greece and Cyprus – I have lived in Edmonton.  Mostly.  I still moved around a lot, once every two or three years, but I have stayed within the same geographical area for the more part.

Do I have any regrets for the frequent moving?  Not really.  I am quite adept in both of my home country’s official languages because of my upbringing and where ever I go I tend to find someone I know.  At times, it seems like the best way to clean the house.  As my daughter has reminded me as of late.

A chore chart may be in order.


A Lesson In Time Management


I’m a child of the Nintendo Generation.  No shame in admitting that.  But the other night, my daughter asked for a story from my childhood.  Exactly why, I don’t know.  She also told me that Toy Story was a movie from the “Olden Days” and I felt absolutely ancient because I saw it during its initial theatrical release.

Back to gaming.

When my family acquired our grey box, it was something that everyone had a hard time stepping away from, myself especially.  Perhaps my mom was a bit more strict and I just have the memories a bit more rose coloured.  But there is one day that sticks out in my mind, that left me a little mortified.

Before I was to head off to a day of school in the Fourth Grade, I was playing a quick round of Super Mario Bros. and I was having a lot of fun because neither my brother nor sister were bugging me for a turn to play.  Then panic set in, once it struck me that things were quiet because they had already left for school.  (Please note “it” in this case, represents my situation at the time, not my mom.)

Try as I may, I got to school late and had to report to the office before I could go to class.  This is where the embarrassment began, since I was an honest kid and saw no point in lying that I had been playing video games instead of heading to class.  But to take it a step further, I had to write this reason out on a card that I then had to submit to my teacher when I got to class.  Everyone in the office staff had a bit of a tut-tut attitude towards my excuse, as did my teacher, but mercifully, she didn’t read my note out to the class.

She did summarize it though.

Needless to say, I never played video games before school again.