Ovaltine. Now more than ever.

Dear Hershey's;
Bottom line: Hershey's is America!  I love it and always will, just like my country and my wife and kids.

Here's the deal. The Hershey syrup is great for everything you use it for EXCEPT making chocolate milk. Better to hear it from someone who loves you. You can certainly sweeten up your milk, you can make beige or tan milk, but quite honestly trying to make chocolate milk ain't happening. If you want to put a warning label on the bottle and say NOTICE: IN CASE OF NATURAL DISASTER OR EMERGENCY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT THIS PRODUCT CAN BE USED TO SIMULATE CHOCOLATE MILK-DRINK IN A DARK ROOM AND HOLD YOUR NOSE.
Look, guys- the syrup bottle is in the fridge, I get it...we use on ice cream and lots of other things, but the reality is that I ran out of Ovaltine and went to plan b. It made me sad, not unlike the time I tried to make a banana sandwich when I was in Iraq- one gets excited at the mere thought of it, only to have their 'over expectations' plummet to the lowest depths of depression. It will flat out make you cry is what it'll do. It'll also make you cuss.
All that to say this: Ovaltine is kicking your butt.
With all due respect to Mr. H--I am,
Sincerely yours,
George Fisher

GRANDMA IS A SISSY!

It is no big secret that my grandson, the Pottamus Rex, owns a huge chunk of my heart. It is also well known that he and I have, in the past, had "issues" when it comes time to say goodbye. As tough as I have been, and try to be, the older I have gotten the bigger creampuff I have become. I have fought it as hard as I possibly can, but most of the time the end result is snot bubbles. It's a far cry from clawing at the casket grieving wailing carry me off in a straight jacket stuff, I mean Lord have mercy, but it's still in the sentimental old fart can I have a popsicle or maybe a Large Chocolate milkshake to make it better range-in other words, its manageable. I have learned to embrace the fact I don't like it when any of my kids, and now grandkids, have to leave.

With the addition of Ms Georgia Rose Mallory, our family has expanded by two feet (I stole that from someplace)---Georgia is fast establishing herself as a force of nature much like her older brother, the Pottamus. This is evidenced by the actions of my Wifey, aka Grandma, who just spent the week with the new papoose, reveling in all that is little baby girls. She has oooo'd and ahhhh'd no less than 876 times and used the word "Precious" even more. It has left me wondering just what in the heck happened to the girl I married because this ain't her. I have never seen this much jello in my life, to include my hospital stay of two years past. Is she gushing? Does the Pope wear a pointy hat and red shoes?

Well, to conclude the visit, Wifey and the Booger, AKA Amanda, did like I USED to do, and pulled a "George" yesterday when it was time to say goodbye--Yes Sir, I saw it with my own eyes. Seems my two tuff gals messed up their mascara just a tad. These are the exact same two that roll their eyes when the Pottamus Rex and I parted ways. I could have said something smart allecky , but I knew better-Lord knows I have been there a time or two just in the past couple weeks. They were both entitled. I was just glad they weren't at each other's throats after a week. You never know with my crew.
It doesn't get any easier, but perhaps because of the new baby, The Pottamus and I are taking it to a different level. Just maybe we have turned a corner. We both grow older this year, so maybe, just maybe, we are tightening up the shot group. While the Women were carrying on, the Pottamus Rex hugged me, and then lowered his head, walking off to go back inside. He stopped and turned back around. Unable to speak, and with tears in his eyes, he tipped his cap to me. Unable to speak myself, my own eyes overflowing, I returned with my cap.
Driving away, I handed Wifey a Kleenex, almost feeling sorry for her not being able to tuff it out like the Pottamus and Me. Guess I have to show her the way.

Georgia Invades South Carolina

Dear Georgia Rose--
Welcome to Earth! Specifically, the United States of America! To be more precise, The Southeastern United States. Born in south Carolina, named Georgia, there is no way you cannot "Represent" when Elvis sings The American Trilogy--just saying. You're a triple threat already-Yay!

As it came to pass, I had just finished my 2 Yoo-Hoo (That’s a drink-you're going to love them!) lunch on Friday only to have your Grandma and Momma call me to tell me that you were arriving soon-- I drove like a bat out of you know where (well, you don't, actually, but you will hear me say this in a couple of years) to Macon (that’s in the middle of the state you were named for, and it will be your second home) dodging cars, cussing drivers (I will teach you, don't worry), and going as fast as I legally could (Your Great-Great George taught me to drive) so that I could get home to pick up your Grandma and Aunt Winnie ( really named Lyndsay when we are mad at her)--it seemed like it took forever but as it turned out we got there in plenty of time--see, there's this thing called ANXIETY that we all had trying to get to the hospital--and inasmuch as its four hours driving time from where we were to where you were arriving, quite honestly, all the pork skins in the world (this is a snack that goes great with Yoo-Hoo) couldn’t relieve our anxiety.

Do you know, young lady, what anxiety does? 

Well, besides making you drive fast, talk obnoxiously loud, and call everyone of your mobile phone contacts ( Aunt Winnie says "hollah!")-- it made us realize God was in control, laughing hysterically at us as we ran around like idiots. In the case of your Uncle Joe, he called every ten minutes non-stop for 19 and 2/3rds hours. First Grandma, then Me, Then Aunt Winz, then repeated the process. I thanked him profusely for the wakeup call at 0330 hours on Saturday). You don’t know this but every family has a crazy Uncle in it. Joe is yours.

The anxiety continued while we worried about how Momma and you were doing when the birthing baby process ("I don’t know nothing 'bout birthing no babies") ; but I was fortunate enough to observe all this firsthand while your brother and I held vigil (that means waiting with no good magazines to read) in the waiting room --the excitement, the worry, the stress, the laughter, and finally you arrived! Grandma sent a picture to Aunt Winnies phone, then a few minutes later burst through the doors proclaiming for the entire city of Beaufort and nearby Ladys Island to hear, "PRECIOUS!"... 

So, now you are here and have taken your place in the family--another "spitfire of a girl", if you will allow me to quote John Wayne (and you will)--and you now join the ranks of the other ladies in the family--I won't explain any more of this because I'm not qualified, but just know that Momma and the other ladies will ensure that number 1, you are Southern girl, and #2, you won't take any guff (there's another word to use but you will learn that later) off of any man. Speaking of Men, there are two of them you should be aware of--one is your Daddy, and the other one is the Pottamus Rex. You will know Daddy because he is the one strutting all around like a peacock. He is quite proud of you and with good reason. The Pottamus will be the one picking your pacifier up off the floor and poking it back in your mouth. He is also a force of nature but more on that later. If you need anything , they will be there in a nanosecond, and even faster if your Momma has anything to do with it. 

Perhaps you were named after a State, a University, a Song, or maybe even a crazy old man who thinks YOU, along with your Big Brother, are the cats pajamas. Regardless, thanks for showing up and putting a smile on our face that only a mortician can remove. We all took a vote and decided you're a keeper.

Hope you enjoy living, laughing, and loving as much as we do. Don’t worry about a thing, Me and Grandma got your back.

Love,
George

P.S. I apologize for Grandma in advance. She wasn’t like this when I married her. I know, I know. I'm rolling my eyes, too. But its HER world, and we just live in it.