Pat Day Puns

Back a few decades, I was working in a program with a local college in the Middle East.

The name of the program for ExPats has the clever acronym of "IDEA" (hey, I said it was clever); which stands for "Inter-Departmental Educational Adjunct". It's interdepartmental because my particular specialty not only covers field geology but also paleontology and a bit of archeology thrown in for good measure. Everyone hopes to have a good IDEA...

ahem...

Well, we saddle up and head for the Dune Sea out in the west of the country, where the Precambrian, Cambrian, Silurian, Cretaceous, Pliocene, Pleistocene, and Holocene crop out and access is relatively easy and non-injurious.

Well, we caravan out, some 30 Land Cruisers, Nissan patrol, and the odd Mitsubishi Galloper strong. We all get our maps, compasses and split up into 5 or 6 special interest groups ("SIG's"); where each IDEA has his own GPS and LIDAR laser ranging apparatus. Reason being, that there are very few benchmarks out in the desert, and even those are constantly at the mercy of the shifting and ever-blowing sands.

Since we're split into groups and at any one time, ranging up to and including some 50 km2, when a real find is located, a device called the "DIME" (Digital-Interface Monitor Encoder) is attached and programmed into the GPS for location later; it is a digital sort of low-frequency transponder, developed from technology used by offshore drillers and jacket setters where benchmarks are even more transitory.

The way it works is rather simple. When something is to be marked for later retrieval, a series of wooden posts are pounded in a triangular manner around the find and the DIME is set, programmed with the GPS and attached to one or more of the posts.

That's the theory, at least.

Everything works well, especially all the hardened electronics and computer gizmos, but attaching the DIME to the stakes is the real problem. It can't be nailed, screwed or fastened with any sort of metal contrivance as that farkles the magnetic field and causes all sorts of goofy spurious signals. Zip ties don't last long in the heat and duct tape is right out. Many sites have been lost to the shifting sands this way.

Velcro doesn't work too well, as the sand fills the hooks of the receiving piece of velcro and soon renders it useless. String or fishing line work, but that's temporary (they melt). Glue or mastic are out as these are supposed to be temporary. Even plastic sleeves don't work due to the heat out

On our last day of a three day trip at Disneyland, my 7 year old revealed his inner father to my wife.

>wife: This backpack is good but could use more shoulder padding.

Son, with a shit eatin' grin, walks up and pats her on the shoulders.

I have never been so proud.

I hurt my knee very badly the other day, and I'm sitting on the couch when my father comes home and sees my injury. After I explained what happened, he nods and pats my head. "Let me know if you need anything."

One morning while sitting down for breakfast, my Dad looks up, points at my waist and exclaims, "What are those two things coming out of your butt?!" My 6 yr. old self wheels around like a dog chasing it's tail looking for said objects. nothing. I ask what they were and he says he's not sure, but that I will be fine. After school he get's home from work. Me: "Dad, do you those things coming out of my butt still?" Dad: "Yup" Repeat action and conversation from the morning again. And repeat again then next day, and the next ... 7 days in total I'm getting pissed my Dad see's them all the time but my Mom and older Sister don't. I surely don't see two things coming out of my butt. I'm starting to freak out and cry. Why can I not see these two things coming out of my butt, I'm sobbing, blubbering gibberish and spittle running down my chin to my shirt. I'm gasping for air and crying and just about to blow a gasket (I'm 6 mind you ...) my mom finally had enough, "Dammit Craig ... TELL HIM NOW!!" I get all calmed down and start getting excited, I'm going to find out! he sits me down and tells me this ... "I have told you all week that you had two things coming out of your butt?" That's why I'm losing my shit, Dad "Well, I was talking about your legs. You're legs come out of your butt and you have two of them." all the while looking me straight in the eyes, he starts a famously wonderful shit-grin. Mom loses it again, throws her arms up in utter frustration/disappointment/disbelief. Sister virtually pissing herself in laughter. My dad gets up, smiling that smile, he walks away with a pat on the head. "Pay better attention next time."

groan.

TLDR: I was 6, told I have 2 things coming out of my butt for a week. finally told that they where my legs. facepalm and groaner.

edit: - waiting for the right moment to pull this one on my 5 and 7 yr old ...