Confessions of a Pig

The Original Truck Bib

Last year, my fiancé finally got around to telling me that I'm a pig.  Duh.  I wonder what took her so long.

Specifically, she was talking about how I eat in a recliner.  I drop lots of ick on my shirt when I do.  I like to eat in a recliner in front of the TV more often than I probably should.

Being a woman of action, she got busy online and found a pattern for a bib.  Then she told me to make some so that I wouldn't make such a mess.

Being a man of good sense and uncommon discretion, I said, "Yes, dear," and got to work.

No dummy, me.


I made a few from that pattern and began to use them.  The concept involved using old shirts for the bib.  I even made one for my eldest, John. 

He's a pig like his pop.

I made his out of an old flannel shirt because he looks a bit like Al from Home Improvement.

Al

John

See?   Like brothers, they are.

One of My First Bibs
(Ugly, right?)

As for me, the only way you'll get my bibs from me is to pry them from my cold, dead neck.  I love my bibs.

Sometimes my fiancé has flashes of brilliance.  It's one of the reasons I put up with her. 

Honestly, I have no idea why she puts up with me, though.  I feel a bit like Groucho Marx who once said, "I'd never join a club who'd have me as a member."  Probably the worst thing about her is her lack of judgment regarding me.  Perhaps I should reconsider the sanity of a woman who'd agree to marry me.

Mom's First Bib

But, I digress...

Then, I got to thinking about the whole bib concept.  The other place I eat a lot is in my truck.  If eating in a recliner is hard on a shirt, imagine how poorly I do while I'm driving.  So, I envisioned a better bib.

Ya know, it's the build a better mousetrap concept.  Pretty soon, the world will be beating a path to my door to get their bibs.

Or not.

The idea I had for my improved bib was to put a tray on the bottom of it.  Also, pockets are handy.  The pockets can hold ketchup, Taco Bell sauce, napkins, etc.  It's an ideal arrangement.

My other son, Caleb, who you met in the Falling Mountain post, just laughed at the whole bib thing.  He's too cool for such as that.  At the time, he was in his last year of college.  He still thought that looking cool was more important than being functional. 

Youngsters are stupid.

Papa Kight's New Bib



Uncle Billy and His New Bib
(He likes pelicans)

Me, I gave up on cool long ago.  Sometimes I think I never had it.  Most who know me would agree.  Either way, nowadays, I just don't give a damn.  If you think my bib looks square, it's your loss, hoss.  You do you, I'll do me.

Apropos of nothing, if you want to embarrass your kids, wait until their friends are around and say things like, "Cool, dude," or "groovy," or "that's the bomb" a lot.  They hate that.

The truck bib was a vast improvement on the original design.  That tray is killer (like, it's the bomb, dude).  Sometimes I even eat a small pizza while I'm driving; that was unthinkable before the bib (see photo at top of page).  Maybe not for you, but we've already established that I'm a pig.


Ms. Ruth

The funny thing about these bibs is that no one has a middle-of-the-road view of them.  They either love them or hate them.

Truth is, though, that the ones who love them are happier and better adjusted.  (Feel free to assess yourself.)

For instance, my friend, Ms. Ruth, loves her bib.  She likes to eat crabs.  She seems semi-well-adjusted, doesn't she?



William

Remember meeting William in my post William's Quilt?  That's when I first mentioned the bibs.  Even William-the-grouch loves his bib.  He uses it all the time when he's driving.  I guess he has the pig gene, too.


R2D2

And, maybe the well-adjusted criteria isn't 100% accurate.

In addition to being a pig like his dad, John is also a Star Wars geek, so I built a bib for him with R2D2 on it.







The Fiancé and Her Bib
(Isn't she pretty?)

Being reasonably well-adjusted, the fiancé wanted in on the action.  She wanted a bib to use while traveling.

So, I built her one out of denim.

It's not clearly shown in this photo, but the tray at the bottom is holding the chicken nuggets.  The back pockets from the jeans I used are holding the fries and napkins.  This is the genius of the whole thing.



Mom's New Bib

And, of course, Mom got a new bib, too.  It has her grandkids names on it.
 
As for Caleb-the-Cool, he's married now.

One day he called me and said, "Hey dad, Kaci (his new bride) was just saying how she wouldn't mind having a bib.  She thinks it would be nice to have while we travel."

"Ah, ha," I thought, "now that he's got the girl, he doesn't have to worry so much about being cool."

"So," I said, "Kaci would like a bib?  What if I made one for you, also?"

"Well," says he, "If I happened to have one, I might use it sometimes."

The little imp was using his sweet, innocent bride to ask for a bib.  Reprehensible.  It was almost clever, but not clever enough to fool the little grey cells of the father.

I guess he picked up a few things from watching me for his whole life.  People always say that it's a horrible moment when they realize that they're just like their mom or dad.  I say, though, that it's worse to see your child become you.  Why do they always seem to learn the worst things about us and emulate them?  Why couldn't they have learned the good things?  It's so unfair.

But, it at least means that marriage is teaching him that function trumps form.  Being cool isn't all that it's cracked up to be.

Caleb and Kaci on Honeymoon
Riding Horses in the Surf in Jamaica

Caleb-the-not-so-cool

On the other hand, he was cool enough to attract a perfectly lovely girl to agree to marry him.  Maybe he has a future as a con artist.

She's truly a sweetheart, but she has the same problem choosing men as does my fiancé.  So, maybe she's a few bricks short.  She's cute, though, and that counts for something, right?

Once upon a time, I told him that cool didn't matter much.  He didn't believe me.  Imagine that.

Of course, it takes time before dad gets smart.  Dads are idiots when a kid is aged 17-21, then we suddenly get brilliant.

I am now officially a genius, again.  It's good to be back in my rightful place.

TheCurmudgeon