Thursday, March 29, 2012


I seem to recall promising to regale you all with the story of how son-in-law #2 had the moniker "TRex" hung on him. (Though my use of "regale" may be a bit of a stretch.)

Also, though TRex is married to my oldest daughter (the Nuke), and is the eldest of my two sons-in-law, TRex and the Nuke were actually married after Big Time and the WSO tied the knot. So he is chronologically son-in-law #2. (Enough with the genealogy already, get on with it!)

At some time in the dim and distant past (at my age that would be anytime over 6 months ago), the Nuke was describing her beau's hobbies and activities to us. As I recall, we were all gathered at Chez Big Time as the Nuke was preparing to move and we had flown in to assist her and bid adieu. At any rate, the Nuke was telling us how her man was very much into physical fitness and did Iron Man Triathlons, etc.

She then mentioned something about him having "small arms", of course, goofball that I am, I immediately thought of  Tyrannosaurus Rex. Not because of the animal's massive power and fearsome aspect, but because of the arms. Note the T-Rex arms in the photo, rather small in relation to the rest of the body. Really small.

Immediately, I leaped to my feet and with my elbows tucked into my body, leaving just the forearms thrust forward and with pseudo-T-Rex claws (hands) all a-dangle, I began to lumber around the room and make what I thought to be appropriate saurian-type noises. CINCHOUSE and the Nuke, thinking perhaps I was perhaps having some sort of brain seizure, just stared at me. On the other hand, the WSO (who shares my goofball sense of humor) immediately started laughing. The Nuke wanted to know, "Dad, what the hell are you doing?"

'Twas then that I explained that I was a T-Rex and I had really tiny arms, just like the Nuke's beloved apparently had. Of course, the Nuke immediately indicated that her beloved's arms were perfectly normal, just not as bulky as one might expect from an Iron Man sort of athlete.

Needless to say, the WSO and I spent the next fifteen minutes or so, lumbering about the room, with simulated T-Rex arms, while growling (in a menacing saurian kind of way) "Nuke, I love you." Growl, growl, roar, roar, etc. etc.

Well, the Nuke was furious, agitated, annoyed and aghast. All at the same time.

CINCHOUSE was just furious. One of her favorite ways of insulting our progeny is to tell them, "You're just like your father." (Which I, of course, do not find insulting, though the kids know exactly what she means by that.) The WSO was catching quite a bit of this paternal comparison heat, while CINCHOUSE was also exclaiming to the world at large that her husband, me that is, was a complete idiot.

Eventually the hub-bub died down, the saurian noises and lumbering ceased and we went back to "business as usual". With imprecations from CINCHOUSE that we were never, ever, to call the Nuke's husband T-Rex nor make saurian noises nor lumber about the place with shortened arms. EVER!

Later, the Nuke and TRex were returning to Chez Big Time from her old place with a car load of her stuff with TRex riding in the back, on top of the Nuke's many possessions. Now I had been posted at the security gate with a key card to let them into the apartment complex upon their arrival. When Nuke and TRex arrived, I hopped into the front seat and handed the Nuke the key card.

Unfortunately, her vehicle was positioned too far away for her to swipe the card. As she struggled trying to swipe it and as I indicated (in a loving, fatherly, kind of snide way) that perhaps she should pull closer to the box, son-in-law (#2), in a calm and controlled, very low-key kind of way, leaned forward into the front seat and said,

"Give me the key, maybe I can reach it with my T-Rex arms."

Hence that is why, for blogging purposes, I refer to son-in-law #2, husband of Nuke and father of Bear, as TRex.

But not T-Rex, for that would be insulting.

I so love that boy.


  1. This brings to mind one of my favorite observations on dinosaur morphology:


Just be polite... that's all I ask. (For Buck)
Can't be nice, go somewhere else...

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