Basic training will be nothing

After my son joined the Army National Guard two weeks ago, I've suggested that the two of us go to the YMCA so he can get ready for basic training.

Since this will be his senior year in high school, he won't be leaving until June 30, 2007 -- that gives him a year to buff up.

With all the facilities available at the Y, he should be able to do 200 pushups, pump 300 pounds of iron, and run five miles with a full pack by the time we've spent three or four days at the Y each week.

I told him, I'd join him every day. What I didn't tell him, and what I don't want him to know, is that since I won't be going off to Basic Training in June, I have no intention of doing 200 pushups, pumping 300 pounds of iron or running five miles around the track with a full pack.

While he's doing that, I plan to spend my time swimming laps, sitting in the hot tub (for therapeutic reasons, of course), and enjoying a stint in the sauna.

I'll be there to back him up, of course. He knows I can play the part of a drill sergeant with the best of them.

"Drop and give me 20!" is about to become part of my regular vocabulary.

I'll use the same tone of voice when its time to do the dishes, mow the lawn, vacuum the living room, do the laundry and fix the meals.

By the time I'm done with him, he'll find Basic to be a cakewalk.

Brad was able to make it home from his Wyoming job this weekend. And it seems that once again, our house is under construction.

We've put a new window in the back wall of the house and replaced the patio door I broke with the weedeater last year. In order to satisfy our insurance company our last part of the project will be painting the back of the house to match the front of the house. Since we have a walkout basement, we have a total of three stories to paint.

Since I don't like heights, Jer has unknowingly volunteered to paint everything above six-and-a-half feet.

I've been trying to figure out how to get him all the way up to the peak of the house, and I think I've finally come up with a plan. I'm going to set up some kind of pulley system off the rafters in the attic and just swing him back and forth and up and down until the other 33 feet of the house is painted.

As far as I can see, there's only one problem with my brilliant idea. I still haven't perfected my drill sergeant voice.