The Book of Awesome (23 page)

So let’s sit back and smile a slow smile, nod a slow nod, and clap a slow clap. Let’s raise our drinks, then clink them, then drink them. Yes, let’s give cheers to sweatpants. Let’s say thank you, sweatpants, for everything you do, on behalf of the world’s hot, comfortable legs.

AWESOME!

Hey, there’s a lot to get done around here.

Oh what, you thought those magazines
on top of the toilet
were going to organize themselves? Sure, sure. And I suppose the shower curtain will magically get pulled out and straightened by the same
invisible bathroom butler
too, right?

No, but seriously though: Isn’t it all about
maximizing time
while you’re scraping away at your pearly yellows? I mean, you master the basic motions after the first few hundred practices, and then it’s like hey, hey, couple minutes of free time every night during the big brush. If this sounds like you, then congratulations: You may be a
Toothpaste Stroller
.

Toothpaste Strollers don’t worry because they know
their molars aren’t going anywhere
, so they check email, set the alarm clock, or put on pajama bottoms while brushing away.

Now, if you’re like me, whatever you do while brushing your teeth ends up taking much longer than normal.
But that’s part of the fun.
I mean, say you’re taking off your socks with one hand while brushing with the other—well, that’s like two minutes of awkward hopping and peeling while your brushing loses focus and maybe slips out of your mouth a few times. You end up grabbing the counter before you slip, a
half-peeled sock on your foot
and foamy streaks on your chin, and you just have to laugh.

Because you’ll get it eventually.

When you do, you’ll be an official member of the
Toothpaste Stroller Society
(TSS). Fellow members, you know what I’m talking about. You know that multitasking while brushing scratches a small part of your brain the right way. Now instead of daydreaming or examining your wrinkles in the mirror, you can feel satisfied that as you spit that bubbly foam puddle into the sink, the dog-eared pile of magazines are just as organized and ready for bed as you are.

AWESOME!

Backing out of parking spots is no fun.

Turning side to side, checking mirrors, reversing real slowly, you’re sizing up how far away your car is from another one. It’s an awkward three, four, five-point turn, as you
twist your spine up
, scrape your tires up, dent a fender up, and barely avoid nailing a grocery cart up.

It’s a risky, twisty game of
Lot Danger
.

So take no chances and go for that beautiful
Parking Lot Pull Through
, a classic parking move that lets you drive right in and drive right out. The trick to pulling it off is finding a double-empty parking spot, entering it, and then driving up into the second spot.

And it’s great because you get two
smirky, satisfied smiles
for the price of one. When you nail that PLPT, you’re loving it. When you return to your car and drive out, you’re loving it again. For those of you keeping track at home, that’s two awesomes for the price of one.

AWESOME!

AWESOME!

Butcher, baker, candlestick maker.

No matter what, if you’re working for The Man, there’s a chance you’re
getting paid every two weeks
. Maybe every other Thursday or every other Friday, maybe dollars dropped into bank accounts or fistfuls of sweaty change dropped into open palms.

All I know is if you’re on this schedule, you’re loving the couple months a year when
you score three paychecks instead of two
. Nobody knows why or how this happens, but let’s hold hands today and agree not to question it. On that third pay-day, raise your eyebrows, glance left very slowly, glance right very slowly, nod slightly, and carry about your business.

If you’re chiseling away at a mortgage, throwing in for car payments, or dropping coin on a fat phone bill, then you know the bliss that comes with having a tiny bit of extra cash above your monthly debts.

So go ahead: Supersize that combo, fill up with high-octane gasoline, or tuck it under your couch cushions for a rainy day.

AWESOME!

When I was a little kid my mom read to me before bed.

Actually, I suppose read
with
me would be more accurate. See, we had a deal. She read the left page and I struggled to slowly read the right, moving my finger over the words, letting her help me pronounce the big ones.

Over time we worked our way through many old collections from garage sales, bookstores, and libraries near our house. We learned about the lives of Mr. Men,
Curious George
, and The Berenstain Bears.

Sometimes we went to the bookstore on Saturday mornings for a treat.

I always loved walking on those creaky wooden floors, loitering at the big magazine rack, and chatting with the friendly staff covered in glasses, beards, and thick wool sweaters. I would sniff up that heady bookstore air full of
fresh paper
, cardboard boxes, binding glue, and lingering coffee fumes.

The smell of books reminds me of late nights cramming for biology exams between the library stacks at college. It reminds me of lying on my elbows on a
warm beach towel
by the ocean on summer vacation. It reminds me of the heavy set of encyclopedias in my living room when I was a kid, the ones I relied on to write last-minute reports on the praying mantis, Nigeria, or the
1972 Summer Olympics
.

The smell of books reminds me of learning to read and learning to explore the world.

I love walking quietly through bookstores and thinking of how many stories lie hidden in the pages right beside us. Entire lives have been poured into mapping the Earth and conducting experiments, crafting mysteries and teaching languages, showing us how to cook and garden, and sending us on faraway trips to faraway worlds.

The smell of books is the smell of us all coming together to document, entertain, and explain things for ourselves now and forever. It’s a big sniff of humanity, a big sniff of wisdom, and a great big sniff of

AWESOME!

Lineups are everywhere.

There are short ones, fast ones, straight ones, and curly ones. Can you stomach the
Top Five Killers
? If not, look away, look away:

So yeah, there are some terrible lines out there. Sometimes you beat them, sometimes they beat you, but one thing’s for sure: It’s great when you enter a classically long and winding line
just before
it gets long and winding.

Yes, when you’re first through the
maze of velvet ropes
, when you beat the lunch rush at the sandwich place, when you score the employee who just came off break at the DMV, well—doesn’t it feel like
you bucked the system
?

You can hardly believe your luck as you look back at the poor souls waiting. Smiling sadly, you shake your head because you know you’ll be there again one day.

But this time you won the game,
you’re riding high
, and you’re feeling so completely

AWESOME!

Stubble-free legs and cool, clean sheets combine to form a silky-smooth ride into
Dreamland
.

Or so I’ve heard.

AWESOME!

Put your hand up if you’ve ever driven your car up to a gas pump only to notice after you’ve parked that your gas cap is on the other side.

My brother, if your hand is up right now, you are not alone.

See, some cars I’ve driven have the ol’ gas hole on the starboard side and some on port. Due to my unfortunate affliction with
gasholenorememberititis
, I’m always parking the car the wrong way. Sure, I try desperately to notice the little gas-cap bulge in the side mirror when I pull up, craning my head wildly in both directions, and generally
pretty sure
I caught a quick glimpse of it as I pull in. But then I get out, notice I messed up, pound my fist on the trunk, and pull an awkward seven-point turn before anyone moves in to steal my spot.

It is a terrible thing.

But guess what? High tens around the room because there is hope for
People Like Us
. Shockingly, I have recently discovered
The Gas Arrow
! Yes, believe it, driving fans, because it truly exists.
The Gas Arrow is a tiny little arrow right beside the picture of the gas pump, which tells you which side your car’s gas hole is on!
I know, it’s crazy. And I guess whoever is responsible for marketing really dropped the ball on this one, because nobody I asked (n=3) has even noticed this before!

Yes, just look at that Gas Arrow, head nodding casually to the left or the right, a classy pal trying to tip you off real subtle like. It’s a flashlight in a storage closet or a lighthouse on a foggy pier: The great, noble Gas Arrow, telling you which way to park your stupid car.

So thanks for the big helper, Gas Arrow. Until car companies start putting gas holes on both sides or they invent a new wireless gas that lets you fill up through the radio, I think I can speak for all of humanity when I say that we love you and everything you stand for.

AWESOME!

Jumbo snowflakes falling thick and heavy on Christmas Eve are a special sight. They
blur the world
for a moment and lay a fresh blank canvas over everything. So if you’re sitting inside listening to carols on the radio, sneaking extra cookies from the kitchen, or wearing a bright red sweater and chatting with family, take a moment to look out the window and just
enjoy the scene
.

AWESOME!

Save your money.

Babies aren’t interested in talking dolls, board games, or baseball. They just want to play Peekaboo, Patty Cake,
Ripping Up Wrapping Paper
, Breaking Your Glasses, or Sticking Their Hands In Stuff.

And playing with babies is great fun.

You don’t need to hunt for batteries,
find a set of dice
, or put your shoes on. You just make faces, do baby-talk voices, and fly your hand around like an airplane. They laugh and giggle and suddenly you’re a world-class entertainer.