Why Burning ham is a good thing.

We have arrived. The Doobies handled the move incredibly well. So well, in fact, that I'm sure there will be hell to pay down the road. I just hope I get a little notice before the shit hits the fan.

As we drove to our new crib last Wednesday, I decided to make sure the Doobies were prepared for school. Kids their age were supposed to know their address and phone number. That always perplexed me. Why teach kids that information? So if a stranger ever asked, they'd know where to go to kidnap them and how to call me for ransom? Joke's on the kidnapper, of course. I would never pay up because after spending 10 minutes with my kids, I know Joe Kidnapper would deposit them, tied with a bow, back on my doorstep and then promptly rob some gas station of its beer and Advil.

I decided to start the "where do we live now" test with something easy. After two minutes, I knew neither kid was "Kindergarten Ready." Somebody summon the short bus.

"What city do we live in?"

"Detroit!" "Cleveland!" "Michigan!" "I don't know! Can I play my DS?"

Fuuuuuuuuuck.

"Does Birmingham ring a bell?" I asked.

I looked in the rear view mirror and saw two faces staring back at me with blank expressions. Finally, something clicked. Kaila screamed, "BURNING HAM! We live in BURNING HAM!"

"Burning HAM?" Madan said, "Ewwww...That's STINKY!"

Hopefully he's wrong. While we are going to miss the 'hood, our peeps and the haunts, change can be exciting. I'm sure the kids are going to freak out the first day of school and in the upcoming months, but getting launched from your comfort zone is a good thing. If I can start over as I push 40, the Doobies can, too. Moving tests your mettle. And the ability to adapt is a great skill to have.

Burning ham might not be such a bad idea after all.