Sometimes I feel like Rodney Dangerfield because I don’t get no respect - from my family. I’ll tell you what I mean.
      Both of my daughters-in-law are going to be blessing us with grandchildren later this year. One recent evening we were all gathered for an enjoyable dinner at our local Pizza Hut and of course the talk was immediately of babies and decorating themes for the baby rooms. I guess that when the subject of babies are discussed it’s just not a good time for the men to interject their thoughts and opinions.
      “What theme are you going to use when you decorate the babies room?” someone asks.
      Suddenly the table is abuzz with answers and ideas. Everyone has an opinion and ideas are thrown about like a loose oil cap in your engine compartment.
      “What about a Pooh theme?” says one.
      “Or clowns!” says another.
      “Butterflies!” “Sailboats!” “Nemo!” “Disney!”
      At this point I pipe up and say what I think would be a great theme for a babies room - “How about Volkswagens?”
      The resulting sudden silence was abrupt as all eyes turned toward me, then in unison rolled away and the cacophony of ideas and thoughts continue as though I had not spoken. Thank goodness I didn’t say Teletubbies!
      “I’m serious,” I say trying to recover from the snub,       “the new Herbie movie comes out this summer and...” but it is too late and the message is clear - Pop (that’s me) and his Volkswagens are not an appropriate subject for this conversation.
      No respect!
      When the subject of names for the babies comes up I have enough sense to keep my mouth shut but in my mind I run through a couple of possibilities - Herbie, Porsche, hmm, I wonder what the girls would do if I just started calling the baby by a nickname like ‘bugzy!’
      The talk at the table turns to colors for the baby rooms but before I can open my mouth someone I won’t name looks at me and says “No orange!”
      “What’s wrong with orange?” I ask, knowing full well that it represents my other great passion and both my daughter-in-laws are fans of other teams colors.
      “No.” is the simple answer I get along with an evil eye.
No respect!
      I suppose I’ll just have to wait until the babies get here to begin indoctrinating them about the joys and wonders of Volkswagens and Tennessee Volunteers with toys, clothing and riding in orange bugs!