So Dirt Poor – Mud Hut

Growing up in the 2010’s – meh Growing up in the 2000’s – blah Growing up in the 1990’s – nah Growing up in the 1980’s – Now let me tell you about growing up in the 80’s. Real men and women were born in the 80’s. We ushered in the dawn of the PC.

So Dirt Poor – H2O

At dinner one night: “Dad why is the water so warm? We can’t drink this. The water is too hot!” “Guys the water is fine. If it doesn’t burn going down it’s not hot. Let me tell you about the water I drank while growing up. We were so dirt poor that we had to

So Dirt Poor – Sushi

“Dad how come we never get sushi?” “Kids, let me tell you about the kind of sushi we got when I was a kid. We were so dirt poor the only sushi we got was the fish that came directly out of the kitchen faucet cause our water source was connected directly to the lake.”

So Dirt Poor – The Trophy

One evening my oldest daughter was playing a game on my wife’s phone when she suddenly exclaimed how she had just gotten a trophy for her success. Obviously I was proud of her for the trophy she had just earned, but in this day and age when you can earn a trophy for just starring

So Dirt Poor – The Chainsaw

“Dad in your story about combs, how come you can afford a chainsaw, but can’t afford combs to comb your hair?” “Children, let me tell you about our chainsaw growing up. We were so dirt poor our chainsaw was homemade. It consisted of a cardboard body, carefully crafted rocks attached to string for a chain,

So Dirt Poor – Carrots

This next entry in the “So Dirt Poor” series is the one that relays the origin of the name of the series. It was this story about carrots and dirt that launched the name into infinity. One evening at dinner, my daughter decided she didn’t like cooked carrots – nor anything else on the table

So Dirt Poor – The Comb

With three young daughters, keeping the hair combed to avoid tangles, rats nests, and utter destruction can be overwhelming and difficult.  On one particular occasion, after having not combed her hair for several days, if not weeks, my wife was working through a particularly troubling head of hair attached to our youngest daughter. The shrieking