You're supposed to drink water and I hate drinking water

There's a rule of thumb that says you're supposed to drink 157 glasses of water a day or something, and I drink one.

Seriously, I drink one glass of water a day and I do it in the morning when I'm taking my vitamins.

Sometimes I have water with dinner, too.

Beyond that, it's pretty much coffee or nothing when it comes to beverages for me.

I realize what a bad thing this is for my body, and that we need to keep ourselves hydrated. I just don't like water. I have to force myself to drink it.

When I trained for a marathon 14 years ago, I downed water by the gallon because I had to. Now that my running schedule is considerably more tame, I've abandoned the water.

Again, I know this isn't good judgment. There just isn't anything about the water-drinking experience that I enjoy.

Let's set aside the whole "there's no taste to it" thing. That's bad enough in itself. Water drinking makes me go to the bathroom a lot. A LOT.

"That's OK," you might say, "your body will adjust. Give it time."

I have given it time before, and my body never adjusts. I drink one glass of water and I'm headed to the bathroom three times in the next 30-45 minutes. I'm not kidding. It's like I drink a small quantity of water, and my body uses it to spontaneously manufacture more water. It's the only explanation.

Do you drink water? How much? How do you do it? My dad used to drink huge cupfuls of water all the time. It just baffles me how people manage this.

5 things that must be true before I can fall asleep

(1) I must start out on my stomach, with my right hand under the pillow propping my head up just a bit. I inevitably end up on my back by the next morning, but I always start on my stomach.

(2) The room must of course be dark, but it also needs to be cool. Almost cold. If I feel the slightest bit hot, I throw the covers off (whereas my wife, upholding married couple stereotypes, will be freezing while I'm sweating).

(3) The kitchen must be cleaned up, including the dishes. This one gets violated from time to time, but generally speaking, I don't like going to bed knowing the sink is full of dishes. Terry has no problem with it, and I know she'll clean up in the morning if she promises to. But I like waking up to a clean kitchen so much that I'll usually just do it myself before bedtime.

(4) I must be in shorts. Going back to point #2, I don't like feeling hot (or even warm) when I get into bed, and long pajama pants unfortunately do that to me. So unless it's 10 below outside and our room is a literal refrigerator, I'm in shorts. And a t-shirt.

(5) Everyone in the house NEEDS TO SHUT UP. This is Phase 1 in my Inevitable Transition to Cranky Old Man. My children, assuming my wife and I are fast asleep and cannot hear a thing, make incredible amounts of noise in the kitchen and living room late at night (and our bedroom door opens right out onto both). BE QUIET, DO YOU HEAR ME? I GET UP BEFORE 5 IN THE MORNING AND YOU DON'T. DIDN'T I TEACH YOU SOME CONSIDERATION? QUIET!!

Sorry about the mini-rant. I'm going to bed now.

10 ways I'm different now than I was 20 years ago

(1) I love coffee and wine. I used to hate coffee and wine. Especially wine. Now I regularly consume both. There is no logical explanation for this.

(2) I lost hair on top of my head. Most days I forget this is the case, because I don't regularly look at the top of my own head. Then I'll see a picture of myself from the back and realize, "Oh yeah. That."

(3) I'm more careful about using the brakes on my car so they last longer. A few $600+ brake jobs will do that to you.

(4) I no longer sincerely believe the Cleveland Browns or Cleveland Indians will win a championship during my lifetime. I used to hold on to this belief because I couldn't stand the alternative. Now I'm more honest with myself.

(5) I don't talk as fast. Or at least I don't think I do. I used to talk fast all the time. Maybe my brain is slowing down. Or maybe I'm just generally a lot calmer.

(6) I listen to a lot of classical music. Much like coffee and wine, I was never a fan until a few years ago. Who knows why?

(7) I not only don't need to have a lot of money, I don't WANT a lot of money. I've seen the problems money causes. No thank you. (Nor am I looking to be poor, either, mind you. Just comfortable. How about that?)

(8) Twenty years ago my worldview was limited to North America, as I had only visited various parts of the U.S. and Eastern Canada at that point (well, I guess I also spent a few hours in Mexico when I was 8). Since then I have visited Germany, France, the UK and China. It's amazing what spending time in foreign countries will do to your perspective.

(9) I don't wear glasses anymore. Nor do I wear contacts. God bless you, Guy Who Invented LASIK Surgery.

(10) The number of children in my house has exploded by 400%. This is more of a wonderful thing than I can even begin to describe to you.

One day there will be no more kids in our house, and I have a hard time being excited about that

This year we sent one kid off to live on a college campus (Chloe), while another moved back in after spending three years living on a college campus (Elissa).

I was so happy that Elissa came back because, honestly, I missed having her around. But now I miss having Chloe around, and it makes me realize that eventually there will be no trades. They'll just all leave the nest one by one, and nobody will return to take their place.

It's a mixed blessing, I guess. Some days you come home to a messy house full of chaos and noise and you think you can't wait until they all grow up and live somewhere else.

Other days you come home and they're all out with their friends or at school or something, and you realize how oppressively quiet it is. It doesn't seem right.

And so I can't decide whether I'm looking forward to the day they all leave, dreading that day, or whether it's a little bit of both.

For two decades, there have been kids in our house. If all goes according to plan, that will continue to be the case for another decade more.

Beyond that there's...well, I can't quite envision what's there. It will just be us. Just Terry and me. And while I love the thought of being with just her, I realize the cost will be having to readjust to a home where no one is asking me for a few dollars out of my wallet, or to borrow the car, or for me to sign a permission slip she misplaced and she needs for a field trip tomorrow.

And that just seems so lonely.

The college experience affords parents a foretaste of what's to come in their lives, and thus it gives you chunks of time to adjust to the inevitable.

It's just that, for all the hassles and frustrations that come with living with six other people, it's really all I know at this point. And so I guess what I'm afraid of is the unknown.

Still, the fact is, it's going to happen whether I'm ready for it or not. So I might as well be ready for it. And I might as well enjoy what I have now, knowing there will still be days when I just can't bring myself to clean up one more mess in the kitchen that one of my offspring created.

I also know that some day, I'll do anything for one more of those messes to clean up.

As we've said before, c'est la vie, my friends, c'est la vie.

Confessions of a former Android phone user and current iPhone sheep

A couple of months ago, I got my first-ever iPhone from my employer, ending a run of several years in which I had been an Android-only guy.

I made the switch to iPhone for two reasons, I guess:

(1) Because the rest of my family had iPhones
(2) Because I was curious

I am not anti-Android, nor am I anti-Apple. I'm pro-anything-that-will-make-my-life-easier. And there's no doubt that the iPhone has done that.

Don't get me wrong, I loved my Android phones, particularly the Galaxy S4 I had for a couple of years. It always served me well.

But...well, Android people, I have a confession to make:

I like the iPhone better.

I'm sorry! Really! Don't get mad at me. This is in no way a poor reflection on you or your technological choices. I'm just saying that for ME, the iPhone is better. I know you think this makes me yet another victim of Apple's relentless hype machine. But really, I just happen to like the functionality of the iPhone better.

I hope you don't hate me.

Here, though, is what makes me doubt myself: It's difficult for me to say specifically what about the iPhone I like better. It's as if I really don't like the iPhone more, but Apple has put some sort of drug into iPhone handsets that convinces me to change my preference even though I have no reason to do so.

It doesn't help that one of the things I've come to really like about the iPhone is an exceedingly lame one: Siri.

Yes, I think Galaxy phones have a Siri-like function, but it isn't nearly as good as Apple's Siri. It just isn't.

My Siri speaks in the voice of an English woman. And she calls me "Mr. Tennant" because I told her to call me Mr. Tennant. She's very obedient that way.

Then there's simply the fact that so many useful apps are either written exclusively for the iPhone, or at least the iPhone version is, for whatever reason, way better than the Android version. I don't know why this seems to be the case so often, but it does.

I still think Android phones are great, but I liken them to being left-handed: You can get by in this world being left-handed (and owning an Android phone), but it just seems like everything is set up to cater to the right-handers (i.e., the iPhone users).

So I'm sticking with my iPhone. Or at least I am as long as my employer will pay for it. But even then I think I've probably permanently made the switch.

If it makes you feel any better, Android devotees, there's a small part of me that hates myself for making the switch and liking it. So there's that. I'll ask Siri how I can make myself feel better.

Things I do and do not mind folding on those rare occasions when I do laundry

When I worked nights and Terry worked days, I used to do a fair amount of laundry. Which wasn't tough, considering there was just the two of us when we first got married.

Then, after kid #2 came along, Terry stayed home full time and took over the vast, vast majority of laundry duties. And that has been the way things have worked in our house since 1997 or so.

I will, on occasion, fold a couple of loads of laundry. It happens maybe once every 6 to 8 weeks.

The fact is, I am nowhere near as good at it as Terry is. And not just because she has more experience than me. She's just naturally better at it than I am.

As near as I can tell, she can neatly fold any garment ever produced.

I, on the other hand, can only consistently do a good job on a few items. Everything else tends to baffle me.

Thus, these two lists for your perusal:

THINGS I CAN FOLD WELL
- Socks
- Towels
- Bedsheets (but only the nice square ones that even a 5-year-old can handle)

THINGS I CANNOT FOLD WELL

- T-shirts

- Shorts

- Bras

- Fitted sheets

- Jackets/hoodies/robes/pullovers

- Random articles of women's clothing that I cannot precisely identify; I only know that, whatever they are, I do not fold them well

- Impossibly tiny scraps of fabric that pass for my daughters' underwear and that sometimes sneak into our laundry and make me uneasy to look at, let alone handle

What should we be telling our kids about the world of work?

My oldest child, Elissa, is becoming an adult, and she doesn't always like it.

Something with which you adults can identify, right? Grownup-hood has its privileges, but man, it's a lot harder than you imagined when you were little and wanted to be an adult.

One source of her frustration, I think, is trying to imagine how she's going to earn a living when she gets out of school (in less than eight months) and actually has to, you know, work. Not that she doesn't work now, but school work is different from "work work."

Elissa is majoring in marketing – a fine choice, by my reckoning, and one that allows her to combine her natural creativity with an expanding set of business skills.

Marketing is a white-collar profession that generally happens in an office setting (unless you're marketing a brothel or a meth lab or something, in which case it happens in something other than an office setting).

Office work happens to suit me. I generally like it. But not everybody does.

For some people, working in an office is akin to being water boarded. They just can't do it. Which is fine. There are plenty of other work environments from which to choose.

But if you enter a profession in which you're bound to spend some portion of your career in a cubicle, you're inevitably going to have days when you want to run screaming from the office. It happens to everyone. It's not natural to be cooped up under glaring white track lights for 10 hours a day.

Which leads us to the essential dichotomy facing every young person about to enter the world of work: On one hand, they're told that they should choose a profession they love, and that no one can live a satisfying life unless they're doing something about which they're really passionate. And on the other hand, there's the undeniable reality that work is not always pleasant.

It just isn't. Neither you nor I jump out of bed every single morning thinking, "YES, it's Wednesday! I get to go into work! Again!"

But hopefully the reverse isn't true, either. Ideally, you're not waking up in a state of depression every day dreading the fact that you have to go and toil at a job you absolutely hate. Maybe (very) occasionally, but certainly not regularly.

The reality is that the vast majority of us are shooting for something in the middle. You'll be working for a long, long time, and you have to look at it as a truly big picture. On balance, you should feel fairly satisfied with what you're doing with your career. And by "satisfied" I don't mean you're doing cartwheels out of sheer joy every day, but rather you're engaged, relatively happy and can go home in the evening feeling pretty good about yourself and what you accomplished.

That's not at all a bad way to approach your work life, but it does seem to pale in comparison to the unrealistic "love what you do" mandate, doesn't it? I happen to be someone who is blessed to do something they like. Not everyone is. But overall, you should aim to be somewhere on the upper half of the Work Attitude Scale.

Does that make sense? I hope it does, because I've never quite figured out how to describe this to my children in a way that's inspiring yet realistic. Maybe I'll just tell them to read this post and let me know if they have any questions.