Thursday, August 5, 2010


1) When my children say, “I want to help you.” it actually means, “Whatever you are doing will now take twice as long.”

2) Oprah is now against text messaging in cars and says we shouldn’t do it. Fair enough. But I think it is just as bad to have children in the back seat. I don’t know how many times I have reached back to pick up a blanket that has been dropped or to wipe a snotty nose or hand back a sippy cup full of water. Y’know why there isn’t a law against reaching back to grab the feet that are kicking the back of your seat? Because all the parents would cry, “You want us to neglect our kids!” And we would be wrong because Fire would live if he doesn’t have his action figure that is on the passenger seat. It’s just that I wouldn’t want to live if he didn’t have his action figure that is on the passenger seat.

3) Now that I am a parent I can understand the temptation of wanting to arrange a marriage. We have friends that are smart, good looking, athletic and musically talented. They have daughters we would guess could turn out similarly. Wouldn’t it be great if we could all be one big happy family? At least that would be my pitch to them. Because today I saw Beast at soccer practice picking his nose on the sideline and refusing to kick a ball. Simply put, I want to give him the best opportunity to marry over his head and not get stuck with some crack whore. Not that there is anything wrong with crack whores. I apologize to any of you if you are a crack whore or who would like to become a crack whore. I just think Thanksgiving could be a bit uncomfortable. Now I’m just thinking of myself right? Well fine. Go ahead and marry a crack whore Beast! I don’t care! It’s all about love right? Your god given American freedom to choose your partner can be shoved up your ass for all I care!

4) I just wanted to remind everyone that if you pass a church in the next couple of weeks and they are advertising VBS, it is not an STD recovery group. It stands for Vacation Bible School.

5) I complain about my kid’s misbehavior a lot but I have good times too. They are little mosquitoes sometimes and it is very cute. I will walk up the stairs to grab something and as I’m coming back down they are on their way up to see me. “Awwww, they want to be with me.” I say. But other times they are zombies who are following me with their, “Uuuuuugggggghhhhh” sounds with an appetite for destroying my brain with confusing questions. I’ll hide in my room but soon will see these grubby fingers underneath the door trying to pry themselves in. Their fingernails are long and dirty so I feel embarrassed about having not taken care of that problem before now. Suddenly the power goes out and the phone stops working. Daisy hasn’t come home like she said she would and I start to have a panic attack. Right when I’m about to jump out the window, I hear the door slam and little feet prancing down the stairs. I hear, “Why aren’t you down here with the children?”

I crack the door open, “I’m scared”.

“You are an adult and they are children who weigh no more than 40 lbs each.” I come slowly down the stairs to see their innocent grins that tell me, “Just wait until you are sleeping old man.” A shiver down my spine lets me know my soul has not yet been taken................but soon will be.

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