Belated Birthday Post

THE 7-YEAR-OLD: Happy Birthday, Dad.
ME: Thanks, big guy.
(a few moments of silence)
THE SEVEN-YEAR-OLD: That’s a lot of hair in your armpit there.
ME: Thanks.
THE SEVEN-YEAR-OLD: That wasn’t really a compliment.


THE 13-YEAR-OLD: Happy Birthday, Dad.
ME: Thanks, Chipmunk.
THE 13-YEAR-OLD: I’m sorry I didn’t really get you a present.
ME: That’s okay.
THE 13-YEAR-OLD: Your kids are like your presents.
ME: You’re funny. You tell funny jokes.

Under the Table

I forget at what age exactly does going under the table at restaurants stop being a fun thing.

#everysingletimewiththisone

Belated Father's Day Post

The best kinds of cards are the homemade ones (sorry, Hallmark). My daughter made me this great pop-up card for Father's Day this year. I'm assuming she meant metaphorically because I'm clearly neither of those individuals. I guess she did preface it with "maybe." Even if I was, say, Batman, I wouldn’t be foolish enough to give away my secret identity in a Facebook post. Anyway, it was very sweet and made me feel all warm inside and only made me twitch a little when I saw the "your." Ironically, she probably stole the whole idea from an actual Hallmark card. :D

Wisdom Pearls of a 7-Year-Old

While I’m laying with with my 7-year-old at bedtime, he will often dispense tiny pearls of wisdom right before he turns over and falls asleep. I give you last night’s ...

7-YEAR-OLD: Dad?
ME: Yeah?
7-YEAR-OLD: Sometimes my farts are silent, but deadly.
ME: Yeah.

I think he was having an off-night.

My Dog's Original Name

Nearly five years ago we got our dog from a shelter and since then we've always wondered what his original name may have been. Though we'll probably never know for sure, whatever it was, I've always suspected that it had to be something that sounds like a refrigerator door opening because he always comes running when I open ours.

23 and My 7-Year-Old

Overheard today ...

THE 7-YEAR-OLD: I wanna do that 23 and Me thing.
WIFE: Oh yeah?
THE 7-YEAR-OLD: Yeah, so I can find out if I'm like 50% American or like 100% African American or something

Extra Hole

My son is at that perfect age where, to whomever is folding clothes (myself included), his t-shirts sometimes get confused with being my underwear and then there are some mornings where I'm just tired enough not to realize this until they're halfway on and only then notice that there's one extra hole.

Doggy Dance Lessons

My kids are funny. For some reason they think they can train our dog to dance ... and they always seem to do it when they're eating. I keep hearing them yelling at him to "Get down!" Personally I think they'd be more successful if they were more specific. They instead should try yelling, "Tango!" or "Cha-Cha!"

Socks

THE 12-YEAR-OLD: Dad! Can you go in my room and get me some socks?!

ME: Heck no, i won't get you socks ... your room is a disaster. I go in there and I'm liable to trip and fall on all the junk on your floor and then I'll probably break my arm or wrists or something and I won't be able to do my job and then they'll fire me and we won't be able to pay the mortgage on our house and we'll get kicked out and then we'll have to live in our car ... but then a lot of celebrities say that they were living in their car right before they were discovered and became rich and famous so what color socks did you want?

Bilingual

ME: So, you want to hear a story before bed tonight?
THE 7-YEAR-OLD: [fart]
ME: Excuse me?
THE 7-YEAR OLD: That's 'yes' in Fart Language. [giggles]

Only 7 years old and already bilingual. We're so proud.

More Irony

Irony is my 12-year-old daughter schooling me on table manners while we were out to eat tonight and then her burping loudly immediately after.

Newspapers

THE 7-YEAR-OLD: I need to get some newspapers to read.
ME: Newspapers?! Since when have you been into reading newspapers?
THE 7-YEAR-OLD: Wednesday.

Father's Day Gift Prep

Overheard this morning ...

WIFE: What are you doing?

12-YEAR-OLD: I’m making something for Dad for Father’s Day. I need a word that starts with “i”. What does ignorant mean?

Annie's Ice Cream

While eating out for dinner tonight the kids noticed (of course) an ice cream place nearby named "Annie's Ice Cream." After they repeatedly pleaded their case (i.e. whined about it throughout dinner) to go there for dessert, I finally retorted with "but the sign says it's Annie's ice cream ... don't you think she'd get upset if we eat her ice cream?" and my 12-year-old instantly rolled her eyes and shot back that I used that same lame joke when we were at Claire's at the mall recently. Apparently I need to work on some new material.

Carrots

Sometimes my brain wakes me up in the middle of the night with the most idiotic thoughts. For example, last night's thought was that carrots should be measured in "diamonds." Like, "Look at the size of that carrot ... it's huge, it must at least be a 24 diamond carrot. It'll easily win the blue ribbon at the State Fair this year." Actually, it probably should be spelled a little differently. Like "diamenz." It's nice to know this is the kind of thing my brain is working hard on while I'm sleeping at night and then deems worthy to wake me up for. Maybe that's why it's so hard for me to get out of bed every morning.

Kids These Days #1

Kids these days. It's like a guy can't accidentally start a spatula on fire in his own house without his 7-year-old telling the whole world about it.

Family Games

On random weekends I like to shave only half my face to see if my family notices and they like to pretend like they don't notice so I look like an escaped lunatic from a mental hospital to the rest of the world. It's a fun little family game we like to play.

The Conversation

Sat down on the couch next to my 7-year-old just as he was finishing up his apple juice drink box. When he reached the bottom and started making annoying gurgle noises through the straw with it, I was about to ask him to stop when my stomach decided to reply with it's own gurgle sounds. For the next several minutes, my son and I sat silently while his juice box and my stomach had a riveting, back-and-forth conversation about something we'll never know.

Parental Kryptonite

I have to confess ... sometimes I get selfish. I’m not proud of it, but sometimes I don’t feel like playing that millionth game of Sorry, or play that billionth game of catch in the backyard, or make that zillionth Lego spaceship. But every single time my kids ask me to spend a little of what we parents call “quality time” with them, in the few moments of silence between their request and my response, my stupid conscience gets up, strolls diligently over to the jukebox in my head, drops in a few coins, hits a couple buttons and on comes that damn “Cats in the Cradle” song that is my absolute parental kryptonite and I am rendered powerless to do anything but acquiesce to their solicitation. That song, man. It gets me every time. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. Don’t even get me started with when it comes on in real life. If I’m in mixed company I have to excuse myself in fear of breaking down into a blubbery mess by the end of it and risk being forced to turn in my “man card.” Fortunately, since it’s an old song, it doesn’t happen too often. Curse you, Harry Chapin and your cradles and cats and evil gut-wrenching parental guilt trip song!

Spheres

I overheard my 12-year-old playing with her younger brother and she asked him to help her pick up all the 'spheres' in the backyard. A little confused, I asked her what she meant. Apparently, somewhere along the way, she learned the slang associated with male genitalia and now feels awkward using the word 'balls.' They grow up so fast.

Sugary Cereal

Every once in a while we give into our kids’ endless pleas for sugary cereal. Recently, a box of Frosted Flakes made it into our home and, though we try not to do it often, I have to admit that this time it’s been worth it due to my 7-year-old’s hilarious inability to remember what they’re called every morning. So far he’s asked to have a bowl of Frozen Flecks and, the next morning, a bowl of Frosting Fleeks and, the morning after that, a bowl of Frosted Flags. I can’t wait to hear what tomorrow morning’s variation will be.

Vegetables

The day my son is tall enough to ride all the rides at Six Flags is the day my wife and I are going to have to come up with a new, equally convincing reason for him to want to eat his vegetables.

One Reason

One of the main reasons I had children is because I knew that someday there'd be this empty part of me that could only be filled by having someone shorter than me follow me around and point out the gray hairs on my head that they themselves had large part in helping to create.