The Unthinkable is Happening…

I’m coming to the realization that I’m slowly turning into my Dad.

At Kohl’s with my wife, I was browsing around and actually considered buying a pair of Dockers pants because they looked comfortable and very practical (wrinkle-free!! When did that brilliance happen??) When we eat at a restaurant and my daughter, or any other family member, barely touches their food - I end up eating the rest. And don’t even ask me to tell a joke in a crowd.
It’s like an alien is taking over my body and I don’t know who I am half the time. The next thing you know I’ll be wearing sandals with socks while mowing the lawn, have a beer fridge in the garage, and running into walls.

It was even more apparent this past weekend as I was nagging my daughter about every weird thing she was doing trying to break her horrifying 5-year old bad hygiene habits.
In my defense, I’ve been extremely paranoid about her getting sick since most kids around us seem to have some sort of weird zombie-type virus: the 7-year old next-door sounds like a 50-year old chain smoking man when she usually sounds like a 40-year old chain smoking woman. A friend’s 16-month old got croup and now sounds like she’s a de-barked beagle. And nearly all of my daughter’s school friends look like they need to hook up some Sears wet-dry shop vacs to their noses because they’ve got a constant stream of snot running down their faces that ends dangerously close to their…(gasp) mouth.

Yes, MOUTH.

I sometimes think to myself, “Wow, kids are really gross. It’s a good thing I was never like that. Ever.”

I’m determined to keep my house free of infections this winter, so I made a list on things my daughter should not be doing and hung it on the refrigerator.
Because everybody knows if it’s hanging on the fridge, it must be really important.

RULES FOR 5-YEAR OLDS AND THEIR FRIENDS.

1. Don’t pick your nose.
2. Don’t pick your butt.
3. Don’t put your fingers in your mouth.
4. Don’t put whatever that is you picked up in your nose OR your mouth.
5. Don’t put your mouth on the handrail.
6. Don’t walk out of the bathroom without washing your hands.
7. Don’t wipe anything on Daddy’s stylish Wrinkle-Free® Dockers.

(Click to print)

Last Minute Mother’s Day Ideas!

I asked my daughter what she wanted do for my wife this year for Mother’s Day and she immediately answered with:

“Go shopping to buy me an Ariel dress! And maybe mommy can get one too.”

We did something a little different this year; she’s been practicing her “Pegasus unicorn running into a rainbow” art for a few weeks, maybe months, now so I had one of the better ones put on a shirt from this place (poloppo.com)

It's pretty awesome. (What’s even more awesome is a discount code “dads25”.)
When we got it in the mail my daughter instantly requested one for herself and her friends at school as they've starting a Pegasus Unicorn Team now - it's an alternative to the Dragon Team the boys at school have started.

We’ve also been contemplating what else my daughter wants to make for Mother's Day. Maybe some cool and funny Mother’s Day themed snack from a recipe off this site (link), or one of these interesting cards (link.) I’m sure we’ll come up with something once I suspiciously tell my wife to go get a pedicure or go on a trip to the nearby KFC on Saturday so we can make anything.

We'll see...

But for those looking for a last-minute idea on what to get your wife or mom on Sunday AND really impress her, there’s always my famous flower bunch toting Lionel Richie printable with complementary Lionel Richie paper craft sculpture:

"You're once, Twice, Three Times A Lady. Happy Mother's Day!"

Lionel Richie Paper craft toy

Because really, nothing says Happy Mother’s Day quite like “You’re Once, Twice, Three Times a Lady” from Lionel.

Explaining Taxes to Kids

Today, “tax day”, has to be my absolute least favorite day of the year.

I’ve loathed taxes since the late 80’s when I was around 16 years old. That’s the time when I got my first minimum wage paycheck after working nearly two weeks straight one summer.
I still remember that mysterious sealed blank white envelope. I ran home, smelled it, tore the thing open in excitement, held the magical piece of paper in the air in the direction of the sun to see the beautiful watermark (“Official Document”) only to be completely traumatized at how much the government and something called “FICA” took out. The check was less than $17.

That was the first day I truly swore. Not for minutes, but for days. Nothing cheered me up, not even my newly acquired Depeche Mode 101 CD.

Then being the good kid that I was, I listened to my great-grandmother (she lived through the great depression) and opened a savings account getting a paltry .002% interest rate. Honestly I think I had a better chance earning more by planting pennies in the ground and praying for rain on a leap year.
Given the unfortunate circumstances, I still somehow happened to earn something like $5 that year. And then months later I got something called a 1099 telling me that I was subject to taxes on the $5 bucks that I earned. That’s the year I started lending money to kids on the playground and charging a 30% interest with a pre-payment penalty "off-the-books." I didn’t ask for that life, taxes made me do it.

Yes, my contempt for taxes started early.

Please don’t try to tell me why taxes are good because you’ll be wrong. I’ve heard just about every reason why taxes are a respectable thing, “how are we going to pay for the sun?” “Taxes! That’s how!”
Honestly, at this point. I really don’t care. Ask me that when I’m all pale and begging, “I need sun! I need sun!” Maybe I’ll care then, but right now if I were on Facebook for real, I would be no fan of the IRS.

If I ever do get the opportunity to start my own country (the one with a planned KFC franchise on it) the first thing I would order, besides a double-down, is not to tax everything in the world. I would be a fair dictator and just tax the things I’m not fond of, like, Kevin Costner movies and Justin Bieber.

Tonight, while writing a check to pay even more taxes my daughter asked me, “Daddy? Why are you crying?” I replied, “Because if I don’t pay even more taxes, these really bad people called ‘the IRS’ will send me to Guantanamo Bay.”

You Can’t Have a Boyfriend in Preschool

I knew something was strange when I picked up my daughter from school and as she was giggling hysterically. When I smiled and asked what was so funny - thinking I would get an answer like some silly picture she drew or maybe some game she had been playing - I didn’t expect to hear this:

Daughter: “Guess who I’m thinking of?”

Who? Ariel? Mommy? Daddy? …Lionel Richie?

Daughter: “MARCUS” (followed by her giggles and those of 3 friends)

“Marcus?” And they were all looking at the new boy in the corner of the room playing with Thomas trains COMPLETELY unaware of the groupies not far away.

Daughter: “He can BREAKDANCE!”

Friend #1: “Yeah! And we all like him like the way Gabrielle likes Troy!” (group giggles)

Whatchu-talkin’bout?!

Does anybody know of a cave I can live in with my family for about 18 years or so? Preferably one with no TV and no other preschoolers with parents that allowed them to watch High School Musical, iCarly, Hannah Montana, The Hills and maybe Twilight.

I just can't get over how kids this young watch these shows. They're watching things they don't understand and shouldn't be exposed to for at least another 25-30 years.

On the drive home my daughter and I had a long conversation about boys and how they should be considered yucky at her age, and about giving me a heart-attack before I turn 40; About having friends, staying a kid, and about how she isn’t allowed to date until she’s married.
You know, typical conversation material one usually has with a 4-year old.

I think she understood. But to be sure, I made her a coloring page just to reiterate my message:

"You can't date until you're married" coloring page

Once she's colored it, I'm hanging it on her cubby at school just as a reminder.

A Message to Toddlers: Nose Picking Is Very Unpatriotic!

Can somebody please tell me why toddlers are so obsessed with picking their nose? Because I’ve been trying to figure it out since my daughter mysteriously figured out she can shove her fingers up there at the most undesirable times, like when I’m eating pea soup or guacamole.

And trust me, this is not good dining entertainment.

So far, I’ve come up with a few theories that might have caused this behavior:

1. She’s watched seniors do it. Which only proves my theory that seniors are bad influences on children!
2. Elmo probably sang about it. That’s what I get for trusting a puppet that speaks about himself in the third person.
3. Rap music. I’m pretty sure they glorify nosepickin’ along with pimpin’.

Now I’m not on a mission to stop this behavior.

The wife has her own methods to stop the digging – which is just to gently move her hand and telling her to stop. I’ve taken it a step further, reinforcing my parenting technique of giving an explanation of consequences along with the discipline.

What to tell a nose picking toddler:

1. If you keep picking your nose, you’ll eventually pick your brain out.
2. Stop picking your nose or nobody will be your friend, even Elmo.
3. Every time you pick your nose, a Fairy dies.
4. Snow White isn’t coming over to play; she doesn’t want your boogers all over her pretty dress.
5. Picking your nose produces harmful emissions that contribute to global warming and rising sea levels that will make millions of polar bears instantly homeless and eventually die. I don’t think you want start kindergarten with that kind of baggage.

And to help the cause, here’s a nose picking coloring page. Because everybody knows kids learn better when they color pictures of animals.

Please Stop Picking Your Nose. I Don’t Want To Die.

And Don’t Forget To Empty The Gas from Mommy’s Minivan.