Opportunities

Me, staring into the fridge: "I can't find the cheese."

She reaches past me and pulls out the cheese.

"You'd better hope this engineering gig pans out, because you'll never make it as a domestic goddess."

Just Trying

The Wife meets me in the driveway and immediately hands The Girl off to me.

Exasperated tone: "She wants you. I want her to want you."

Me, singing along: "Do you...need her to need me?"

But sometimes my cheerful demeanor isn't contagious.

Articulacy

"Da, die eew" = Father, I've soiled my current diaper. May I have another?

Messin' With the Boy

"Daddy, I actually have a lot of girlfriends."

"Oh you do, do you?"

"Yeah, there's..." and he proceeds to lay like seven or eight names on me. Way to go, boy. Time to knock you down a peg.

"So, you kissed any of them yet?"

Drawn-out silence.

"Daddy...I'm uhh...I'm not really into that kind of thing."

Note to Future Jason

Dear Jason,

Kindly dispose of 40-something pound pumpkins prior to November 12. They may crumble in your hands, drenching your shirt, pants, and shoes in sticky, foul smelling, black and orange chunks of rotten pumpkin barf.

You'll thank me.

Piercee-s, Or...How I Got My Feminine Ch'i

So, the family was getting some piercings, just casually. "What shall we do with our Sunday?" "Freak out the squares?" "Ok. I'll load up the kids."

The Wife was up first, laying on the table, the dude flexing arms as he jammed this three-inch, heavy gauge bar through her. For the record, it counts as piercings twelve AND thirteen according to her. Squeezing out a couple big-headed kiddos apparently makes it easier to man up to this sort of thing.

Then I was up. I made some nervous chit-chat while our overly-decorated guy laid out some implements of pain and a cotton swab. "It definitely has a Feminine Ch'i, and that's just awesome," he opined. "I would totally get one, but my anatomy isn't right."

Suuure.

Bed Time Progress

"Aren't you done brushing your teeth yet?"

"I've almost started."

If This Door's a-Knockin'

Don't come to my door unannounced. I may just answer in goldfish jammie bottoms, spare tire, mild hangover, and Feminine Ch'i* all just hanging out there. And then we'll both be embarrassed.

*Stay tuned.

18 Months

She has a bunch of words, but a good chunk of what she says amounts to...Fuck You.

Lovelace Doctors: Well, What *Do* You Do, Then?

At the LOVELACE WOMENS' HOSPITAL. Let me emphasise that. The Lovelace...WOMENS' HOSPITAL. The stage is set....

Lovelace Patient: "I have a question about breast-feeding, can I talk to an OB or a Lactation Consultant?"

Lovelace Professional: "Erm...we're not sure how to contact them."

Why Engineers are Smarter Than Lovelace Doctors

When probing someone's abdomen for tender spots, a patient reacts with "OWW."

An engineer would troubleshoot and find the cause.

A Lovelace doctor would say, "Oh, I'm sorry, I won't poke you there anymore," and leave the room.

True story (I have lots of these...it may be a new theme of mine....)

You Laugh, and Then You Feel Bad

Mr. Putter & Tabby are just awesome. In tonight's book, Mr. Putter's neighbor talks him into running a marathon. "It's a senior marathon," said Mrs. Teaberry. "Nothing but old people!"

"Chapter 4: Everybody passed Mr. Putter. Everybody except two people. Two people who tripped and fell and never got up."

I don't know why we laughed. But we did. Poor old people.

Well the Times Are Getting Hard for You, Little Girl

I was sitting on my guitar stool hammering out some Great White, when a certain little someone, carrying certain little purple shoes, comes in, drops them at the bottom of my stool, looks up at me, and says, "Out." It's not a suggestion, not a demand, just a 'we're doing this, so you might as well get started.'

I Tawt I Taw Titty Tatts

So, there's this 'water feature'...spurting...and a chick...getting spurted on.... You can't not notice these things.

Her shirt got wet. She fluttered the front to dry her chest. And there was an impressive amount of ink.

These Showers Don't Bring May Flowers

The Setting: 4th of July weekend barbeque.

The Players: Lots of adults, lots of kids.

The Props: Beef, Beer, Brats, and of course, fireworks of every sort.

The tagline: "Hey, Daddy, can I try a Golden Shower?"

"wha-? heeheehee Wh-What did you say?" (giggle)

The lettering, bold on the side of this firework, big capital letters: "THE GOLDEN SHOWER"

Everyone is calmly and ponderously checking out the crazy Jason. Crazy Jason is wiping beer from his nostrils and tears from his eyes. "Does no one else think this is hilarious?"

"What's wrong with that guy?" "I dunno. But keep him away from the guac. Ew."

Dumb Shit We Sing To The Kids At Bedtime

Jam-mies. Jam-mies.

And I hope you like jammies too.

We're jammies, we're jammies, we're jammies, we're jammies.

Hope you like jammies too.

Droppin' Some Knowledge

If you suspect you might be getting sick, give the bratwursts and lemonade a miss.  Proper.

Science!

Makin' bratwursts and sipping lemonade in the rain (yes, THOSE bratwursts and that lemonade).

"Uhh, Dad?  Emergency!"  (He's still in Khan mode, how adorable.)  "Why is the barbeque smoking like that?"

"Steam, not smoke.  From the rain."

"Ohh, right."

Bubbles!

"Hey, Mom, look.  When I turn this over, the bubbles always go to the top."

"I bet Dad can explain the science to you."

"Not science, Mom.  Bubbles."

Continuing the Story

Anyway, after watching said film, The Boy now has an awesome arsenal of newly-acquired vocabulary for playing with his toys.

"Fire.  Fire!  FIRE!"

"Damage report!"

"Evasive maneuver!  Starboard!"

"We need power in three minutes or we're all dead!"

"He's dead already!"

"From Hell's heart, I stab at thee."

"Khaaaan!"

Ok, I made those last two up.  But it would be cool.

Beginning the Story

"So, The Boy and I were watching Wrath of Khan yesterday --"

"Why?"

"It's....  You....  You can't ask 'Why Wrath of Khan?'  It's not a legitimate question.  'Why Generations?' sure.  'Why Wrath of Khan?' makes no sense."

Blank stare.

Brain Freeze

We were at an event. Charity. For the kids.

The Lobos cheerleaders were at the starting gate, waving the herd through. Just as I happened to be passing right in front of a tight little brunette thing, she happens to wiggle a bit and says to the blonde next to her -- no lie: "I'm single and lookin' to mingle."

My brain (possibly): "Awwwwsome. Say something dude."
Feet keep plodding along.
"Anything. Something cute. 'I'm mingly.' No, weird. 'I'm Chuck, wanna fu'--- no, crude. Anything."
Still movin' ahead.
"Asshole, I'm talking to you. Hello, moron!"
But nothing remotely suggestive rhymes with Jason.

The boy, walking behind me, gave her a high-five as he passed. STUD!

Baby Experimentations

Hmm....  Why is it that stripey things don't feel stripey?

The Neighbors, This Month

"Yeah, they came and got the new one, too."

The Neighbors, Last Month

"How do you like my new car?"

"Oh, it's nice.  Did you sell your other one?"

"No, they towed it away lastnight.  They were so loud, didn't they wake you up?  So, I had to go buy a new one today."

Ah.

It's Your Mom, Dude!

Sometimes the Boy just isn't as far out of earshot as you're hoping.

Her, leaning close to me: "I bought a little sexy something, if you want to see it later."

Him: "Can we see it now?"

Left on the Desktop

Me:  "What time does your flight leave in the morning?"

Her:  "7:30."

"Ugh, that means I have to wake up at, like, 5."

"Yeah."

"Well, that sucks.  It's like," (reading from the monitor) "of, pertaining to, involving, or near the anus."

"Huh?"

"What is this?"

"Ohhh...I was looking up something."

"Up what?"

Paying It Forward

"...."

"..ngrruh..?"

"I said, I can't believe that asshole."

"..huunh..?"

"The casino neighbor guy.  He was dragging his garbage bin across the gravel out to the curb at two freaking a.m.  I could hear him over the monitor from the baby's room."

"..eeh..?"

"It woke me up, and now I can't fall asleep."

"..ockaaysh.."

"Are you even listening to me?  Are you even awake?"

Man Wipes?

Us, on travel: "We changed the baby.  Where can we toss the used wipes?"

Them: "Aren't they flushable?  Like my man-wipes?"

How Cold Was It?

Her, driving: "Ugh, who did that?"

"Me, sorry."  I reach toward the window control.

"No!  No, I'd rather just smell it than be cold."

Stuck in the Upright, Locked Position

She stands up. For every occasion. "Okay, naptime." POP. "No, lay down for naptime." POP. "Dammit, stop that." POP. Argh.

I'd just leave her there, but sitting back down is a skill not yet mastered. "Umm...stuck. Legs getting tired. Hello? Losing my grip here. Anyone?"

Give Me a A-W-K-W-A-R-D!

"Anything you want to donate to Good Will before the end of the year?"
"Uhh, sure. Here's a shirt and pants."
"You are not getting rid of that sexy shirt."
"It was my Halloween costume."
"And it's going to be your 'cheerleader' costume on home movie night. Rawr. Go hang it up."

Eeek! Stop That!

"Aww.  Here's Daddy, stumbling in with my bottle for a 6am feeding.  How sweet.  I should do something for him, to make him feel appreciated.  I know!  I'll stroke his nipples lovingly while I suckle the bottle."

You! Alright? I Learned It by Watching You!

"Stop biting your nails, son."

Her Whole New Tack

"You know what I think is sexy?  When you put your DVD cases away."

You Realize You Aren't Saying Anything, Right?

"Ah-Fa-Ba-Na-Ga-Ta-Ma-Da"

Nod understandingly and provide encouraging feedback.  "You don't say.  Well, that is fascinating."

Pain in the Ass

WHUMP!

The wife and I look at each other.  What was that?

Scene:  The Boy's room.  Enter:  Me.  He's sprawled out at an odd angle atop the bow of his boatbed.  "What's up?"

He just lays there, all cool, like, Yeah, I'm just chillin' on this thing here.  "Mommy polished this wood today."

"Yes?"

"It's all slippery."

"Did you fall?"

The embarrasing secret is out.  He starts to cry.  "I hurt my butt."

Hello. May I tickle your nuts?

I was holding the baby against my chest.  We were in Baby Gap.  She was in a good mood.  The women were melting.  One busty young* thing with a sexy thick Castillian accent leans in close.  "Ohhh, hello, aren't you so happy!"

And then she swoops in.  Palm up, gently cupping.... Closer...closer....  It's not often that strange, sober girls just reach in like that.  I actually jumped back a bit, giggling.  What are you grabbin' for there, lady?

She really liked the little shoes.  Ollie'll be wearing them more often.

*"Was she really busty and young?"  "It's my blog...and yes."

Quote of the Day

"I am not making you bacon for a snack."

"Words, words, words."

Verbs, use at your own risk.

"Come go potty."

"What does that mean, Daddy?"

"I don't know."

A Subtle Change

We've reached a point where disappointment has shifted from intangible, "alas, the injustice of the world, boo hoo" to concrete, damnable blame: "You!  You did this!"

Now I See

We met the boy's kindergarten teacher last night.
"Oh, hi, it's so nice to meet you! The TA and I just love what you put in his lunches every day. We think it's hilarious."
"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, ha ha."

Later, discretely to the wife: "What do we put in his lunches every day?"
"Raw spinach and whole wheat cous cous. Why?"

It Makes Perfect Sense to Me

Me, smacking my teeth, "Ugh, I don't like this new kind of Cheez-Its you bought. They're all gooey in my teeth."
"Why don't you brush?"
"Because I don't want all this sticky crap in my toothbrush."

It Makes No Sense to Me

I walked in on her pumping something into her bath water.
Me, looking at the bottle, "Did you just put acne wash into the tub?"
"We're out of bubble bath."

Mmm, Baby

Me, scooching close lovingly on the sofa, "Ouch, what did you do to your hand?"
"Hmm? Oh. It must be from my nose." Pause. "What?"
"It would have been infinitely sexier had you said, 'I cut my finger.'"

This is SO Going in My Blog!

"Jason, can you help me find my sunglasses? I'm going crazy looking everywhere. I mean, like, everywhere, except the compost pile."

Creak. Plod plod plod. Hmm. Dig dig.

"Found 'em."

Right there, in the pile. I'm a hero. True story.

Indubitably

"But Daddy, some foods don't make poop."
"No. If it goes in, it has to go out."
"Indeed."
"In...deed?"

In My Mind

Target is morphing into Hazzard County so slowly that we aren't meant to notice. Have you listened to their walkie conversations lately?

"Available cashiers to the front, please."
"Operator, come back."
"Cooter, have you got your ears on?"
"Bo Peep, this is Lost Sheep. That dipstick Cletus is hot on our tail. We'll lose him at the Boar's Nest, there's an overturned hay cart we can jump. Yeee-haw."

*Halfway through this post, I thought maybe I should present my alternative 'CHiPs' theory. "7-Mary-4, do you copy?"

Girl-Inept, but The Wife Still Likes Me for Some Reason

The scene: A female, I don't know why, is chatting me up.
"So, did you do anything exciting this weekend?"
"Uh, no. Just read."
"Ooo, anything good?"

Option 1: The truth! But Polgara the Sorcereress is a sure-fire girl-conversation killer. Go for something else. She looks like a smart, philosophical type. Think!

"The Fountainhead."
"Oh. Isn't that, like, set in the future or something?" Pleasant conversation ends here.

Insert Pac-Man death sound effects.

At Least I've Still Got You

I was listening to the baby screech because, well, that's what was on. An intense, anguished squeal it was.

Me: "You know what it sounds like? You know when the Nazgul are decending on Minas Tirith and--"
Her: "No, I don't." Exit, kitchen right.

Well, anyway, it sounded like that.

Wrong!

When did we buy this lunch meat? Was it before vacation, or after we got back? Surely after.

Observing Jason

Her: "You're prettier in color."

Travel

Me, thinking ahead: "Should we pack some condoms?"
Her: "I packed four."

That's an awfully precise number. Not some. Not a few. Not five-ish. Not a handful. Like jellybeans, some things are just awkward when counted individually.