Parenting is Like Training for the Olympics

“Hey daddy?”

“Yes son? I’m right here by the way. Right in front of you. In fact, besides the dog, I’m the only living creature who can communicate in English with you…right now…this very moment. So, there’s really no need to begin your ten-thousandth question with my name.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes Grayson.”

“You think I can have a friend over this afternoon?”

“Probably not buddy. Your mom and I have to do a couple things.”

“Can you do them while I have a friend over?”

“No Grayson. Seriously, we’re going to need you to have some down time and just read or play on your own so we can knock out this project.”

“Are you going to begin the project now? Can I have someone over before the project?”

“No, we’re getting ready to do the project.”

“How about after? If someone comes over during I’ll be out of your way and you can work on the project.”

“Grayson. Stop talking. Stop asking questions. The answer’s no!”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your father and I explained enough that we have plans and they don’t include you having a friend over!!”

I walk away to get water. Three steps into the kitchen I hear the boy say, “Hey daddy?”

And at that very moment in time you realize the patience, control, training and strength an Olympian must feel when they’re seconds from their race. Fuck yeah I just compared parenting to being an Olympian! Are you gonna look me in the eye-balls and tell me I’m wrong!?!

My son’s questions are becoming mind-numbingly painful. To the point to where I feel like I should set aside an hour a day to take his future teacher out for drinks after the school bell rings each day.

But you know how I get by?

I dream.

I dream of a day. A sunny, yet cool day.  

And I have a handshake agreement with the world that after this next conversation with my child goes down it will be erased from his memory.

And for once I have a green light to answer the boy’s questions how I see fit.

And it goes down like this:

The Boy: “Daddy?”

Me: “Say Daddy again I can assure you I won’t close the door or turn the fans and radio on the next time your mom and I have sex!!”

The Boy: “Can I have a play date?”

Me: “You're adopted and Santa's not real.”

The Boy: “Why are you so stressed?”

Me: “Because my dear boy, your questions are like a weed eater against my shin….relentlessly slicing me until I feel like walking into traffic!!”

The Boy: “Wanna go kick the soccer ball?”

Me: “Fuck yes!”

And then we go outside, kick the ball with great music playing in the background. And that’s when I start asking the questions…

“How was camp dude?”

“Are you excited for soccer season to start?”

“You know I love you right?”

And when he becomes a teenager, roles will reverse….and he…he will be the one blogging about his dad’s incessant painfully boring questions. And he’ll be wishing them to stop.

So until then, I’ll keep perspective and keep answering to my new beloved name, “Hey Daddy?”

I Answer 20 Questions About Myself

So, it’s been a while since I went to the amazing wives, dads, family, and friends that I enjoy following on Twitter to ask, “what do you want to know about me.”

In fact, I think it’s been over a year or so. Here’s some of the other times I’ve done it.

Yesterday I asked on Twitter “the first 20 questions asked I’ll answer truthfully” and then it rained questions.

So, without further adieu….here we go:

@flashyphotog asks:  If you were a drag queen, what would be your signature dance move?

Well first off I only do lawn dances. Butt!! (yes, I meant “butt”) if I were a drag queen how in the holy hell could I not do “The Butt” with touch of “Jessie’s Girl” and a sick rendition of “Single Ladies” sprinkled throughout!! Now throw me my damn leotards and step off!!

@jbenj219 Why do toasters have a setting on them that burns toast so bad that no one would ever use it? It’s simple. Toasters are the product of Al Qaeda. They’re not dumb. They know how much we enjoy toast - the crunchy, buttery, amazingly sexy feeling of toast so early in the morning. Jam, spread thickly across its porous surface only to meet the morning’s first cup of coffee in your hot-garbage morning breath mouth!! It’s ecstasy!!!

And Al Qaeda is here to fuck it all up with a burnt-ass toast setting cause they know our lazy asses will choose that to hurry all that awesomeness up!

@ellemenopee what do you sleep in? Great freakin’ question!! I used to enjoy the succulent feeling of fresh, static-free sheets against my manly-bits until I had KIDS! Now…I enjoy sleeping in the sexy, hott, old-school, crotch-blown-out running shorts I retired years ago. Seriously…I know you’re thinking about leaving your husband for me…you should really refrain.

@ladyquestion and @dakotapam why is daddy crying : Ok, well, the best answer to that can only be found thanks to the amazing @littleanimation who answered the question “Why Is Daddy Crying” with THIS and THIS.

@artisticdork why did you think you’d only get one? It’s true…I did tweet I was scared that I’d only get one response to my question of “ask me anything” to my twitter kids. And well…it all stems back to the time I was 6 years old and my brother and I were at McDonald’s for ice cream and they made one ice cream cone…..and then the machine broke. And…guess who got the cone!?! Yeah….my brother. Ever since then the glass in my life has been half empty.

@dadlogicblog do you lick 9-volt batteries? Wait! That’s not normal?! Oooohhhh…so that’s why my doctors and dentists have been looking at my body and then saying, “ummm…we’re gonna need you to just sit tight for juuuuust a bit, mmmkay? Thanks!!” and then running out of the room only to enter two minutes later with colleagues from other hospitals and medical magazines uttering words like, “I know, I’ve never seen some sick 9-volt addictive battery shit like that either!!”

@thesuniverse Salty snacks or sweet? Show your work in your answer. OK…this question has me both wanting some shelled peanuts and also the phone number to the nearest shrink in your immediate area that makes. Also, ummm…when they diagnose you…please share the drugs!!

@willgoldenstein why is blue? This…has…to be..the most…profound…question…EVER!!! Seriously. Every part of this sentence is just balls-on accurate. Why is blue? I’ll tell you why is blue….because the rapture is pissed from all the press it’s gotten and has decided to merge with the Mayan’s 2012 death-trap claim. Now the entire freakin’ sub-death-world is coming for our asses sometime next year. When? Who the hell knows? But it’s coming. So, why is blue? Better question…Why is a Big Death Dildo Emerging From Sky In A Big “I Must Crush You” Russian Voice Kill Everyone Fashion!!?!

@nordicwonder how would your perfect Father's day go? Sex, beer, running, beer, sex, sex, sex, beer, sleep, sex, beer, massage.

@_green_eyes_ ok..do you have any twitter crushes? Absolutely. Have you not been watching my incredible battle with @ieatmykizsnack over the past year? I don’t think I’ve fantasized about anyone more than her….just check out some of our battles here and judge for yourself!

@overmom will there be a for reals rapture? Please see my above answer to @willgoldenstein

@chickensfeed You are vacuuming, the floor is littered with barbie shoes and tiny lego pieces. What do you do? I call the “annoying co-worker” at work, tell her “the boss really needs you to test your skills at my house before she feels she can give you an accurate job skills assessment!!” and then prop-up a lawn chair next to a cooler of beer and watch the magic happen.

@dadgineer Why, if stranded on a deserted Island, would you bring a collection of Barbara Streisand photos? Ummm…I’m pretty sure, knowing my luck, that in the act of me becoming stranded on an island the sexy Barbara Streisand photos I had with me would get the face burned off them, leaving them to look like Donald Trump with Streisand’s body. And, therefore, I  would spend the rest of my life crying and masturbating to a picture of Donald Trump sporting a pair of large breasts.

@chickmae How did you meet your wife? (I love hear about peoples love stories) OK…I’m gonna cop-out on this one and just throw up a link to the story of how we met…enjoy lady!!!

@beingloopy Do you trim your nose and/or ear hair? Neither…I trim my….well…I said I wouldn’t lie!!!  Regardless, I’m very grateful that I have not had to deal with nose or ear hair yet. But when I do, believe me, I will embrace it, braid it, and throw some Bob Marley beads in it!

@ieatmykidzsnack ok stupid who would be at your fantasy dinner party? Pick 5 people past or present & why. Now fuck offffffffffffffffffffff John Bonham, greatest drummer ever and an amazing drinker; Bobcat Goldthwait, just cause; Casey, the kid who slammed that bully to the ground; Sinead O’Connor just to add some life to the party; Sarah Palin so we had something to throw our empty beer bottles at all night.

@onecheapmama As we get older, why do we actually choose vanilla ice cream when as kids we thought “how boring!”? Because it’s simple, quick, satisfying, sweet, pure and brings us back to the very beginnings of our childhood when the first taste of that succulent nectar from the gods of ice cream touched our tongues and made us say, “yes…YES! All will be good on this great spinning water planet called Earth.”

@toots_a_lot VanHalen or VanHagar? Neither. I know this will cause riots, but I just can’t stand either. Wasn’t my bag. I’m more of a Led Zeppelin, 60s, grunge, indie music kinda guy. Van Halen was kinda everything I didn’t want my music to be. Sorry!!!

@alynrosselini Out of all the tweets you've sent out, which one is your favorite and why? How in the holy hell can I pick one. I think my best so far was my first…and I have no freakin’ idea what that was.

@aprilsm4 Why the fuck am I so pissed off today? Probably for the same reason we’re all pissed off today!! Toilet paper just isn’t what is used to be. I mean, I can remember a time when it was wipe and BAM!! you’re done. Now…not so much. There’s residual. There’s “should I get 1-ply, double-ply” “should I get aloe or will that oil me up so I feel like a tired $2 hooker all day?”

It’s complicated. I get it!

So, that’s it. Those are my answer and I’m sticking to them. Thanks to all those who asked questions!



Getting The Kids To Stop Asking "Why?"

You’d think once your kids reach the age of six and eight that the “why daddy’s” would stop.

Yeah, not so much.

It’s gotten so bad that now when I answer the children’s question I try to be completely honest about everything in the answer I give, in the hopes they’ll be so brain-numb afterwards they’ll just walk away.

Example

Child: “Daddy, can we buy Kool-Aid?”

Me: “No, because it’s loaded with sugar which is not good for you and will make you hyper and completely out-of-control which will then get you into trouble with your brother, friends, dog, and us and will then cause mommy and daddy to yell at you and send you to your room with you crying while mommy and daddy stay downstairs and fight ultimately getting a divorce leaving you to have to live with mommy and see daddy on the weekend where I’m living in a one room shack crying, not showering, and surrounded by phone numbers of call girls which are girls that daddy has to pay money to have dinner with him. AND…it contains red dye 40 which will make your head explode from nasty chemicals people pumped into the sugary drink just so it’s the color red in the hopes we’ll drink more of it and provide the boss of the company with more money he can spend on bigger houses and more cars.”

And it worked.

Well…not at first.

At first they laughed and thought it was the most hilarious thing they’d ever heard. Half of what came rambling out of my mouth they couldn’t understand, but for some reason it was just hilarious to them.

Then…the light bulb went off. If I give their mother a long rambling answer they’ll see her immediately get disgusted and walk away.

They’ll learn by example!

So, I waited….and waited. And then…

Wife: “Honey, let’s go to Ikea and look around for a little bit. Maybe have lunch there with the kids.”

Me: “Schnookums, I don’t think that’s really a good idea. First of all the last time we went there both kids ended-up getting the puke bug from playing in the kid’s zone, while you got mad at me for publicly confessing in a very loud manner that you were the hottest MILF within eyesight, and after we made our huge purchase we spent an hour trying to find a clear spot where we could roll the cart to the car without having a 4-foot tall curb blocking us in and eventually we couldn’t so I had to go get the car and fight half the SUVs in Chicago for a space to back in and load the stuff we…..”

I quit at that point because she was long gone.

The kids? They took every bit of it into their tiny little developing brains and slowly digested it.

Then, the magic words came out as I overheard the daughter say to the boy, “I kinda don’t ever want to go to Ikea again.”

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve enjoyed a semi-blissful existence of having the first answer I give be the only answer I have to give.

And my responses are getting shorter and shorter. Usually by the time I’m taking my first breath so I can keep my ramble going, one of the kids just yell “fine daddy!!” And walk away to something else.

Now that, my dear people, is “winning.”

For now…



Shotgunned By 20 Questions From A 7-Year-Old

A few days ago the boy came down with a 102 fever.

Typically he man-handles the fever, throws it on the floor and tells it that “your mom’s so fat she wears a VCR as a beeper.”

But this time, the fever got the better of him and stuck around for a while.

So, the next day we call the doctor, set an appointment, and a couple hours later I’m on my way to get the boy looked over.

It was upon this journey that the he unleashed a fury questions that almost had me comatose, crying, and begging to just be put out of my misery.

Hell Hath No Fury Like 20 Questions Shotgunned From A 7-Year-Old

“What are they going to do to me daddy?”

“Take your temperature, listen to you breathe, listen to your heart, and probably…”

“Will I have to take my shirt off?”

“I don’t know buddy, probably.”

“And my pants?”

“I doubt it. You’re sick around your throat so I doubt they’ll…”

“I remember going to the doctor one time and I got down to my undies and then the doctor pulled them out and looked down at my pee-pee. And she was A WOMAN!!! Will I get a shot?”

“Yes, probably in the neck.”

“DADDY ARE YOU SERIOUS?!!!”

“No dude…I’m kidding. No, you probably won’t get a shot.”

“Will I ever get a shot again in my life?”

“Yes, we’ll be getting one as a family in the next few months before flu season.”

“REALLY? Will they do it in the arm or in the leg?”

“Probably in the leg, Grayson.”

“Will it bruise me?”

“I don’t know, but if you ask me another…”

“What causes bruising?”

“Well, the shot breaks the skin which injures it and causes it to bruise on some people. I think.”

“Do I have the flu right now?”

“No Grayson, I seriously doubt you have the flu. It’s not…”

“How do you know? You’re not a doctor?”

“Why did you ask me then?”

“Do you think mommy bruises?”

“I know she bruises dude. That’s why she’s always running away from me?”

“Because you bruise her? That’s mean daddy.”

“No…no…not like that. I meant…just, you know what, let’s listen to some music and just relax for a bit dude.”

“Will they have bathrooms there?”

“Seriously? You seriously want to know if they have…”

“What if I have to go boom boom while she’s taking my temperature?”

“Ok, now you’re just being ridiculous. Do you want me to stop and get you a diaper?”

“DADDY!!! NO!!! But…can we stop and make Macy wear one?”

“Want to play the quiet game with me?”

“Will my doctor be a woman?”

“Yes, all the doctors here are women.”

“Will they take my pants down?”

(I mumble) “No, but daddy might take his pants down if…”

“What daddy?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking out-loud.”

“About the doctor?”

“Yes Grayson…about the doctor…hey look…something shiny out the window!!!”

We arrived a short time later. This, my dear readers is one of many reasons why I sometimes fall asleep crying almost every night.

Q & A With "Why Is Daddy Crying?"

@MotherhoodFilm asks: What do you think of women who use the word "like" in a sentence repeatedly?

I was hoping you’d stop the question right after the word “woman.” Well, like, I totally think women who like say “like” all the time, or like totally not women at all….but girls. It like reminds me of last week when I like totally sat behind these two college girls who like OMG, drove me fucking nuts. And, I totally didn’t have my like, iPod. I was sooo, just….like OMG, OMG, OMG. I finally went and like slammed my head in a door for the rest of the train ride. Like…

@TrishB asks: How did you meet your wife, how did you know she was the one & how did you propose?

Jesus TrishB…get all up in my business why don’t you…. Seriously, we’re high school sweethearts. We met our junior year – she was the new girl in school – all the other girls wanted me dead or were tired of my stupid shit. She came walking into class wearing these white, tight jeans. Her ass mesmerized me and it was love at first…I knew she was the one. I proposed one day by walking in from work, flipping a ring at her and saying, “Let’s do this shit!!” Seriously – I spent months putting money down on a ring while we were in college. I finally put enough down to where the guy was willing to let me have it. I drove 6 hours to see her at her college, proposed, and she broke up with me. Aaahhh those were the days.

@ryanashleyscott asks: Do you enjoy playing cars w/ the kids? I gotta say, I really don't - but I'm thinking it's because I'm mom, not dad.

I enjoy playing cars with the boy for about 5 minutes. From that point on it’s a struggle. But I’m pretty much that way with everything….golf, sex, work, doing backflips, staring into my neighbor’s windows, streaking town hall meetings, painting random kids along the side of the road blue as they walk home from school….

@MamaBennie asks: How are you so fucking awesome?!?!?

By “so fucking awesome” I’m gonna take a stab that you really mean “such a fuck-stick.” For years people have pondered that question. My dad was the most vocal – “Jesus Christ…how are you even able to stand on two legs you fuck-stick?” My brother just beat me with sticks…and occasionally shot at my feet with a pellet gun. I hear my wife praying sometimes when she thinks I’m asleep – “dear lord…make this fuck-stick disappear. Honestly…I didn’t know what I was getting into and you’re all about forgiveness and stuff…so whatta say fella?!! Wanna give a girl her dream to start fresh?!”

Sorry I couldn’t answer it…..it’s just one of those unanswerable things….

@4uandme asks: Why is daddy cryin'?

Because fucking Twitter has a restriction on how many letters can be in your name. I wanted to have the “g” on the end, but nnnoooooo…can’t do that can we TWITTER?!!

@hotmom_of3 asks: What are you going to be for Halloween?

BJ Brittany from Twitter

@GratefulKim asks: U work, U cook, U help with the kids, UR funny, U love & honor your wife, U write...what is your advice for men?

Well GratefulKim…I’d like to thank you for helping me shoot to the top of the Dude Hit List. Why would you blow my cover like that woman?! Now all the husbands are gonna try and put a cap in my ass. My advice dudes….don’t do shit around the house. I don’t do jack around the house…I make the woman do it. That’s why I got married, so I could sit around and….hold on, what honey……no…no, I was just….yes dear..I mean ma’am…yes ma’am.

I gotta go.

@GratefulKim asks: What is the meaning of life?

Didn’t you just ask a question? You’re that kid in the backseat during carpool who can’t just chill…you gotta know EVERYTHING. Are we there yet? Why is the sky blue? Why does mommy need the mailman to go upstairs just to pay him for the mail?

The meaning of life is good beer, good laughs, good friends, and experiencing true love.

@GratefulKim asks: Boxers or briefs?

Jesus, you ARE that kid. You’re as bad as I am with the questions… Do people go running screaming from you sometimes?

I go commando GratefulKim. I let the boys breathe whenever I can. But during the winter – it’s boxer-briefs. Actually...I lied. I wear boxer-briefs all the time. I even blogged about it once. Except on Pants Optional Fridays…then…well…ya know.

@GratefulKim asks: What is the best surprise your wife could give you that doesn't involve sex or groping?

Holy shit GratefulKim…..all right. Let’s make a deal. I’ll keep answering your questions if you promise to buy me a beer for every question I answer? Deal lady?!

I’m not sure I understand how something can be called a “surprise” if it doesn’t involve sex or groping. I mean…sex and groping is….well when it happens it’s a huge surprise. I guess outside of that I’d have to say that I want an official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle…without her telling me I’ll shoot my eye out.

@grnladybug asks: Do you believe in extraterrestrial life out there and if so, are they cooler or crazier than we are.

I used to scoff at the thought of extraterrestrial life forms. Then…Sarah Palin came on the scene and since then, I’ve seriously changed my mind.

@Jabulani9 asks: OK, Daddy, why were you cuddling mummy like that last night? You don't cuddle me that way.

Seriously…are you on crack? Did your parents drop you as a kid? There’s no cuddling going on in the WhyIsDaddyCrying estate.

@barbaragaines asks: What are Santa eyedrops?

You mean the eyedrops my daughter says Santa’s gonna bring her for her pink eye? Click here to see.

@allconsoffun asks: What's the best advice/worst advice you parents ever gave you? Please support your answers in a 25 word minimum essay style format.

Best: “Hey boy…come here and listen close cause I’m only gonna say it once… Don’t ever piss on an electric fence.”

Support: Pulling your pecker out and using it where everyone can see is not smart. Keep that guy to yourself and whoever you’re with …and use it wisely. You’ll live longer and happier if you do.

Worst: “Hey boy….come here and listen close cause I’m only gonna say it once….drink the milk in the pink container…it’s strawberry milk.

Support: Even though the container was pink, it was just regular milk inside. Making personal decisions based on the exterior look of things is the most ignorant way to live your life. Read the carton, open it, sniff it, taste it, get to know it…then make your decision.

@crazysahm asks: Would you accept the Snuggie if it came with two options: 1) spots for beer cans and 2) BJ Britney.

Ab-so-fucking-lootly. But then afterwards I’d burn it.

@sassygael asks: Why aren't kids freaked by Yo Gabba Gabba like adults are?

I’m personally insulted by this question. I happen to watch Yo Gabba Gabba while stoned, at least 5 or 6 times a day. I have learned so much from that show that it’s ridiculous. “Freaked out?” About what? From learning awesome things like that you shouldn’t bite your friends? Or that there’s a party in your tummy? That freaks you out? You know what – you freak me out?

I’m sorry about that…that was mean… You wanna go smoke and watch Yo Gabba Gabba with me?

@drlori71 asks: What do you think is the most annoying kids show on TV?

Holy shit that’s easy. Caillou. Holy mother of all things that make me want to rip my ears off, shove them up my own ass, throw myself through a glass window, and run into oncoming traffic….I hate, hate, hate that show. His voice makes me…well…it makes me want to do everything I just said. I want nothing but misery for everyone of those characters on that show. I hope they all become crack addicts and featured on Intervention.