Parking Nazi

On Valentine’s Day the wife and I laughed as we sat next to each other saying, “we should totally pack the kids up, go to a mainstream Mexican restaurant and try to dine with all the other throngs of Valentine’s Day celebrators.

Ten minutes later we were in the car, in the thick of heavy, hungry, Valentine’s-celebrating traffic trying desperately to find our spot in parking hell just so we could dine in over-priced deliciousness on a Hallmark Day.

We had become pawns in the game we laughed about just minutes ago.

But that’s beside the point.

The point in hand was that the entire time this nightmare unfolded before our eyes, our 8-year-old was back-seat-driving like it was his job.

Some of my favorite quotes from the night:

“Daddy!! Right there!!! It’s right there…two lines!! Park between them…jeeze!!!”

“Ok…Ok..OK OK Ok, back-up now!!! Awe daddy you blew it, come on!!!”

“Over there daddy I see a line! Park on the other side of it and let’s eat!!”

What you didn’t hear in-between those jarring phrases were things like:

“Dude…that’s a handicap parking space!”

“I can’t back-up, there are human-beings behind us!”

“There’s a sign in that awesome space that says ‘Residential Parking Only.’”

I was so used to the wife front-seat-driving, clutching things as I drove down the Interstate, yelling at me with phrases like “there are children in the car!!” and “oh, you should totally take a right here because there’s this cute little antique store we should visit.”

It was as if the wife had completed some satanic ritual when I wasn’t looking and dubbed the boy “Parking Nazi” so that she would have more time to play Angry Birds on her phone in the car.

And the boy owned it like it was his job.

Me: “Dude! You know I’ve been driving for almost two decades right?”

Son: “What’s a decade? Oh…and right there daddy!!! Park there…turn, turn, turn!!”

Me: “OK, first – there’s a fire hydrant there. Second, a decade is 10 years. Third, shouldn’t you be picking on your sister or flicking boogers at her or something?”

We never found a space to park that night. We ended up going home defeated, dejected, and hungry.

The boy didn’t learn his lesson. He helped me drive the entire way back home.

The only difference was now he was back-seat-driving while flicking boogers at his sister as the wife played Angry Birds while mumbling, “you told him it was OK to do it.”



For Valentine's Day I'm Giving the Wife...

It’s another awesome Hallmark Holiday that puts dudes on the hot-seat, leaving us cold, sweaty and paranoid as we procrastinate until the bitter end.

We frantically erase our Google search history so the wives don’t catch us ripping off kick-ass ideas. We go to Hallmark and convenient stores and hide behind shelves in the hopes we catch a glimpse of a guaranteed sex-gift idea being bought by another dude.

But this year…it’s different for me.

This year…I did my shopping early and I’ve knocked it out-of-the-park. I just know it.

Want to know what I’m getting her? Just keep it on the down-low.

Here it goes:

Pole Dance/Lap Dance Classes

I want my wife to feel sexy about her womanhood. What would make her feel more complete than to know how to wear next to nothing, trot into a room, and just own her man…nightly.

The Shake Weight

What?! She’s been complaining about her triceps. It’s thoughtful of me damn it!

A Cockblock Shock Collar

You simply place this loving, harmless device around your children’s neck as they nod peacefully off to sleep. On either-side of their doorway are two penny-sized attachments that send an invisible beam across.

When the restless child rises from its slumber to see what all the “commotion” is about, it sends a gentle reminder to the child that it should scutter-on back to its sleepy pad.

The Snazzy Napper

Well, it’s got a single hole…it’s shaped like a bib…and, well…it’s Snazzie!!! You put the rest together.

And to top it all off…when she’s done opening all her amazing gifts and ready to pounce me right then and there…I’m gonna drop the shock-and-awe on her by ripping my shirt off to reveal my chest hair shaved like this:

Happy Valentines Day!



The Wifey & I Have a Talk

Wifey: “I did this for an entire freakin’ summer you douche!”

Me: “I don’t know how in the hell you pulled this off. Were you on crack the whole time or what? I mean, I’m two minutes from jumping off a bridge.”

Wifey: “That’s why men could NEVER birth children.”

Me: “Fuck yeah we couldn’t!!! The world as we know it wouldn’t exist. Humans would have died out centuries ago. We wouldn’t be having this conversation cause I’d be a tiny worthless sperm cell sitting in front of the egg all: “screw that dude, you go ahead…I’m good. I’ll just take pictures of you being all bad-ass and put it on your Facebook page!”

Wifey: “Speaking of Facebook, you seriously need to be more careful about what you put on there. People there know who you are. It’s not Twitter jackass.”

Me: “Say that shit on Twitter…people will cut you woman.”

Wifey: “If Grayson ever calls me ‘woman’ cause he over-hears you saying that to me I swear you’ll need to wear a cup around me for a year.”

Me: “Look – you’re getting off the point. Three days!! Three day’s I’ve taken the kids sledding. And today I added a third child. And there was crying…anger…crying…ambulances…more crying. But it’s only been three days. How the hell did you do it for three months?”

Wifey: “Seriously – snow and ice and you want a medal?”

Me: “And when I got home I made snacks. The children loved the peanut buttery snacks. And TV was on. And all was good. Serenity rained down upon the land. And then Grayson came down stairs crying like a baby cause your freakin’ “mini-me” daughter socked him in the eye for trying to teach her how to say “the!” The simplest word on the planet – “the!!!” Well, next to “a.”

Wifey: “She hit him in the eye? What did you do?!”

Me: “I Googled ‘daughter hits brother in eye’ and a ton of videos came up. And they were so awesome. So then I Skyped my brother to show him some of these videos so I could see his reaction. It was hilarious. Actually – get the lap-top you HAVE to see this one...”

Wifey: “You seriously need medication you ADD bastard! What’s wrong with you?”

Me: “Oh, no…it’s cool. The kids made up and were making art projects by the time I got off Skype! In fact, they made you a Valentines card!”

Wifey: “For the record – when I leave in the morning for work…I leave scared for my children’s lives!”

Me: “You’re taking me all wrong. I just wanted to say that I appreciate everything you did as a stay-at-home-mom for a year. I’ve been doing it for not even two weeks and I hurt. I hurt everywhere. And I appreciate you.”

Wifey: “No!”

Me: “No what?”

Wifey: “No. No we cannot have sex tonight. I still have to write like 30 thank you notes from Christmas.”

Me: “Damn you and your ninja mind-tricks. How in the hell did you know?!”

Wifey: “You’re like the cat, dumb-ass. You only come around all happy and caring and stuff when you want to be fed. In your case, when you want some action. Back off dude!”

Me: “No, seriously. I appre-ci-ate you!!!”

Wifey: “It….ain’t….happ-en-ing!!!”

Me: “I took your children to see the new Alvin and the Chipmunks movie woman! Baby Jesus…that should get me sex for 6 weeks straight!”

Wifey: “’Your children?’ Really…you just dropped the ‘your’ word in talking about ‘our’ children? And also – idiot-boy - I was there, too! We shared the pain together!”

Me: “Holy shit you saw that movie too?! I swear to god…if I ever see anything as awful as that again…I told you I appreciate you right?”

Wife: “You seriously scare me. And, No!!!”

Me: “Fine! The appreciative train has left the station. You’re gonna have to work for it now!”

Wifey: “Damn. That sucks. And you said we weren’t doing Christmas gifts this year. Hey – can you toss me that pillow before you leave the room? That’d be great!”