Father of the Year Moment #365 – Dad Joke #1:

“Dad, where is mom?”
“She went away, she is thinking about getting tickets for a trip.”
“What? What trip?”
“To Bisnas.”
“What? Where?”
“Bisnas.”
“Is that a country?”
“Yes, next to Uzbeckistan. Duh.”
*Confusion*
“What city?”
“Nunya.”
*Confusion*

 

 

 

 

“DAD!”

Father of the Year Moment #493: Call the Question: The First Born, after picking her up from basketball camp…

“Dad, a friend wants me to go to the lake this weekend and I want to go.”

“Well, you do realize that you have State Track this weekend, right?”

Silence.

“Yeah. Not going.”

“What?! You qualified!”

“Yup. And I am not going.”

Silence.

“Why do you think I will agree to this?”

“I have done every activity you wanted (true), I have done well in sports and school (also true), and you said that I got to choose what I do this summer (shit) — I want to go to the lake!”

Okay, that last statement sounded like Heather when she stubbornly decides something, meaning I don’t really have a choice — kinda scary.

I knew this day was coming. I just didn’t know she would use her mother’s tone to make her point. Pray for me.

Father of the Year Moment #478: Parental Telepathy:

When you become a parent, you slowly start to gain superpowers. For example, I hear everything that my kids (and students, for that matter) say. Most of the time, I just choose to ignore it.

Right now, I just get the feeling that Scout is going to ask me something that I am going to say no to. So what do I do? Send her a text message that simply says “nope”. Pretty sure that I do this with 99% accuracy.

I know what you’re thinking-and yes, I will be writing a book.

A Little Big For Their Age

You may not know this, but my kids are just a little big for their size, and people are sure quick to notice it. I present…

A Conversation with My Second Born Daughter’s Soccer Coach at Her First Game of the Season”

Coach: Hello, I am Coach —-

Me: Hi, David

C: This is your daughter?

M: Yes.

C: Hello.

Daughter: (staring off, not paying attention) Hi.

M: She is on your team. This is the Warriors, right?

C: (puzzled) Yes. She is on the Warriors?

M: Yes, she is six.

*She starts warming up.

C: (Perplexed) She…is six?

M: Yes, why?

C: (Utter shock) She is a giant.

I don’t think he realized what he was saying. He literally said, “Hey, nice to meet you! By the way, your kid is a freak!” But, at this point, I noticed that Gigantor was, in fact, head and shoulders taller than everyone else.

This is no surprise to Heather and I as it seems that my children were destined for this “fate of freakishness” at birth. The first daughter took four agonizing (for Heather) days of labor; the second: three days of labor before they finally did an ultrasound and discovered that our daughter was going to be between 8 and 15 pounds! The finally opted for a Caesarian (thank God she was only nine-and-a-half pounds; Heather really dodged a bullet there. Oh come on, it is a joke). By the time the third and fourth children came along, the C – section was scheduled and Heather made sure that every doctor and  nurse in the building knew that when she requested meds, she got them — Immediately.

I don’t blame her.

Each of my children were born in the summer, which makes them the youngest in their class. When you look at their class pictures, you can not tell that they are up to a year younger than their peers. So, their size doesn’t really hit you until you go to a track meet or sports camp and the kids are divided by age.

Yup, there it is. They are at least a half-a-foot taller than everyone else.

Seriously. When the kids are all running it looks like Shriek chasing all of the little villiagers away.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love the fact that our family has won the genetic lottery. It makes for interesting sporting events. But, I also know that of all of my cousins, I am the shortest one (them 6’1″, 6’5″, 6’6″ – me: 5’10), so I know how quickly the tide can turn. But for now, i’ll take it.

*peacock feathers*

Father of the Year Moment #332: Damn the Fairy; Keep the Money!

The ongoing negotiations to pull out a loose tooth:

“You’re going to make it hurt!”

“No. I am not. Why would I do that? Do you think I would enjoy that?”

“Yes!”

(Damn. Touché)

“Well I won’t. Tie this string on it.”

(She does)

“It’s stuck!”

(Sucker)!

“Give me the string!”

She will not give the string. We are currently still in negotiations.

Stay tuned…

All By Myself…

While Heather was putting Our Son to bed, I put dinner away:

H: Where is that food that was on the stove? Did you put it away?

M: Yea.

H: Really, Honey? Wow – Nice honey! Good job.

M: (puzzled) ????

H: (serious) Is there a lid on the container?

I walk away in disgust as she checks the fridge.

H: Wow, honey. A lid too? That is so awesome.

I feel as though I used the potty chair for the first time.

A lesson in looking trashy at the local park:

1. Use the F-bomb: Because, hey, they have all heard it before.

2. Smoke: Gotta look cool/ get your fix at the park.

3. Blast music at full volume: I’ve often thought to myself, “I sure could go for a catchy tune right about now.”

4. Yell at your child across the park from a seated position: We all know that person.

5. Litter: Hey, they pay people to keep this place clean. “They” = the community, “pay” = tax dollars, and “this place” = public park.

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