Stuff Only I Care About IX

Weekly Random Thoughts On The Yankees

The Yankees went 4-2 this week and are now 12-10, one game behind Boston.

Fun stats: The Yankees are 9-0 in day games, 3-10 at night... The Yankees are 2-10 in games in which they score five or fewer runs, 10-0 when they score six or more... Randy Johnson is 3-0 at home with an ERA of 3.79. On the road, he is 1-2 with a 5.40 ERA.

Not-so-fun stats: Jaret Wright still sucks... Mariano Rivera is 0-2 with three saves and has an ERA of 4.32. He's given up ten hits, two walks, and four earns runs in eight and a third innings.

The Yankees start a two-game series at Fenway on Monday night. The game is on ESPN, so all my Red Sox friends are welcome to come over to my house and watch the Yankees win.

Arizona Cardinals: The Team To Beat In 2006 2007?

They already had two of the best receivers in the league in Anquan Boldin and Larry Fitzgerald. During the offseason, they added Edgerrin James to their roster. And with the tenth pick in the first round of today's NFL Draft, they added the 2004 Heisman Trophy Winner, USC QB Matt Leinart. They still have issues with their defense and their offensive line. But damn, they should be able to light up the scoreboard.

And Mr. Leinart, if you're reading this (and I know you are), you could have been the #1 draft pick last year, playing with the San Francisco 49ers and making millions more. Was it worth it to stay in college an extra year, take ballroom dancing, and score with any USC girl you wanted?

Never mind. I just answered my own question.

Stuff Only You Care About

Ok. This is the spot where every week I'll answer a question from a reader. So if you've got a question, drop me a line or leave a comment.

This week's question came from Mrs. Fortune: Do you guys want to have more kids?

Short Answer: Hell!!! No!!!

Long Answer: Actually, my wife wants another kid. Or two. Or ten.

Me? No how, no way.

If you have more than two children, that's great. You have my utmost admiration. I just don't believe I could handle another child (those of you who read this site on a regular basis know I have enough problems dealing with two children).

When people ask me this question, I reply, "I never want my kids to outnumber my arms" or "If Ella wants Child #3, she'll have to find Husband #2." Snort. Chuckle. Ha-ha-ha and all that jazz.

But look. The world is built for four. If you go to a restaurant, the booth seats four. If you go to a hotel room, the room sleeps four. Adding another person to the mix means a longer wait at the local Italian restaurant and someone sleeping on the floor during your Disneyland trip. Who wants that?

Plus, a third child would lead to one of my worst fears.

Sunday Morning Hangover

Here are some of the more interesting/entertaining posts I've come across this week:

• Dutch looks at children's books written by celebrities.
• Girl's Gone Child fondly remembers Sex Ed.
• Kristen forgets most people on the Internet can't take a joke.
• Lucinda entertains the thought of sharing her home with a dwarf hamster.
• Mir discusses addiction. And also learns a few parenting tricks from her children's Tamagotchis.
• Paige writes a love letter to her old guitar.
• The Sarcastic Journalist and her husband switch roles (make sure you read the comments).
  

Drinking And Driving And Fighting (But Not At The Same Time)

Take Me Away

According to Parent Hacks, yesterday was Take Your Daughters And Sons To Work Day. Like Asha, I am a stay-at-home parent and take my kids to work with me every day.

That's great and all, but what I could really use is a Leave Your Kids At Home While You Go Out And Do Something That Does Not Involve Kids Get Trashed Day. Who's with me?

I'm buying the first round.

More Junior Fight Club Stuff

I had six children, including KidA from the Fight Club Junior controversy, playing in my backyard yesterday afternoon. I was chatting with KidA's Mom. Some of the kids soon started arguing.

KidA's Mom: You may soon regret allowing everyone to come back here and play on your swing set.
Me: That's ok. If things ever get too out of hand, I'll just tear the whole thing down.
KidA's Mom: [nervous laughter]

When Teaching By Example Is Not Necessarily A Good Thing

Last night, the four of us were riding around when Zoey began throwing a ball in the backseat.

Ella: Zoey, don't throw the ball. You might make Daddy have a wreck.
Zoey: What's a wreck?
Ella: It's when two cars bump into each other.
Zoey: And then what happens?

If she can't ask "Why?" to one of our statements, she'll give us a health dose of "And then what happens?"

Me: The police come.
Zoey: And then what happens?
Me: If someone is hurt, the ambulance comes.
Zoey: And then what happens?
Me: The ambulance takes them to the hospital.
Zoey: And then what happens?
Me: The doctor makes them all better.
Zoey: And then what happens?
Me: They go home.
Zoey: And then what happens?
Me: They go to bed.

Every time we get into one of these back-and-forth conversations, the only way to stop the constant "And then what happens?" is to tell Zoey "and then they went to bed." Think of it is as a safe word for toddlers.

Today, Ella got into a wreck on the way to work. She's fine. But the car? Not so much. She was rear-ended by a kid on his way to high school.

But at least when Ella gets home tonight, we can take Zoey outside, show her the back of Ella's car, and proudly say, "Zoey, this is a wreck."

Stuff Only You Care About

Even though I think I freaked out a few people the last time I shared something about myself, I believe I'm going to go ahead and keep doing it. That said, if you have a question about my family or me, would like to see me elaborate on something I've written, would like parenting advice from an idiot, or just want to ask a silly question, drop me a line or leave a comment. As long as the answers are not too revealing, I hope to answer a few this weekend or next.

Related:
Fight Club Junior
Stuff Only I Care About VIII

The Old Lion's Teeth, Seems Like A Smile To Me

Those of you who have been reading my site for some time (why oh why oh why?) know of Zoey's concerns about her future. To help her out, I recalled those skills and personality tests administered by my high school guidance counselor (I believe my results recommended any trade with little to no interaction with others). After careful consideration, I have finally figured out what occupation my daughter is best suited for:

CARNIE!

Whatever happened to carnivals? I'm not talking county fairs and the like, with the rinky-dink rides and the games where you spend a dollar to win a prize worth five cents that is impossible to win because the peg you're supposed to throw the hoop onto is actually larger than the hoop. I'm talking about old-fashioned carnivals with freak shows and hucksters that would at least entertain you before taking your hard-earned money (and don't even mention Jim Rose; smashing one's testicles with a sledgehammer is not entertainment).

I truly believe my daughter can resurrect the carnival industry. She is very capable of performing any number of carnie duties.

Barker/Emcee For Various Acts

My daughter has a commanding personality. She also has the ability to draw a crowd. And once she has the crowd mesmerized, she can further entertain them with her jokes. Here are a few of her current faves:

Knock. Knock.
Who's there?
Boo.
Boo who?
Don't cry! Dry your eyes!

Knock. Knock.
Who's there?
Orange.
Orange who?
Orange apple! (This joke cracks her up. Personally, I don't get it. Anyone?)

What's brown and looks like Play-Doh?
Brown Play-Doh! (Get your minds out of the gutter! Where did you think this joke was headed? Zoey doesn't work blue.)

Clown

I don't really think I have to explain this one, do I?

Magician

Currently, her "trick" consists of holding a paper towel eighteen inches above an object, muttering the phrase "Abracadabra (or something closely resembling the phrase)," and then swooping down and picking up the object in the towel. Penn & Teller, she's not.

Fortune Teller

The kid can read my mind. How much of a stretch can fortune telling be?

Bearded Lady

Um, let's just say my daughter inherited hirsute genes from my wife's not-fully-evolved side of the family. The poor girl has a bit of fuzz on her upper lip (enough to make a fourteen-year-old boy jealous), hairy arms, and an ever-so-faint unibrow. Hopefully by the time she's old enough to care, Do It Yourself Laser Hair Removal Kits will be all the rage.

Acrobat

Despite the fact that she's as graceful as a fifty-five-year-old wounded elephant, Zoey believes she's a tightrope walker.

The Person Who Sticks His Head In The Lion's Mouth/Bear Wrestler

Zoey has no problem sticking her fingers in Zed's mouth, knowing full well he could chomp down on her digits at any given moment. I highly doubt she would be afraid of a lion or bear as long as neither would be dressed as Santa Claus or The Easter Bunny.

Gator Rassler

Do they have alligator wrestlers in carnivals? If not, they should. I saw someone wrestle an alligator in Florida when I was seven years old. It still ranks in the top ten moments of my life.

I know Zoey will never realize her full potential while under my tutelage, so I'll sell her to the gypsies the next time they show up in my cul-de-sac. They'll get her to the proper people who can provide her with the training she needs to become THE GREATEST CARNIE THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN!

Related:
I Asked My Mother, "What Will I Be?"
I Told My Daughter, "I Know What You'll Be."
Get Thee Behind Me, Spawn Of Satan (An Exercise In Haiku)
But Isn't Every Day A Circus At Her Preschool

Phoning It In: Random Snippets Of Tuesday Dialogue

While Sitting In The Recliner Together

Zoey: You've got wrinkles all over your face! Thanks, babe. Any other physical deformities you'd like to point out? And in case you're wondering, I don't have any wrinkles. I have no idea where this came from.
Me: Does Daddy look old?
Zoey: No. You look... NEW!

While Talking About What We'd Do If We Had Three Wishes

Backstory: every time Zoey finds a dandelion in the yard, she blows on it and makes a wish. Her usual wish is "I wish my Mommy would come home."

Me: I would make everyone happy.
Zoey: That already came true! Everybody's happy. I'm happy. Zed's happy! Are you happy, Daddy?
Me: Yes! What would you wish for? For Mommy to come home?
Zoey: No. I want something specialer this time.

While Pretending Zoey Was A Puppy

Me: Don't lick Daddy's chest!

While Ella Was Giving Zed His Bath

Zoey: Do you have any tattoos?
Me: No.
Zoey: Mommy has three tattoos!
Me: I think I've noticed them a time or two.
Zoey: When I get bigger can I get tattoos?
Me: Much bigger. And when Daddy's much deader.

While Eating Lunch

Zoey: I know a new song.
Me: Really? Did Miss Sarah teach it to you?
Zoey: Yes.
Me: Sing it for me, please.
Zoey: Hallelu, hallelu, hallelu, hallelujah! Crazy the Lord!

GHS: 1 (just for the mere thought of tattoos)

One Of The Many Reasons Why Other Parents Probably Hate Me

Zoey went to another birthday party this past weekend. Despite the fact that she only has a few neighborhood chums and eleven other students in her preschool class (two of which are twins), I believe this is the forty-second birthday party she's attended since the start of the year. Either some kids have been double dipping or she's on the Pump It Up Random Guest List Generator for birthday boys and girls that have no friends.

Zed and I went to Target to buy the birthday present. While I have plenty of experience with the desires of a three-year-old girl, I am not well versed in what tickles the fancy of a four-year-old boy. Luckily, a woman and her small son came strolling down our aisle.

Me: How old is your son?
Woman: Four.
Me: Perfect! Mind if I borrow him for a few moments?
Woman: What! What are you talking about?

I didn't understand why she was concerned. I had Zed with me! What did she think I was going to do?

That said, if the shoe was on the other foot, it would not have mattered if the person had enough kids to cast Eight Is Enough, Just The Ten Of Us, and The Brady Bunch. I would've probably run out of the store screaming.

I am a hypocrite.

Me: We're looking for a present for a four-year-old boy and I don't really know what they like.
Woman: Oh? Ok. Sure. Tell the man what you like, Sammy.

Sammy pointed to an Army tank. The parents probably have a problem with violent toys, I thought. Next!

Sammy pointed to a Spider-Man action figure. Too scary, I thought. Plus, it looked like Spidey's been taking 'roids. Next!

Sammy pointed to wrestling figures. This is the South, Sammy, but I doubt most kids your age are into wrestling. At least not yet, I thought.

I realized Sammy was pretty much useless, so I thanked him and his mother for their time and continued browsing alone. Then I saw this super-cool Hot Wheels eighteen-wheeler that could carry other cars. Sold! I put the truck in our shopping cart.

But then I thought, What if he doesn't have any cars? But then another voice said, What four-year-old boy doesn't have cars? And then a third voice said, Will the two of you please shut up?

After settling the argument inside my head, I found a gift pack of ten Hot Wheels cars. It wasn't priced, so I took it over to the scanner. $2.48! Score!

I put the car gift pack in my cart and went happily on my way. I then noticed Sammy and his mother.

I showed him the cars. "What do you think of these, Sammy?"

"Cool!" he said.

I showed him the truck. "What about this?"

He grabbed it out of my hands, studying it as his jaw dropped. "This is really cool!"

He handed me the truck and began screaming, "Mommy! I want one of those! I want one of those trucks!"

Oops.

I tried to deflect his mother's angry glares with an apology. As I was fleeing the toy section, I heard her say, "Maybe for your birthday, Sammy."

At least we'll know what to get Sammy when we receive the invitation to his birthday party.

Stuff Only I Care About VIII

Weekly Random Thoughts On The Yankees

The New York Yankees are 8-8 and two games behind Boston. Ugh.

Good News: The Yankees are 7-4 in their last eleven games.

Bad News: The Yankees have only won one series this season.

Worse News: The Yankees are 1-8 in games in which they've scored five runs or fewer.

Sunday Morning Hangover

Here are some of the more interesting/entertaining posts I've come across this week:

• Dutch and Wood discuss the birth of their relationship.
• Genuine shares his first time.
• Kristen (from Home On The Fringe) discovers why role-playing with her son always ventures to the dark side.
• Kristen (from Motherhood Uncensored) impersonates her favorite female bloggers.
• Lucinda and her husband are potty-trained by their daughter.
• MC GGC (Girl's Gone Child) lays down another awesome track. Word.
• Weirdgirl lists items parents should be able to include on their résumés.
  

More Fun With Google

Here are some recent search terms people have used to get to my site:

• M&M marriage on the rocks
  Um, dude? I think you want to search for Eminem marriage on the rocks. Unless you know something about the candy world I don't.
• i dont want to be buried
  Neither do I. I want to be stuffed and displayed in the family room.
• preschooler playing with his feces
  Stop him! Then look it up on Google.
• zoey girls gone wild
  Which one of you bastards performed this search just to mess with my head?
• fish head stew
  Nothing funny here, but I did learn this week that there are quite a few people looking for fish head stew. So if you have a recipe, please pass it along.
• tomboy daughter takes top off to play sports
  Why do I feel like I'll be telling stories like this in a few years?
• do you ever find yourself humming or singing parts of a TV commercial
  Not often. See, I have TiVo, the world's greatest invention, so I fast forward through most commercials.
• Kids give you gray hair
  And ulcers, migraines, and an ever-shrinking savings account.
• "gates of hell" sex story toy
  Is that where one of you dresses up as the Devil? I really want to know what this person was looking for.
  

And this from MSN:

• how to raise a neurotic child
  Follow my lead.
  

Stuff Only You Care About

Every so often in this space I plan to answer readers' questions like MetroDad does (only my answers will be neither interesting nor amusing). So if you have a question about my family or me, would like to see me elaborate on something I've written, would like parenting advice (snicker), or just want to ask a silly question, drop me a line. As long as it's not too revealing (remember, I'm extremely paranoid (and you'll see why after I answer this week's question)), I'll try to answer a few questions every week or so.

Unless there's a total lack of interest. Which very well may be the case as I am not very interesting.

Here's this week's question:
Several people wondered about the death threats I alluded to in my Cynical Dad 3.0 (A Love Letter To John & Kristen) entry.

Before I was a Cynical Dad, I was an Angry Young Man. I wrote a monthly web 'zine that parodied and satirized anyone and everyone. In the process, I irritated and/or confused many people, including Southern Baptists, English professors, and in one case, an Amnesty International representative.

But nothing I did caused as much harm as writing three simple words: No thank you.

I accepted submissions from readers on my old site. One day, I received a poem from a woman. It was bad. Rambling, drunk-at-open-mike-night bad. Stuff about space and Jesus and the Virgin Mary. I sent her back an email that read "No thank you."

Big mistake.

She started sending more and more poems, every one worse than the one before it. I must've received fifty or sixty poems from her (I even published some of them on my site (but none of the death threat ones) after things cooled down a bit). But I never responded to a single one.

Apparently, the only thing worse than rejecting a psychopath is ignoring a psychopath.

I soon became the subject matter (along with space, Jesus, and the Virgin Mary). Her poems turned nastier and nastier. Towards the end, she was talking about cutting out my eyeballs and my tongue. Silly stuff like that.

I laughed at the emails. But I was also single. Now, I have a wife and kids to worry about. That's why I don't actively try to piss off people anymore. And try not to reveal too much about myself.

You asked.

"J-E-N-N-Y Is A B-I-T-C-H."

That's what I told Ella as we all sat down for dinner.

"Chag! She's just a little girl!"

"So? Children can be jerks just as easily as adults."

My wife knows this kid is a snot-nosed punk. But she's not around this little girl as much as I am, so her hatred for this kid is not as strong as mine.

Jenny is in kindergarten and lives two houses down from us. When we first moved into the neighborhood a few years ago, Zoey and Jenny were friends. But then two sisters moved into the neighborhood.

And Zoey became the outcast.

Zoey was deemed "a baby" by all three girls (despite the fact that the younger sister was only four months older than Zoey). When Zoey approached the girls, they would run away, shrieking as if she were a monster. Or they would hide from her and make fun of her. I would tell Zoey, "That's ok, honey. We'll find some nice friends for you to play with. Let's go see if Elmo is home."

But three months ago, the sisters moved away. And guess who suddenly wants to be friends with Zoey again? Since Zoey's only three, she hasn't learned the fine art of holding a grudge.

But I have.

Zoey, Zed, and I were playing basketball in our front yard yesterday afternoon (actually, Zed was just chillin' in the stroller). Jenny saw us playing and came skipping over, acting like she was doing Zoey a favor by playing with her. Please.

Look, every time this kid comes over, she's constantly comparing herself to Zoey, telling Zoey how taller or older or smarter or stronger or prettier or [fill in the blank] she is than Zoey. And I'm sick of hearing it.

Jenny asked if she could come in our house. I told her, "No."

Jenny asked if she could go in our backyard. I told her, "No."

Jenny asked if I would give her a drink. I told her, "No."

Jenny asked if Zoey could come to her house. I told her, "No."

Finally, Zoey was showing Jenny the flowers she had picked for Ella. Jenny asked, "Can I have them?" Zoey replied, "No. They're for my Mommy." Jenny said, "Well, if you don't give me any flowers, I'm going home."

"You know what, Jenny? That's not too bad of an idea. Why don't you go home?" I told her. And off she went. Thank God.

When we went inside, Zoey came up to me and said, "Jenny's mean."

We're making progress!

Spell Check Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself

My wife is a poor speller. Therefore, Spell Check is her crutch and her best friend. But like so many things in life you trust and love, there comes a time when they eventually let you down, most often when you need them the most.

Oops. Don't know where that came from. Just Reason 4,173 why this site is called Cynical Dad and not Warm And Fuzzy Daddy.

Anyway, Spell Check let her down.

Wouldn't it be great if Spell Check knew what word you're trying to use and tell you if you're using the correct word, like their instead of they're (I actually found a few mistakes on my site the other night while I was checking out my new template on various pages (and did I mention my logo was designed by John & Kristen of Fringelements?))? Yes, in a perfect world, Spell Check would not only check the spelling, but idiot-proof your writing as well.

But this is not a perfect world. Just ask Ella.

See, her best friend from high school is getting remarried soon and Ella is throwing a bridal shower for her. Since Ella's friend already owns most of the things one normally gives young brides and grooms who are just starting out, the bride is asking for money instead (which Ella silently objects to, but one must go along with the bride's wishes). So Ella included the following on the shower invitations she printed and sent out last week:

The bride is registered at [name of store]
Monetary gifts are also appreciated

Only she put the following:

Monitory gifts are also appreciated

Spell Check did not catch the word monitory because it is spelled correctly. If you're like me and have no idea what the word monitory means, the definition is as follows: conveying an admonition or a warning. Now, if there is ever a time when gifts of warnings are appropriate, it's definitely at a bridal shower. But I don't think the bride will appreciate monitory gifts.

Luckily, no one has caught her error (at least no one has mentioned it to her). Yet.

Reader Participation Time

Have you ever done something like this? Placed a word in an important document that had the opposite meaning of your desired word? Please share. It'll make Ella feel better.

Cynical Dad 3.0 (A Love Letter To John & Kristen)

It's spring, so that must mean it's time for a site redesign.

See that groovy logo above? And the cool parking meter on the left? Those were designed by my two new best friends in the whole universe, John & Kristen from Fringelements (and also of Home On The Fringe). They offered to make me a new logo after I tweaked their template a bit so I decided, "Sure. Why not? After all, it's not like I have a real logo anyway. It's just a font."

So John asked me if I had any must-have thematic elements in mind. My lame response?

"I'd like it to be edgy, cool, and hip. But I have no idea what that means."

As you can see, they did!

They gave me several different logos to choose from. And they were all so amazing, I had trouble picking just one from the lot. So much trouble, in fact, that I couldn't let the parking meter from one of their logos go to waste, so I put it under the Background Info section and am planning on using it as a gravatar. Plus, I figure six months down the road when I'm a BlogRockStar, that meter would look cool as hell on a t-shirt.

I was kidding about that last part. But that parking meter would look very nice on a t-shirt, no?

Anyway, if you want to spruce up totally revamp your own site, you really should contact John & Kristen.

I now feel like I have a real site.

SORRY, IZZY

Izzy from IzzyMom tagged me with the 6 Weird Things About You meme. Since I did something like this back in February (only it was 10 weird things) and because I still haven't fully recovered from my vacation, I'm going to be lazy and simply reprint my answers from the first time:

• I named my daughter after one of my favorite bands.
• When I was in my mid 20s, I had a fear of the police. This fear kept me from driving on interstates for two years.
• Since I mentioned this in an email to one of my WebFriends last night, I'll share it with all of you: I once received twenty-six death threats in the span of nineteen days. All were poems. Not fun, especially when you're paranoid to begin with.
• I get my hair cut twice a year. I'm currently overdue.
• I can touch my nose with my goatee.
• The fact that I know I can touch my nose with my goatee is probably weird in and of itself.
• I went through a five-year period where I would dress up as a dead celebrity for Halloween. One year, I went as Kurt Cobain. I had a ratty cardigan sweater, thermal t-shirt, and a blonde wig that Ella and I streaked with fake blood. We also created a huge shotgun wound for the side of my head. Incidentally, Ella was Betty Lou from Sesame Street that year. This was long before we had kids.
• I have been mentioned in a book on screenwriting and a book on cults. How's that for diversity?
• When I find a new song I really like, I have a tendency to play it OVER and OVER and OVER and OVER until I start singing it in my sleep or Ella threatens to slash my throat with the CD, whichever comes first.
• I have a B-I-G fear of birds and needles. If a bird ever flew at me with a needle in its beak, I would probably have a heart attack and die on the spot.
  

Next time, I promise to do a better job.

Vacation: Meant To Be Spent Alone (Or At Least Without Kids)

MAIN LESSONS LEARNED

• 286 miles is just too long of a road trip for children under the age of five.
• 286 miles is ENTIRELY too long of a road trip for adults traveling with children under the age of five.
  
• I see now why people have minivans.
• I see now why people have DVD players in their minivans.
• I see now why people drink and drive.
  

FROM THE UNOFFICIAL MYRTLE BEACH, SC TOURIST GUIDE

It's like a white-trash Vegas with a beach, kind of like the southern version of Wildwood, NJ. I've been to Myrtle Beach almost every summer since I was fourteen and I spent nearly every summer until I was fourteen at Wildwood. Says a lot about me, no? There are 2.3 restaurants for every visitor. And 6.7 Wings/Myrtle Waves/Pacific (these are like Wal-Mart Surf Shops (if Wal-Mart ran surf shops)) for every visitor.

And Neon! Neon! Neon! everywhere.

Fun fact: the major destination for the now defunct Hooters Air was Myrtle Beach. Enough said.

THE HARBINGER

We were five miles outside Myrtle Beach (and a little over six hours into our journey to Myrtle Beach) when we passed a Wings store that had a digital thermometer that read 155°F.

Ella: God, I hope that thing's wrong.
Me: Seems about right to me. Don't you feel like you're in Hell?

NEW TRICKS FOR ZED

Zed is now a human! He finally mastered a straw while we were at the beach and ate (and most importantly, enjoyed) mashed potatoes, manicotti, grilled chicken, and chocolate milk (although not at the same meal).

But his greatest trick? Zed was in my arms while we were riding in the elevator with a large group of people. Zed reached out to the woman in front of us, grabbed her bikini string, and pulled it down over her shoulder!

Yeeeeeeeessssssssss!!!

Unfortunately, she was 50. There's a gazillion twenty-year old hardbodies running around for Spring Break and he picks their chaperone. But we're working on that.

And gentlemen? When I'm done training him, I will be renting him out at $45/hour.

A DAY IN THE LIFE (SATURDAY, TO BE EXACT)

8:00 AM
We decide to go out on the beach. We eat breakfast and play with the kids for a bit.

8:40 AM
Ella puts Zoey's bathing suit on and cakes sunscreen over her entire body. I play with Zed.

9:00 AM
Ella puts Zed's bathing suit on and cakes sunscreen over his entire body. I play with Zoey.

9:20 AM
We're ready to hit the beach!

9:21 AM
Zed starts crying, as it is time for his morning nap. Zoey and Ella go to the pool while I try to get Zed to take his nap.

9:45 AM
Zed is still awake and very irritable. So am I.

10:00 AM
Zed finally goes down. I watch SportsCenter.

10:45 AM
Zed awakens. Knowing he'll want his lunch in twenty to thirty minutes, I go ahead and feed him and change his diaper.

11:15 AM
Zed and I go down to the pool, ready to go swimming with the girls!

11:16 AM
Zoey is tired and hungry. She wants to go eat lunch.

11:17 AM
The four of us head back up to our room.

11:20 AM
Costume changes for everyone!

11:50 AM
We leave the hotel and head down to a nearby biker bar/hamburger joint. The wait for a table is thirty minutes.

11:55 AM
Zoey runs into one of her preschool chums! What are the odds of running into someone you know 286 miles from home? We decide to opt for a table to accommodate the seven of us. Our wait gets upped to forty-five minutes.

1:30 PM
We leave the restaurant. It is now time for afternoon naps for the kids.

3:00 PM
The kids awaken from their naps. We decide to go out on the beach.

3:05 PM
Ella puts Zoey's bathing suit on and cakes sunscreen over her entire body. I play with Zed.

3:25 PM
Ella puts Zed's bathing suit on and cakes sunscreen over his entire body. I play with Zoey.

3:45 PM
It's time to give Zed his snack. We feed him and change his diaper.

4:15 PM
After two and a half days, we finally step foot on the beach! Zed spends most of his time putting his face down in the water and coming up with a mouthful of sand (I think he wants to be a pelican when he grows up), which he then proceeds to eat. Zoey builds sand castles and collects seashells. I burn through seventeen rolls of film.

5:15 PM
Knowing it's Saturday night and if we want to eat before 11:30 PM, we decide to head back to the room.

5:20 PM
Costume changes for everyone!

6:20 PM
We drive to a pizza joint, wait for a table, and eat.

7:45 PM
We head to an amusement park for little kids. Zoey impresses me (but does not surprise me) by holding her hands up in the air the entire time we're on the roller coaster. Zoey runs into one of her gymnastics chums! What are the odds of running into someone you know 286 miles from home? Evidently, 1:1.

9:15 PM
Zed finally conks out in his stroller.

10:00 PM
We leave the amusement park and head back to the hotel.

CONCLUSION

Every little action was a major undertaking. But it was well worth it. The kids had permanent grins the whole time we were there (especially Friday, when we spent nearly the entire day at the pool). In fact, we had so much fun we'll be returning in July. For five days this time!

Recipe Of The Day: Fish Stew

Zoey and I were pretending to make stew today.

"Let's put some carrots in the stew, Big Boy." She pretends she's the mommy and I am her son. I am Big Boy and Zed is Baby Boy. My wife also calls me Big Boy, but for an entirely different reason.

"Let's add some peas."

"And some corn."

"And some fish heads." Be careful what you let your kids listen to, people.

"And some oranges."

"And some chocolate."

"And some bananas."

"And some celery."

"And some hot sauce! You like hot sauce, don't you, Big Boy?"

Sounds yummy, no? But then again, this is the same girl who has recently discovered that her boogers are a delicacy.

I want a daughter.

HOPEFULLY THE NEIGHBORS WEREN'T PICKING UP OUR BABY MONITOR SIGNAL

Because they would've heard me say the following statement: "The head is in the front seat so we won't forget it."

Zoey is getting a Cinderella Barbie Styling Doll Head for Easter.

BE BACK SOON

We are headed to the beach for our first vacation as a foursome. Pray for us.

I'll try to post something Sunday evening when I return. In the meantime, why not take a stroll down memory lane and read some of my early entries on Cynical Dad (back when the only way I received any traffic was through people hitting Next Blog in the Blogger toolbar)? Here are a few of my favorites:

• (Dis)Orientation
• One Man's Trash... Is Still Trash
• Zoey's New Hairdon't
  

On second thought, why don't you just check out one of the sites in my right toolbar instead? They're all funnier and more intelligent than mine.

I Told My Daughter, "I Know What You'll Be."

Last week, Ella bought Zoey one of these Woodkins dolls at a yard sale. You lift up a board, place cloth over the cutout of the girl, and then pull the board back over the girl. The doll is then dressed.

My daughter has been playing with it nonstop ever since. And since we have enough fabric in our house to clothe all the preschoolers in our state, she'll never run out of outfits. It even went to Show And Tell two days in a row last week, despite my pleas for her to pick something different on the second day (I figured her teachers would think I had forgotten to send her something new; I worry way too much about what her teachers think or say about us).

Today, Zoey was whining once again about not knowing what she wanted to be when she grew up. I looked at the doll and said, "Maybe you can design clothing when you grow up! You can make clothes!"

"That would be great!" she said. "Thank you, Daddy! I'm going to make clothes when I get bigger! I'm so happy!"

She ran over and kissed me and hugged me. I was Hero Dad for a change. She then returned to her doll and began working on the Summer 2006 fashion line.

Tonight, Ella asked Zoey what she did today. Her reply?

"Daddy says I HAVE to make clothes when I grow up!"

The hell?

From hero to goat in four short hours. Life is good.

To be continued...

GHS: 2

Related:
I Asked My Mother, "What Will I Be?"

Stuff Only I Care About VII

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SOMEONE PLEASE JAB A PENCIL IN MY EARS

I'm not sure if this is a regional television commercial, but Ford has an ad that features the song Beep! Beep! by the band 13 Stories. I have also heard the ad on the radio and several radio stations have begun playing the song.

The song is ultra annoying. It is also disgustingly catchy. This song has worked its way into my tiny little brain and I find myself absentmindedly singing it.

And enjoying it.

And hating it.

And enjoying it.

Anyway, if you dare listen to the song, you can do so on the band's MySpace page. Just don't hold me responsible if you find yourself humming it tomorrow.

Punk Chag has officially moved out of my brain.

WEEKLY RANDOM THOUGHTS ON THE YANKEES

The New York Yankees went 1-4 this past week to start the season. Yikes!

One week in the books and the Yankees are already three games behind Boston.

After putting up fifteen runs in their season-opening victory against Oakland, they have only amassed ten runs in their past four games, all of which were losses. Just like last year, if they're not scoring a lot of runs, they're not winning.

Can we officially put an end to the Jaret Wright experiment?

Looks like the Randy Johnson and Jorge Posada honeymoon is officially over as Kelly Stinnett was behind the plate for Johnson's Saturday night loss.

Have the Red Sox named Jonathan Papelbon their closer yet? The kid's made three appearances, earned two saves, and has struck out four over three hitless innings. And, oh yeah, he has a 0.00 ERA.

Speaking of closers, Mariano Rivera has yet to pitch for the Yankees this year.

SUNDAY MORNING HANGOVER

Here are some of the more interesting/entertaining posts I've come across this week:

• Alice has a not-so-secret admirer: her son.
• Cookie is pregnant. Congrats, girl!
• Freezio dines on trash-flavored ice cream while in jail.
• Kristen (from Home on the Fringe) lives with a poltergeist.
• Kristen (from Motherhood Uncensored) posts several rejected Parent Hacks.
• Lucinda redefines the term lockdown at her stepdaughter's school.
• Mary P. delivers the simplest bit of parenting advice ever: be the grown-up. I'm getting this tattooed on my arm.
  
• Mrs. Fortune discovers a new way to screw with the Google Gods: send weird emails via Gmail to see what nonsense AdSense appears.
  

THE OBLIGATORY SWEET JUNIPER! PORTION

I know. Every week in this space I seem to mention Sweet Juniper!. That's because it's one of my favorite sites. Dutch and Wood are extremely funny writers. They're also extremely caring and thoughtful people. Or at least they seem that way. This is the Internet. They could very well be two frat boys in Milwaukee, pulling the wool over all our eyes.

Anyway.

Dutch posted twenty songs that are suitable for children but aren't necessarily made for children. Or in his words, "real music that your kids should enjoy." Give it a listen and throw out those Wiggles CDs!

Of Social Security, School Pictures, Self-Esteem, And Swingers

OH, THE PLACES YOU SHOULDN'T GO!

There are plenty of places that are inappropriate for children (prison, the proctologist, Chuck E. Cheese's, etc.). Today, I discovered a new place to add to that ever-growing list: the Social Security Administration office.

In my state, when you give birth you can select an option on your hospital records to automatically have the state assign your baby a Social Security Number. Then, after thirteen months of not receiving anything from the state, you have to go to the Social Security Administration office to reapply. We went through the same hoops with Zoey. Today was Zed's turn.

So the three of us trekked on down there this afternoon (in hindsight, this should have been a Zed & Daddy outing while Zoey was in preschool). You are assigned a number when you enter. And then you go sit and wait with half of your city's population.

And wait.

And wait.

And if you're lucky, you sit close enough to the front so that you can eavesdrop and hear some of the stories. Such as the poor girl who had her purse stolen and now couldn't get a new Social Security Card because she didn't have any identification (she had foolishly stored her old card in her purse as well). But my favorite was the Belligerent Man. Below is a snippet of his conversation with the clerk:

Belligerent Man: I ain't got no Social Security checks since February!
Poor Clerk: It says here you have an outstanding warrant for your arrest.
Belligerent Man: For what?
Poor Clerk: It doesn't say. It just says you have an outstanding warrant for your arrest.
Belligerent Man: So what?
Poor Clerk: You can't receive your benefits if you have a warrant out for your arrest or if you are in prison.
Belligerent Man: How the hell am I supposed to know there's a warrant out on me until they arrest me?

And on and on they spoke in circles. But the guy did have a good point.

Unfortunately, my children didn't find any of this amusing. After ten minutes, Zoey began squirming and Zed began crying. The angry glares from my fellow citizens started soon after. "What?" I screamed at them telepathically. "You don't feel like crying as well? I know I do!"

Finally, after forty-five grueling minutes, the world's most chipper government worker called our number. This guy was smiling, making small talk, and even talking to my kids. This didn't sit well with the cynic in me. Call me old fashioned, but I like my government workers to be crusty misanthropes. Must've been his first day on the job.

But at least I got Zed's number. And if I don't receive the card in fourteen days, I get to go back and relive the fun!

THE STREAK CONTINUES!

Remember how I told you my daughter is unable to take a decent class picture? We received the picture of her entire class today.

Still no signs of improvement.

Big surprise! She's not smiling. But it looks as if the photographer said, "Okay, kids! I want to see a big smile from everyone except Zoey. Zoey, I'd like you to try to touch your ears with your shoulders. Can you do that, honey?"

She can.

We'll still buy plenty of pictures.

ONE THING I'LL NEVER HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT WITH HER IS A LACK OF SELF-ESTEEM

Recently, whenever I do something nice for her, Zoey will say, "Dad, you're the best." Melts the heart.

Today, I threw her a curveball. "No, I'm not. You're the best."

Her reply? "I know."

BECAUSE MY ARMS ARE GOING TO FALL OFF IF I DON'T

The weather's been nice, so we've been spending a lot of time on our swing set. Zed cackles the entire time he's swinging. Zoey shouts, "Higher, Daddy! Higher!" the entire time she's swinging. The swingset also has a rock climbing wall, a slide, a clubhouse, and a sandbox. We also have a roller coaster, a castle, and another slide in the backyard (it looks like a Little Tykes testing facility (or a daycare)). But you'd never know.

All. We. Do. Is. Swing.

I pushed those kids in their swings for forty-five minutes straight today (no exaggeration). If this keeps up, I'm going to have Popeye arms by the end of the summer. Or be dead. One of the two.

I think I need to hire some teenagers to do all my dirty work. I'll sit in a lawn chair and drink a few beers while they push my children in the swings. In fact, I've been tempted to run the following ad in our local alternative weekly:

Swingers Wanted
For afternoon playdates. Please contact Chag or Ella at 555-5555.

Think I'd get any takers?

GHS: 1 (because I'm beginning to believe we'll never get a decent school picture)

An Open Letter To The Local Pump It Up Wannabes

I'm well aware that I will effortlessly transform into a bitter old curmudgeon during my golden years, one of those guys who's always yelling at the bagger at the supermarket not to crush his loaf of bread or writing nasty letters to companies that irritate him. So I figured I better start practicing now. Plus, Mrs. Fortune made it look like so much fun.

To Whom It May Concern:

I'm sure your son or daughter has attended numerous birthday parties at our local Pump It Up facility. And I'm sure you thought to yourself, as most of us have, "This doesn't look so hard. I could just buy a couple of those $4,000 bounce houses from Sam's Club, lease a warehouse, and rent it out for birthday parties at $250 a pop. I'll retire to Cancun in ten years!"

If you build it, they will come. But it doesn't mean they'll come back.

If you're running a business that caters to children, you might want to hire employees who actually like children. I'm aware that little girl vomited all over the place, but it's not like she threw up on your teenage attendant. There was no reason for your employee to look at that little girl with so much hate and disgust in her eyes. It's just a little vomit. Hire some employees with backbone.

And would it kill your employees to be a little more hands-on? There's three of them roaming around the premises, but all they seem to be doing is bellowing "Slow down!" or "Slide feet first!" or "Oh my God! Is that kid vomiting?" at random children .Wouldn't they be better utilized actually helping our children up the ladders so we adults don't have to stop gossiping about the other adults and children who didn't show up to the party talking to each other? If we wanted to play with our children, the birthday party would've been held at a park.

And while I realize there's always some little wuss at the party who will not go down the slides or jump no matter how much his mother begs and pleads, I do not believe you should cater to, and thereby validate, this kid's trepidation by bringing out a car for him to ride. Do you have any idea what happens when you introduce one car to a roomful of three-year-olds? Words like bloodbath and melee come to mind.

And in regards to your company's slogan: we all loved the 'got milk?' ads when they started thirteen years ago. But 'got fun?' just doesn't cut it in this day and age. Create a slogan that's a little more edgy, a little more hip. Create a slogan that hasn't been co-opted by every other no-talent marketing mind for the past thirteen years. got fun? doesn't tell me anything. You could be advertising for a baseball team or vibrators for all I know.

In closing, I believe if you address all of my concerns, you will create an experience every bit as much fun as Pump It Up.

Hugs & Kisses,
Chag

Ego Tripping At The Gates Of Hell

The Wall Street Journal did a roundup of daddy blogs in today's edition. They covered Daddy Types, Rebel Dad, and my buddy MetroDad. And they were insane nice enough to include me as well. I'm assuming all the other daddy blogs were down for maintenance the day they were researching the article.

Anyway, if you're like me and do not read The Wall Street Journal (my idea of investing is buying my children's clothing at yard sales, letting the kids wear them for a few months, and hoping to sell the clothing later for a profit at consignment sales), here's the bit about my site:

Cynical Dad
CynicalDad.blogspot.com
Those seeking ironic relief from the lovey-dovey mush that dominates many parent sites can check out Cynical Dad, which takes a "humorous and cynical look at parenting." Updated regularly, titles of recent posts include: "Because It's Not A Birthday Party Until You're Performing the Heimlich Maneuver" and "My Daughter Wants her Daddy Dead." Cynical Dad links to other sites that take a humorous look at child care, including It's Not All Mary Poppins (DayCareDaze.blogspot.com) and Grumppopotamus (Grumppopotamus.blogspot.com).

Cool, huh? They killed trees to write about this stupid site! Yeah, I know it's narcissistic as hell to show you guys this. But hey, it's not every day I get this kind of publicity.

And just to show you I haven't developed into a raging megalomaniac (at least not yet), I'm going to let you read the first print review I ever received (which could very well be the worst review ever received by anyone).

Back in 1996, I wrote a monthly zine that was satirical and cynical in nature. I would write eight or so articles, all under different noms de plume. After my very first issue, a now-defunct magazine, the net, printed a review of my site. Keep in mind this was in the early days of the Internet. How early? They had me in the Media section, along with sites like USA Today and PBS. Anyway, here's the review:

[Name of my old site] tries. It tries really hard. I'm not sure what exactly it is trying to do, but whatever it is, it fails. It wants to be a Web zine with a GenX audience. While some of the story concepts are almost amusing, the site uses Frames for no apparent reason, with no visible means of navigating to other pages. The backgrounds are atrocious enough in and of themselves but with black text (bolded in a futile attempt to make the text readable), the result is truly horrendous. [Name of my old site] did succeed in making me resolve never to go back.

If I had taken this review to heart, I probably never would have written another word or designed another web site.

Of course, maybe that wouldn't have been such a bad thing.

Stuff Only I Care About VI

DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK

Spin posted a review of Guns N' Roses' Chinese Democracy. It's pretty much what I expected. You can read the review here.

DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK REDUX

It's funny. On Monday, Ella and I were having conversations about actors and musicians, playing the "Whatever happened to...?" game. One of our subjects was the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Today, I read on You Ain't No Picasso that they have a new video out. The song, Dani California, sucks but the video, in which they perform as many different bands, is cool. You can check it out here.

DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK REDUX REDUX

I watch entirely too much television. Sue me. Anyway, one of my favorite shows started its second season on Friday night. Wonder Showzen is a very demented little "children's show" (BUT IT IS DEFINITELY NOT FOR KIDS) that makes South Park look like Dora the Explorer.

DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK REDUX REDUX REDUX

Baseball season starts tonight. And how did the Yankees go about strengthening their weak starting rotation? By picking up Johnny Damon! They'll really need to live up to the Bronx Bombers nickname this year.

Go Yankees!

SUNDAY MORNING HANGOVER

Here are some of the more interesting/entertaining posts I've come across this week:

• MC GGC (Girl's Gone Child) needs a girls night out.
• Mir enjoys a night of Bingo with her kids.
• Mrs. Fortune asks the Internet to help name her child.
• Rockstar Mommy hires Laurie Berkner to babysitter her children.
• Wood has tea with her pediatrician.
  

FUN WITH GOOGLE

Here are some recent search terms people have used to get to my site:

• pimping my hi 5
  Wait! Is this like Pimp My Ride, only with children's television icons? If so, there's no one that needs pimping like Hi-5. We love that show, but God it seems their wardrobe people are not only stuck in the 80s, but are also blind.
• imagine all the carnage when 22 grams of self
  Imagine all the carnage if I had any idea what you're talking about.
• spotted seal digestive system
  And next week we'll discuss the mating habits of the armadillo.
• dad hated my long hair
  So I ran away from home, joined a band, and am now bussing tables at Chili's. I showed him.
• rat feces in peanut butter manufacturing?
  Yes. Not much has changed since George Washington Carver's days.
• repeat the tylenol if kids throw up the medicine
  Who needs pediatricians when you have Dr. Google? He makes house calls, after all.
• crying fellatio
  If someone's crying during fellatio, you ain't doing it right.
• fellatio while breastfeeding
  Damn, dude. Can't you keep it in your pants for a few more minutes?