Actual photograph of the Internet literally exploding.
Hyperbole Literally Makes the Internet Explode
Clickbait Hurts Everyone to the Point of Death
I get it. Really, I do. The more people click on your link, the more money you make. But the escalation of internet grandiosity is starting to grate. To get clicks, your headline has to be bigger, taller, faster, more emotional than the other guy’s.
But we are over-promising and under-delivering. We’re getting sick of the internet. Continue Reading…
“One day, I will put you down for the last time. Also, I’m going to put you down right now because you pooped. Where’s Mommy?”
A Stay At Home Dad No More
Crybaby Father Complains about Having a Job
I am a homemaker. I am a stay at home dad. I have done this for the past thirteen years. I have taken care of four houses (not at the same time), three children, two hamsters, several fish and a dog. And some pre-historic creatures that I’m not quite sure were real.
When I moved here, I gave up my high-paying job for the role of a 1950s housewife. I didn’t mind. The Wife had two young girls (Principessa and Thunderfoot) who needed lots of attention. The Wife was starting her own office, and I was to do the bookwork as well as take care of the home.
When Junior arrived, I entered into a role my younger self would have kicked me in the nuts for accepting—stay at home dad to an infant. I really started to enjoy the role when he became interactive. Let’s face it: Newborns don’t give you much to work with. But when the kid starts looking at you—really looking at you—and communicating and, becomes ambulatory and, especially, is capable of coherent speech, taking care of him becomes a lot less boring.
Last December, I took a full-time, temporary position. It was not supposed to last longer than the end of the first quarter of this year. Fine. I could handle that. It wasn’t fulfilling work, but it had a short time line that would allow me to get back to taking care of my son and my home in four months at the most.
I didn’t like not being there to drop my son off and pick him up from the bus. I didn’t like having to take care of everything that needed attention at night and on weekends. Too many times that meant telling my virtual only child* that I didn’t have time to play with him. I didn’t like my wife becoming his primary caregiver. That was my job.
And then came the end of the first quarter, but not the end of my employment. They decided to keep me on…and on and on. The next thing I knew, I had found permanent, full-time employment with another company.
Then it hit me: The job I had grown to love, that of a stay-at-home dad, was gone forever. Continue Reading…
Peter often fantasizes about being crushed by a riding mower. That would teach his family. Too bad he has a push mower.
Father’s Day vs. Mother’s Day
Local Man Wants to be Treated like a Mother on Father’s Day
Father’s Day has a history born of tragedy, and that tragedy continues.
I woke up this morning and the Wife said, “I’m so glad you cut the grass yesterday because I would have felt bad asking you to do it today.” But she still would have. I can’t imagine asking her to cook dinner on Mother’s Day, but somehow, asking me to cut the grass on Father’s Day was not desirable, but still acceptable. Such is the nature of Daddom.
Mother’s Day is all about mothers. They get breakfast in bed. They get taken out to brunch or dinner. They get a one-day vacation from dealing with the unpleasantness of kids.
Father’s Day, apparently, is all about kids. Continue Reading…
Boy who caught a fish doesn’t realize what a loser he is compared to younger boy who crashed his family’s party.
Why didn’t you tell me it was a family party?!
Unwitting Party-Crashing Mother Mortified as Son Wins Fishing Contest
I love this story because it happened to the Wife and not me.
Junior wanted to see his step-cousins before they go to spend the summer with their mother, so the Wife asked her sister if she and Junior could come visit the boys. The Wife’s sister (my Sister-In-Law) said that she, her husband (my Brother-In-Law) and the boys (my BIL’s kids from a previous marriage [I know this is hard to follow…]) were going to their grandmother’s (my BIL’s mother’s) house to go fishing at a nearby pond, but the Wife and Junior were welcome to join them.
What the Wife discovered when she arrived at her sister’s mother-in-law’s house, was that the MIL was having a party for her children, her husband’s children, and all the grandkids of both.
In essence, the Wife and Junior were crashing a family party. And that’s where the story BEGINS. Continue Reading…
They didn’t teach you about the elephants in school? Yeah, you’ll be fighting elephants in the rain.
The Perfect Metaphor for Life
Mother Nature Teaches Graduates First Post-Grad Life Lesson; Hopes They Learned about Metaphors
Thunderfoot was graduated from high school last Sunday. (Aside: That sounds funny, but only because everyone misuses the word “graduated.”) Her class received numerous hoots and hollers and round after round of applause from adoring friends and families.
Then Mother Natures had a life lesson for the graduates. Continue Reading…
Twenty seconds ago, she was underwater. By tomorrow, his hair will be gray.
Baby in Peril as Father Looks at Cleavage
Another in a series of emails to my expectant brother who wanted child-rearing advice
You may think you have a sharp mind. You may think you have the ability to sustain focus and concentration. You are wrong.
In July or August after her first birthday, you will take your daughter to the public pool. You will set her in the kiddie play area, and you will hover over her as she explores this new world. You will think that you are keeping a close eye on her.
Then you will realize that you have been looking away. You will look back to your child, and she will be standing, bent at the waist, with her head underwater. Continue Reading…
The lack of shoes was a nice touch.
Playing the Incompetence Card
Man Accuses Wife of Lawn Care Arson
Wives often accuse husbands of playing the Incompetence card when it comes to household chores. In my house, I choose to see it as I am not incompetent; the Wife is exceedingly particular.
As the stay at home dad, many of the household chores rightly fell to me. But the Wife reclaimed the laundry after accusing me of intentional incompetence. It wasn’t enough for me to separate the clothes into whites, darks, and colors; to use the right washer and dryer settings; to sometimes use dryer sheets and sometimes not; to put delicates in a zippered bag and never in the dryer. No, she wants me to know which individual articles of clothing go in the dryer and which are to be hung up.
Somehow, she knows this, but I view it as impossible to know. I’ve tried. I’ve looked for common qualities among the clothes in each group. But there are none.
100% of my son’s and my clothes go in the dryer. But the wife’s and the clothes-hound Principessa’s and the filth-embedded clothes of Thunderfoot? There is no rhyme or reason to what gets the hot air and tumble treatment.
The wife can see it as my purposeful incompetence, but it ain’t so.
Today, the Wife played the Incompetence card. Continue Reading…