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The Picker

10 Oct

I am constantly telling my son to stop picking his nose. I however, spend the first ten minutes after arriving home in the evening doing just that. I will also do it whenever I go to the bathroom. In fact, I sometimes go to the bathroom just to do it. I do it in the car but only after dark. It’s not that I’m proud of it but how can you not do it? I find it hard to believe that there are people in this world who don’t feel the urge to dig in and take out all that good stuff. “Look it!” He is yelling in an ordering tone, filled with joy, pointing a mucus covered finger. And I love him so much, but this so disgusting. The fact that you enjoy the smell of  your own farts doesn’t mean that you appreciate it when your kids fart on your hand when you apply butt paste during a diaper change. Same goes for nose picking. You may say that I set a bad example with my own digging, but when I visit his daycare it seems like all the kids suffer from the same pre existing condition called Indexus En Nostrilus. They walk around, one hand holding a toy and the other searching for gold.

Stop picking your nose

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My First Time

1 Sep

You never forget your first time.

The adrenalin rush, the fear of the unknown, trying to play it cool, not to make a fool of yourself.

The first time you take your kid to the ER. Why, what did you think I’m talking about?

The drawer fell on his foot. And while we warn him over and over again to be careful of all kind of stuff, it wasn’t his fault at all. We told him to put his cup in the drawer. And he did. And it’s a new house so we are still learning where the builder took his shortcuts. I heard a boom, then I counted twenty one, twenty two, twenty three. And the screaming started. About an hour later we went to the ER. Was pretty quite there, and with a little kid it didn’t take long before they called us in.

After the X-Ray, the Dr. came. No broken bones, no serious damage. But he would like to drain the blood from the toe. I remembered that my wife once closed the car door on her finger and had a similar procedure, and did not complain about it too much. I forgot that woman are tough, and that man and children are not. So being the shitty dad that I am I told him that it’s not going to hurt. Well it hurt like a motherfucker and in addition to my wife and me, we needed four more nurses to hold him down while the Dr was doing his thing. In his despair he called for help from the only person in the room that was not a part of all of it, his younger sister who was resting comfortably in her stroller completely indifferent to the drama evolving not five feet from her.

They fell asleep on the way home, and the next day he had a booboo to show off.

You never forget your first time…

Another poop story (not for the faint of heart)

27 Jun

Lately, as our plan to purchase our first home moves along , the adult conversation is about down payments, closing costs interest rates etc. Not so was the discussion that took place in the middle of the night a couple of nights ago. I did not remember it in the morning after but my wife’s hard drive is better then mine and she was there to remind me:

Wife: “What was that noise?”

Me: “He just pooped”.

Wife: “Are you sure?”

Me: “His ass is in my face”.

Wife: “Oh shit”.

And shitty it was let me tell ya (he was wearing a diaper thankfully, but still)…

In a related story, last night he was twisting and turning so much in bed ( It is important to mention that my son keeps on sneaking into our bed at night), that at 4:30am I decided to go to his room to sleep on the guest’s futon. Two minutes later he was an inch from my face talking about Robots and Dinosaurs. It smelled awful so I asked him if he pooped to which he proudly replied “Yup!” .This was one of the worst shit mess I’ve seen in a while. It went all over his legs, then he touched it with his hand which he then put on the sofa… What can I say, Morning has broken.

Bones

9 Jun

Corn

The wife had a very concerned expression on her face. “He is putting Toby on his penis” she said.

She was giving him a bath at the time, the baby in the poop seat next to her. The poop seat is just a bouncy seat but  both of our kids and also other kids that we know tend to shit when placed on one. I was not so involved as I was getting ready to watch the basketball game of course.

I walked into the bathroom, where my giggling son was doing the deed and understood the problem. “It’s not Toby, it’s Bulstrode the Barge that he puts on his penis” I shouted to her (Both from Thomas and Friends Just in case you are not in the kids business).

And yes he was putting it over his penis and enjoying it. This throws me back to one of my earliest memories. I was probably in Pre K when the teacher asked the kids where do we have bones. My turn came after “Hands” and “Legs” and I said “Penis!” The teacher and the assistant both laughed the hardest they did that year, and said that “no, there is no bone there”. But I never stopped  working that bone angle and eventually became a master jerk off.

“Potty” Said my son after the bath. He set there for about a minute and then shouted:”I did it!”. We went to look and there was it, an adult like in size and smell turd, with corn kernels proudly sticking out.

Indeed, my son is growing up.