Archive | Toys RSS feed for this section

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

Namanini

11 Jul

“Wehh ma Namanini?”

We looked everywhere.

“Wehh ma Namanini” means “Where is my Lamborghini”. He is actually pretty good about it, not complaining too much. But we are obsessed. Where could it be? We searched the cars better then an entire Florida CSI team looking for DNA. The rooms, the kitchen, even the fridge was frisked. Nada.

The toilet is clogged. When you flush, more then one person’s poop comes up. Almost to the top. I fucking hate it. I took one of those toilet snakes, stuck it in the crap, and started twisting. You do this and you begin to understand why plumbers charge so much. The water went down. The snake is covered with everything that was in there. How do you clean it? It still won’t flush properly which makes it a pee only bathroom. Of course we forget. So the next morning I’m with the snake again in the shitter. This time it’s working and we can flush again. But as I’m cleaning my work area I start thinking about how the Lamborghini disappeared around the same time that the toilet got clogged and how these two cases might be somehow related, and how thiswill make a great Shitty Dad post.

I’m in the middle of a home inspection (we are trying to buy) and my phone is ringing. It’s my wife. I can’t pick up but she is calling again. She knows I’m busy so it must be important. When I finally answer she is screaming in my ear:”I found the Namanini!” I almost kiss the inspector but somehow keep it together. I came back home, went to the bathroom, and now it’s clogged again.

“Whee ma Beedubeyou (BMW)?”

He sure knows his cars!

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.