Tag Archives: baby

Old Dog’s Tricks

23 Dec

Just like everybody else, we are seeing family this holiday season. My wife’s father was very happy to see us. Him, his wife, and two dogs were waiting for us. The small nervous dachshund was placed in another room and the kids were left to play with the old, extremely long basset hound.

My son and him had an immediate connection, and not thirty minutes from the time we arrived, they were both  lying on the floor engaged in deep conversation.

My eleven month old daughter was a bit more suspicious, and it took her some time to warm up, but she finally did. So did the dog, and before I could say bastard hound he was dry humping my baby.

After we separated them, just to make sure I understood what was going on, my father in law’s wife explained that the dog did it because of my daughter’s “smells“. She repeated it many times because if it’s important you have to make sure everybody got it!

Advertisements

The Long And Winding Road

19 Nov

The baby started crying shortly after we started heading back . It turns out, that in the process of getting out we forgot the formula at home. A screaming baby in the back seat of the car for any ride longer then thirty seconds is a nightmare. A hungry screaming baby is adding the guilt factor which makes it unbearable. Almost.

So we started singing all the songs that work. Songs that work are giving you the illusion that you can over come the crying. But it’s quiet only while you sing. Stop singing and a different kind of a concert begins. So here we are, mom and dad, both nursing a cold, singing our lungs out with some assistance from our older one, driving as fast as we can when suddenly the car in front of us is slowing down until it stops completely, and moves to the side of the road. My initial thought was that there has been an accident, but no, there was no accident. The lady in the Prius (of course) across from me had her car stopped in the middle with blinking lights and a stupid smile, while two ducks, birds of a feather, were trying to cross the road. Everybody around us seemed very happy. They did not have a screaming infant in their car. I waited for about a minute and then pure honesty took over and I shouted “Fuck the ducks!” And took off. The annoying lady in the Prius didn’t like it at all.

Happy Thanksgiving.

* No ducks or cars were harmed during the making of this post.

Of Shite and Men

2 Oct

    • Would you like some Champagne?” At first we said no, then they asked again, more firmly and we said yes. A mistake considering that we haven’t had a drink in so long that we forgot how to drink, It was only eleven in the AM, and that it was a birthday party for a three year old. We felt that it was getting too crowded and noisy for our seven months old daughter and tried to leave but we were ordered to “Stay for the cake!” We regretted it shortly after, when our baby had an explosion of diarrhea that went over her clothes. They barely let my wife get out to go to the car, where she found out she didn’t have a change of cloths for the girl. The ride home was great…

 

    • How do you measure pride? Since there is no way of quantifying how proud one is, it has to be compared to other moments to know if it’s More or Less. I was prouder then an athlete’s parents seeing their child as a pro for the first time on TV (“there’s my kid over there…) when I saw my first born sitting on the toilet. Not so much for sitting there, but for doing it while on the iPad. That’s my big boy!

 

    • My friend from California does it to me. We speak once or twice a week, and he never fails me. Winter Spring Summer, or Fall, all I need to do is call, and five minutes into the conversation I have to shit. He is my Shit Trigger or “Shrigger”. “Call Shitty Dad’s Friend From California Today, And Say Goodbye To Constipation! Call today, operators are standing by.”

 

    • To the guy who walks in to our locker room/ restroom at work, just at the time when about a dozen guys are changing to soccer gear, walking into the one available stool with a grin on his face like some fool on a hill, and taking the stinkiest, noisiest shit I have ever smelled and heard in my life. You arrogant prick. I think twice before farting in the car, making sure no one will smell it if I stop at a traffic light. And here you are Mr. “Well, this is what bathrooms are for”, instead of going to the other toilet fifty feet away decide that it’s cool to do it there. Nobody said anything when this was going on but let me tell you something, I saw the looks, and none of us will ever be friends with you.

 

Indian Buffet

29 Jul

I love Indian food. Buffet style especially.
My stomach, not so much.

This is why when i walk into the restaurant I’m always happy, exchanging pleasantries with the staff, throwing a couple of jokes up in the air. I enjoy the food. Take my time, go for a second and sometimes a third serving.
But when I leave I’m always running. Barely making it to the bathroom at home. There were a few cases where my wife had to take over the wheel and drive, because I was afraid that braking would result in a wet fart.

Having kids with you, especially a baby complicates things because a great baby would let you eat without any interruptions, but would get hungry right after that so instead of racing for the car, you now have to sit and feed your child and smile and be nice to all the people who congratulate you on your wonderful kids.
One might ask why don’t I just go to the toilet at the restaurant. There are two parts to the answer. One, this kind of reaction requires a lot of privacy. The second one is that I would hate doing it them. One time, I had to shit so bad after such a lunch buffet, that we had to stop at a Dunkin’ Donuts and use their bathroom. This was a brand new branch that just opened a couple of days before I got there. They were smiling at me when I walked in but not when I left. The place just wasn’t the same again after that.

The Other Woman (Kinda R Rated)

16 Jul


We start touching each other. I don’t know this woman. This feels so good. Natural. We are all alone. Then the clothes comes off, her’s first. It’s like I’m twenty again. I know what is going to happen but I’m still not a hundred percent sure that it will. I am so on! We touch some more. I am not at all concerned about the fact that I’m happily married and a father of two amazing kids. Why am I not feeling guilty? I place my hand between her thighs. She is ready for me. And I’m  for her. Then my wife pushes me. I wake up, and she is telling me that I was snoring (I never snore…). I am on my back, so maybe I was snoring.

I look to my left and see my daughter in the co-sleeper, look to the right and see my son in the middle of the bed and my wife next to him, and understand that under the circumstances I just had a very inappropriate (almost) wet dream.

Judge me not for my dream but for the fact that I’m writing this post on my phone, sitting on the floor in my son’s bedroom, minutes after tucking him in!

 

* I would like to thank my wife, the love of my life for still loving me even after this post.

People Who Don’t Have Kids

20 Jun

People who don’t have kids:

– Think you are a slacker and that you are having fun when you take a personal day to stay home with a sick kid.

– Can drive tiny cars.

– Probably have less sex then you, but say they do.

-Don’t value the power of Mad Man as an anaesthesiac.

– Don’t know what they are missing even though you really want to change places with them sometimes.

– Are not on your side when you are holding the line at the store because your diapers coupon isnot accepted and you make a scene.

– Think that if you are tired in the morning it’s because you were partying all night. They don’t know that you tucked everybody in, and waited until they are all asleep so you can finally hide somewhere and jerk off.

– Have no idea about the PBS morning lineup.

– Bring the noisiest, messiest gifts.

– Hear: “We need more formula” and ask: “Are you a scientist?”

– Are not as brave as you are. You clean shit everyday. They would never shake your hand again if they saw you do it.

Dirty Diaper

Night Fart

19 Apr

Last night, my wife was farting up a storm. In her sleep. We had a guest using the other bedroom so the kids stayed with us. I counted fourteen farts before I stopped counting. It was two AM, and I was feeding the little one, when I witnessed the phenomenon. You know the sound that a semi-trailer makes on the highway sometimes? Like the driver lets go of the gas pedal   and a horse like noise comes out. That’s what her farts sounded like. And she didn’t even move, not even a moan. One of them was so loud that it startled my first born  so much that he almost fell off the bed. I had to push him with my foot so he stays on his bed and doesn’t end up on the floor. How can such a beautiful creature produce suce thunders? Yes, my foot, I was feeding the baby.

About a half an hour later, my wife wasn’t farting anymore, the baby was asleep. I was wiped. I finally went to sleep. I woke up a couple of hours later realizing that my son somehow managed to sneak into our bed, and was now patting me on the shoulder and saying: “su-si, su-si…” I just barked: “NO PUSHING” and closed my eyes. It took my a while to understand that I in the boy’s way and this gentleman of a toddler was actually saying: “excuse me” cause he wanted to get off the bed and go play.

What a shitty dad.farts like a truck

What a Shitty Dad

18 Apr

Toilet  seat for shitty dad

After months of slaving around the house, your wife is finally ready to go out with a few girlfriends for dinner at the Cheesecake factory. before she leaves she makes sure that dinner is ready for you and your first born, and that a bottle is ready for the 10 week old who is being handed to you just before she leaves. Shrek is is on  even before the door closes behind your wife, your youngest offspring takes a sip of milk and is already asleep. You take advantage of the sudden freedom, and start stuffing your face with anything within an arms reach. The baby wakes up, the toddler is redecorating the floor with dinner and then it happens. It’s not like you can control it or anything, it’s just there. You have to take a dump. What are you going to do? A two and a half months old infant is sucking milk out of a bottle, and you calculate your every move so you don’t release a wet fart, you must to shit, right now. You leave the bottle and go to the bathroom with the baby in your arms, quickly taking your pants off while balancing the poor bundle of joy. You seat down. Explosion. Relief. You hold the baby sitting up just the way the lactation advisor told your wife to do in a patronizing tone, and when she burps, after putting her through stink hell all you can think is: “Please don’t spit up into my underwear” and she does. You clean the white stain first because it doesn’t look right, and only then you check to see if your own flesh and blood needs her face cleaned. What a shitty dad.