MetroDad

Your Man in Asia

Thanks for all your e-mails.  Not only the ones regarding the Virginia Tech incident but also the ones checking to see whether I'm still alive.  You guys rock!  I should have told you that I was headed out to Asia for a business trip.  I just spent a week in Vietnam and am now spending this week in Hong Kong, one of my all-time favorite cities in the world. 

Needless to say, I miss BossLady and the Peanut terribly.   Anyway, I've got to run off to work but, before I go, here are a few quick thoughts...

NOTHING SAYS CLASS LIKE CHARMIN PLUS!

My mother is a varsity traveler.  For over 20 years, she was a schoolteacher and used to spend her summers going on these amazing journeys.  Usually solo. She's trekked across Mozambique, sailed the Crimea, and backpacked her way to the top of Mt. Fuji.  I've been to about 40 countries during the course of my lifetime and she's the only one I know who's been to even more. 

The reason my mother took all those trips solo is because my dad HATES to travel.  He literally judges each country based on the quality of their toilet paper.  One year, my mom took my dad for a return visit to Russia. They visited the Red Square, went to the ballet at the Bolshoi, toured the Hermitage, and did a million other cool things. 

When he returned to NYC, I asked him how the trip was.  His reply?  "Remember I told you how bad the toilet paper was in China?  It was even WORSE in Russia. Man, that country is never going to make it."

Spasiba, pops. Spasiba!

YES, BUT HE'S LEFT ME A LEGACY IN SO MANY OTHER WAYS

My father is a good guy.  He's always been an excellent provider and he instilled in me a love of reading and world history.  However, if I had to pick the top 5 things I've inherited from him, I'd have to go with these...

(1) The ability to eat food so quickly, it's like I was raised in prison.
(2) The tendency to tell the same 5 stories at every dinner party...loudly!
(3) The ugliest and smelliest feet this side of North Korea.
(4) A dangerous addiction to Q-tips.
(5) The inability to fix something requiring anything more complex than a screwdriver.

Pretty classy, eh? 

HEAD, SHOULDERS, KNEES AND HOS.  KNEES AND HOS!

As most of you know from his mentions here, the Doctor is one of my oldest friends.  If there's any doubt about why I love this guy, I leave you with the following Blackberry exchange:

MD:  "Doc, I'm currently in Vietnam. Had a long day so I came down to the hotel bar for a nightcap.  Turns out that the bar is having hip-hop night.  Very possibly the greatest rap DJ I've heard in years!  I just spent the last hour rocking out to old-school Biggie, Tupac, Biz Markie, and Digital Underground. 

Oh shit, don't look now but the DJ just started spinning some classic Rakim.  If he starts playing some KRS-One, I might just lose my mind!  Hip-hop is alive in the kingdom, yo!"

Much love, brother.

The Doctor: "Hey "homeboy!"  I don't really know what kinda clout that holds, considering the only rap DJ you've heard in years is when the Wiggles did their hip-hop Christmas special!

Boo yah!

Love,
Diggity

Proving once again, that it doesn't matter how far away you go, modern technology still allows for some good old-fashioned shit talking!  If any of you come to Manhattan and visit the Doctor's office, just tell him that you want the MetroDad discount.  The coupon code is ASSFACE!

By the way, I've seen a lot of scary things in my life but nothing compares to watching a bunch of fat 50-year-old German tourists shaking their moneymakers on the dance floor to Run-DMC.  It almost makes you want to give up dancing for good.

AMERICA: LOVE IT AND LIVE IT (A METRODAD RANT)

America sure has been taking a beating lately.  Pick up any newspaper and you'll see poll after poll demonstrating that citizens of foreign nations have an increasingly unfavorable opinion about our beloved country.

Look, I get it.  No matter what you think of him, George Bush is probably not the greatest representation of our country's people.  And it's clear that America's increased intervention (and surprisingly consistent bungling) in foreign affairs is the cause of this general discontent with America.

But make no mistake, my foreign friends.  America is still the greatest country in the world.  Nowhere else in the world can individuals rise out of nothing and achieve their dreams.  Shit, after serving in the U.S. army during the Korean War, my dad came to this country so broke he was 30 cents away from a quarter and couldn't afford the hole out of a donut.  Now, he rolls like P.Diddy! (ok, not really but if P.Diddy was a 73-year-old Korean man with an addiction to golf and his granddaughter, there might be a faint resemblance.)

Anyway, it's nice to be reminded how much other people abroad actually love everything about America. 

Last week in Vietnam, I met a guy who spoke flawless English.  When I asked him how he learned it, he told me he used to stay up late at night in bed listening to the Voice of America radio broadcasts.  I thought this was one of the coolest things I'd ever heard in my life!

When he found out I was from NYC, he freaked out and enthusiastically yelled, "New York!  I LOVE the Yankees! My dream is to have a big car that I can drive to Yankee Stadium one day and eat American hot dogs!"

10,000 miles away from home and I still can't avoid the damn Yankee fans!

So sure, we take a lot of shit from a lot of people and you know what?  A lot of it is probably well-deserved.  We're the biggest kids on the block and sometimes we're not very modest about it.  But heck, it's not really our fault.  We're a nation built on bravado and arrogance (What's that?  You want to tax our colonial asses and subjugate us to the Queen?  Up yours, man!  We're starting our own damn country!)

Anyway...I like to think that, at the end of the day, our country really does symbolize the hopes and dreams of millions of people from nations around the world. 

Except for maybe France.  Now, I've spent a lot of time in France during the course of my life.  In fact, I've probably been there about 15 times.  But you want to know what?  The French hate our fucking guts.  It's hard to believe they actually gave us the Statue of Liberty.  They must have been throwing it out anyway.  Because these people detest us.

As Dennis Miller once said, the French look at us and think we are one, big, collective Jethro bearing down on them, rope belt and all.

And you know something?  In all fairness, we might be hicks, but at least we're hicks who tend to our armpits more frequently than once every time Halley's comet is in the solar system. These people avoid showers like a blonde at the Bates Motel. They had to invent perfume. It wasn't an augmentation, it was a defense mechanism!

I once went there and met a beautiful young Parisian girl.  The only problem was that she smelled like a a garbageman eating Gorganzola cheese while getting a perm inside the septic tank of a slaughterhouse.

And although we, as a nation, take a beating in the press, we're still a great country.  Not only do we create opportunity but we also create things of great beauty, things that unconsciously interweave the American attributes of ingenuity, optimism, and some good old-fashioned living.

Things like: "All You Can Eat" Restaurants, the Clapper, the Temporary Insanity Plea, cutting-edge CD-ROM technology used for porn, deep-fried cheese, rain ponchos for dogs, and beer can hats!

The list goes on and on!

As a matter of fact, you want to know what's right with America more than anything?  Our right to speak out about everything that's wrong with it.  Sure, our politicians seem crooked and ethically challenged.  But you ever try to do business with a Chinese bureaucrat?  Bargain with a Mexican federale?  Or fight through red tape with the Pakistan Customs department?  Hell, I have.  And let me tell you something, there's some days that I think we're lucky to have the politicians we do have.  At least, we get the opportunity to dump their asses when we want to!

There's so much that IS right with America that it practically brings tears to my eyes.  Traveling abroad brings that into clearer focus more than you could ever imagine.  Sometimes, in order to best appreciate your one true love, you have to leave it for awhile. 

So remind yourself of that every now and again, my friends.

Take the family on Route 66, shop at the Galleria, fire up that massive barbecue, have your breasts enlarged, have your penis lengthened, sue your fucking neighbor, eat three Big Macs, drive 120 mph, pay the ticket, and thank the heavens and the stars that you live in the greatest country in the history of civilization!

IF MY LOVE OF AMERICA DOESN'T BRING A TEAR TO YOUR EYE, MAYBE THIS WILL

I've been speaking to BossLady and the Peanut at least once a day while I've been gone.  The Peanut, being only 2 1/2 years old, doesn't really comprehend the fact that I'm away or understand why I'm gone.  It's been more than a little traumatic for her.  When I spoke to her today, she cried into the phone, "I want to hug and kiss daddy. Where are you, daddy?"

Man, if that doesn't just break your heart, I don't know what will.

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Lastly, I've got about 20 hours of flying to do this week.  Perfect opportunity for another mailbag.  Leave your questions in the comments or send them to me via e-mail.  Anything goes, my friends.  Ask away!

To the Students of Virginia Tech

Dear students of Virginia Tech,

My heart goes out to all of you. The shocking nightmare of the ordeal that you have experienced is truly tragic and I can only imagine how scared you all must be. Your collective strength, dignity and maturity in the wake of this tragedy has been truly inspiring. And despite your relative youth, your humanity humbles all of us.

As both a parent and as a Korean-American man, this tragedy hits close to my heart.  And although those two roles are very important to me, they certainly don't mean anything to you.  And it's all of YOU that I keep thinking about. 

I'm not old enough to be your dad nor young enough to be your peer. Nor do I have any professional background in therapy or grief counseling.  But I think maybe sometimes it's helpful to hear the advice of a random stranger to give you some perspective on the horror that you've all just experienced.

Maybe I can help. 

See, back on September 27, 1990, I too was a young college student. I was far away from home attending college at UC-Berkeley. College was a blast. Life was good. I was a happy young man.

Or at least I was until that night.

On that night back in 1990, I'd been studying at the library for a few hours.  Afterwards, I joined some buddies at a bar to celebrate a friend's birthday.  Suddenly, out of nowhere, a deranged madman burst into the bar and started spraying dozens of shots from a Mac-10 machine gun.  Mayhem ensued.  Both the friends standing immediately to my left and to my right were shot. Twelve inches in either direction and I would have been shot in the back of the head.   

In the initial rampage, one student was killed. Seven others were wounded.  For almost 8 hours, the gunman held 33 of us hostage. The killer was clearly psychotic and, at more than one point, all of us inside were unsure whether we'd ever make it out of there alive. Thankfully, the entire ordeal finally ended when the SWAT team raided the bar and fatally killed the gunman.

Aside from living in NYC during 9/11, nothing in my life has ever come close to the sheer terror of that experience.  Hopefully, nothing else in your lives will ever come close to what you have just experienced. 

And although our experiences are different, maybe they're not so far apart. So, with a grain of salt, I want to offer you my advice and tell you what you may expect in the near future.  I hope that this, in some small way, helps you.

• The nightmares will be terrifying. You'll have a hard time sleeping for a long time.  Every time you close your eyes, you're going to be reliving those horrific moments. I needed to drown myself in Jack Daniels before I could even think about falling asleep every night.  I wish I could tell you a better way to avoid the nightmares but I can't.

• For a long time, the everyday sounds of life will have a much greater effect on you.  Whenever you hear a car backfire, you'll hit the floor in sheer panic. The sound of breaking glass will make your heart jump out of your body. This will all be so instinctive that you are sure that it will never end.  It will. It took me over a year. It took some of my friends even longer.
  

• You will find solace only with those with whom you shared the same experience as you. It's natural to develop a sort of "band of brothers" surivivor mentality.  And trust me, it's going to be extremely therapeutic for you to discuss your feelings with those who shared your experience and can appreciate the tragedy on a personal level.  But don't shun friends or family because you think they just don't "get it." They love you and are trying to be empathetic. Allow them in. 
  

• You may use alcohol and drugs to numb the pain and dull the memories. Be careful. I consumed more alcohol in the weeks following my experience than I had my entire life. I thought it helped but the healing really didn't begin until I stopped drinking and confronted the pain.

• See a counselor. Join support groups. Get professional help. Although I'd been through therapy before and was aware of its benefits, I had several friends who, prior to our ordeal, were not big believers. Trust me. Speaking to a trained professional can be immensely cathartic. 
  

• Stay away from all members of the press. They often lend a sympathetic ear at a time when you could gratefully use one. Don't trust them. They do not have the slightest regard for your best intentions. In incidents like this, they will live up to their reputations as bottom-feeding scumbags. 

• Turn off the TV. Forget about the newspapers. Don't surf the internet for stories related to the tragedy. You need some distance to process everything. The media coverage is only going to make you angry.  People are going to use this incident to push their political agendas, voice their individual opinions, and attack their personal enemies.  Ignore the vitriol.  Those people don't care about you and you've got to take care of yourselves. 

• Get away from it all. Grab some close friends and go camping. Take a vacation. Having friends with you will help you deal with what happened but putting some physical distance between you and the university will help also. 

Your feelings of fear and anxiety are going to last for awhile.  This is completely normal.  Try and be proactive and address your feelings now while you're in the moment.  Otherwise, you'll find yourself spiralling in depression months later.  Trust me.  I've seen it. 

Ultimately the incident can serve as a learning experience. You're lucky to be alive.  Be grateful for that.  Maybe it will give you more insight into how precious life is.  Maybe it will spur you to live your life in a different manner.  It will affect all of you in different ways.  Just try not to let the experience be a destructive one for you. 

My thoughts and prayers are with all of you.  Stay strong, Hokies. 

Love,
Pierre

THE DECLINE OF WESTERN SNIFFILIZATION

After being sick for almost an entire week, the Peanut is back to her normal, boisterous self.

I, on the other hand, feel like death warmed over. A bad case of the flu and the onset of allergy season have served to create a perfect storm of incapacity. Unfortunately, I took two days off from work in the past week to care for my ailing daughter so now I'm forced to suck it up and suffer through the pain.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those whiny men who snivel and whimper whenever they get sick.  However, when it comes to the flu and allergies, I'm not the toughest guy on the planet. Especially not in comparison to my ancestors.   

See, I am the modern descendent of a tough farming family who, for thousands of years, tended the fields in Korea with nothing more than a toothpick and a mangy dog. 

My father has often regaled us with stories of living for days off nothing but tree roots and raw eggs.  When he was young, his parents told him school was no longer necessary because he was going to live the rest of his life as a farmer.  Whenever he protested, his parents beat him. One day, he decided to run away and never looked back. Thus he began his life as a street urchin.  Many nights, he would often sleep outside in the fields with his cousin. The two of them would huddle together as snow fell all around them. To this day, the man is strong as an ox and as tough as nails. 

Me?  I ain't that tough.  However, I DO know that I've got a high threshold for pain.  Once, when I got an incredibly bad case of tennis elbow, I was STILL able to put on my v-neck sweater and pull the top down on my convertible.  That's right, motherfuckers!  By myself! 

Ok, so I'm not that tough.

I only eat raw eggs when they're on top of my steak tartare.  I get sick at least 4-5 times every year.  And the day that I sleep in the fields will be the same day that Frette comes out with a 10,000-thread count sleeping bag made out of a goose's pubic fur.   

The realization that I have personally destroyed the survival instincts of my Korean ancestors in less than a single generation is not lost on me.  As I was telling my personal food taster the other night, I can't help it. Like Jay-Z, I'm just a "product of my environment." 

The most symbolic aspect of my lack of toughness is the fact that I am the only member of my family who gets allergies.  I never had them growing up but, over the past 5 years, I've become a congested and sniffling mess.  My nose drips like Robert Downey, Jr. at a house party with Kate Moss. 

And as much as the flu is beating me into submission, it's really the allergies that are kicking my ass. According to my doctor, I'm pretty much allergic to EVERYTHING: mites, mold, pollen, trees, grass, cat dander and horses.  It is the running family joke that a man who comes from a long line of farmers is allergic to trees and grass. 

Are there any medical professionals out there?  Does anyone know what would happen if I mixed Scotch, TheraFlu, Allegra-D, Nasacort, Emergen-C, Airborne, chicken noodle soup, and ginseng tea all together? 

A Few of My Favorite Things...

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The Peanut has been sick for the past few days. 

So instead of having a hyperactive fireball of a toddler, BossLady and I are experiencing what life would be like with a sullen teenager. The Peanut barely speaks to us, lies sluggishly on the couch all the time, and hasn't cracked a smile for days. At any moment, I almost expect her to start smoking clove cigarettes, putting on black mascara, and trying to steal the car keys.

It kills me seeing my little daughter so down in the dumps. Yesterday, I stayed home to be with her and I tried EVERYTHING possible to try and cheer her up. I put my clothes on backwards and did silly dances. I put peanut butter on my face and let the dog lick it off. And, since I can practically fart on command, I played the "pull my finger" game with her for almost an hour.

Not even a chuckle! 

The whole time, the Peanut just stared at me with this weird Darryl Hannah-like half smile on her face, the one that says the lights are on but nobody's home.

Dejectedly, I flipped on the TV and asked the Peanut what she wanted to watch.  She replied "music movie, daddy."  Since BossLady had stayed home from work the previous day, the two of them watched "The Sound of Music" together and apparently the Peanut is now completely hooked on it. 

Since I'll do anything for my daughter, we watched "The Sound of Music" at least 3 times yesterday. Back-to-back! over 9 straight hours! I haven't watched the movie in 20 years and I really forgot how amazing it is. 

Some quick thoughts...

(1) I never realized that Captain von Trapp was played by Christopher Plummer. It's a sad reminder of how most of today's leading men are waifish girlie-men. Even though he's 78 years old now, I'll bet Christopher Plummer could still beat the crap out of Brad Pitt, Orlando Bloom, and Colin Farrell. All at the same time. With one arm tied behind his back.

(2) My mom is a huge fan of "The Sound of Music." She used to play the songs on the piano and sing them to me all the time. One year, we took a family vacation to Austria and she insisted that we spend an entire day in Salzburg doing the "Sound of Music" tour.  Being one of those aforementioned sullen teenagers, I naturally decided that I was way too cool for a "Sound of Music" tour and instead spent the entire day in a record store. What a freaking idiot I was. Kids, listen to your mothers!

(3) I wondered what the von Trapp kids were doing now and how they handled the transition from being child stars. So naturally, I Googled them. (How did people settle bar bets, stalk ex-girlfriends, or find free porn before Google?) Anyway, here's an update on all the kids. Amazingly, not one of them turned out like Dana Plato.

(4) I can't get the song "Edelweiss" out of my head. I also can't stop running around the house singing, "High on a hill was a lonely goatherd. Lay-dee odlleeo, hodlodlleeoay!!!" around the house.  I think the BossLady's getting ready to beat me on the head with a strudel.

(5) For those of you who never understood the sheer brilliance of "The Simpsons," one only has to watch the episode when Homer drives his car into a statue of a deer, whereupon Homer shouts: "D'oh", followed by Lisa: "A deer!" and then Marge who concludes: "A female deer."

Other highlights from the MetroFamily Tivo:

I'm glad to see the real Jack Bauer is back. For awhile, "24" was starting to turn into a soap opera and I was getting bored watching Milo's pubic-hair face. By the way, when Jack wickedly whispers "Say hello to your brother," and then kills Fayed? Chilled me to the bone. When will the producers of the show realize that the focus needs to be on Jack all the time.

For those of you who might have been wondering---yes, I do sing the theme song to "Silver Spoons" every time I see Ricky Schroeder onscreen ("Here we are, face to face. A couple of Silver Spoons. Togethhhhhher!") If you're under the age of 35, you probably have no idea what I'm talking about. Don't worry. This is how I feel whenever my dad starts talking about Ed Sullivan. Ed WHO?

And why aren't all of you watching "Friday Night Lights" yet? It's the best show about contemporary life in America on television and reflects all the best that television as a medium can offer us. The ensemble cast is brilliant and, as a whole, this may be some of the best story-telling and character development being done on television. Although the show has earned huge critical acclaim and a coveted Peabody Award, its struggled to find an audience, meaning that there may not be a second season. If this show gets replaced by "Flossing with the Stars," I'm going to be pissed. 

Raindrops on roses, my friends.  I'm out of here.  The Peanut is asking to see "The Sound of Music" again. 

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, good night!

 

Parenting: The Last Laugh

I think most of you know that while I take parenting pretty seriously, the one thing that I DON'T take seriously is myself. 

I mention this because it seems that many of today's parenting discussions have become very serious and somber.  You can't joke or make fun of ANYTHING anymore!  In fact, I read recently that adopted children no longer wish to be called "adoptees" anymore.  Can you believe that?  They all got together and decided that they now wish to be referred to as Asians! 

Now, somewhere out there, there's an adoptive parent getting ready to shoot me an angry e-mail. And I want you to listen to me...walk away from the computer, it was a joke.  A bad joke.  Let it go. It was just a comment on how pathetically neurotic we've all become over our own little pieces of turf.

Anyway, I bring this up because I've found that nowhere are the humorless more rampant than on today's parenting message boards. 

As I mentioned before, when the Peanut was first born, I used to hang out over on the UrbanBaby message boards.  At first, I went there seeking advice but after seeing so many judgmental people criticizing other people's parenting choices, I decided it would be fun to start messing with them and their self-righteous attitudes. 

Like pretending to be a woman and starting a thread asking whether it was ok for me to stop breastfeeding my 16-year-old.

Or the time when I read that all these mothers were planning to attend the "Million Mom March" and I wrote a comment saying, ""hey ladies, while you’re all up, can you get me a beer?"

Pretty funny, right? 

Not to some people.  Apparently, parenthood makes some people completely lose their sense of humor!  Man, I got flamed off that board so quickly, my head is still spinning!

How did we get to this point in contemporary America?  When did we become so damn serious about parenting that we stopped seeing the forest for the trees?  C'mon, folks.  Parenting is supposed to be fun.  Sure, it's stressful but that doesn't mean that we can't make light of it, does it? 

If I had more free time, I'd spend my entire day going onto these parenting forums and inciting them.  Unfortunately, I'm too busy leaving my child in front of the television with a set of steak knives while I drink scotch and watch baseball all day. 

Thankfully, I have my buddy Mark.

Although Mark is childless, he and I share the same sense of humor.  He also generally agrees with my assessment that most people have lost perspective on their lives and don't realize that their "BIG ISSUES" are really just the privileged whines of people with too much time or money on their hands (or, as my buddy James calls them, "high class problems.")

Anyway, whenever Mark has free time, he loves going on the Washington Post message boards and messing with all the indignant and self-righteous parents who take EVERYTHING so seriously.  I have to admit.  Reading his comments always leaves me giggling like a little school girl. 

Want to read some of his most recent work?  Check it out... 

On a discussion about the whole Club Libby Lu "controversy," Mark wrote:

"I am taking my 10 year old twin girls to a shooting range so they can take NRA courses on gun handling. Personally I think this type of activity counters the tween marketing hype and the Club Libby Lu phenomenon. Also, on the drive home, we talk about strategies for shooting and target ID at laser tag and, when they are older, paint ball events. I put my foot down when both girls asked that instead of donating their Barbies and Bratz dolls to charity can they use them for target practice...I said no.

I wonder if I am countering all the good I am doing by allowing them to wear lip gloss on the range."

Another time, there was a ridiculously heated parenting discussion about when a child should get a cell phone.  Here's Mark's comment:

"Here in TriChester (Tribeca: The new Westchester) we try to make sure both the moms pushing their $800 strollers and the child have matching phones and the child knows how to text message.

At PS 234, part of the reading and writing classes for third graders are BlackBerry techniques. The school, located in one of the wealthiest zip codes on earth, wants parents to donate their old BlackBerry's so no child is left behind other entitled children.

It is never too soon to begin to use those thumbs."

Proving that when it comes to parenting, the aggressively childless (aka "the anti-breeders") can be just as humorless, Mark found a forum of childless people complaining how they have to constantly pick up the slack at work for their co-worker parents. Again, here's his comment. 

"I am sorry but it is HARD being a working parent and if you are not a parent you should help to pick up the slack for the parents of the world. That’s your role to serve those of us who breed.

My wife is lucky she is allowed to work from home and raise our twin daughters. She is a senior girl with an escort service and is on outcall three days a week. I have a full time job but my boss understands. So when my wife has an outcall during the day, my boss lets me work from home. It is a blessing to be able to have conference calls and watch Barbie and Trixie play and feed them. And usually the outcall is only for a couple hours so when my wife comes home, we can both parent. And her boss lets her do phone chats and online video work from home as well. We are so lucky.

You may ask why my boss and co-workers are supportive. Well my wife throws my boss a freebie now and then, but it totally makes my working and parenting so much better. The girls have full time parenting!

So you childless adults shut up and help us all raise the next generation right."

See why we're friends?  And don't you agree with me that he really needs to start his own blog?  I think he should call it "The Caustic Caucasian" or "The White Shadow."  C'mon, you'd read him, wouldn't you?   

Anyway, is it me or do many of you find that we've turned parenting into such a serious topic that we can no longer joke about ANYTHING?  Because really, parenting is a hard enough job as it is.  A good sense of humor can go a looooong way. 

Gotta run.  My daughter is trying to flush the dog down the toilet!

Good Friday!

Every parent with young toddlers understands that it's healthy for one's marriage to schedule "date nights" with one's spouse in order to keep the marriage healthy.

But let's face it.  It ain't that easy.  Shit, the going rate for babysitters in NYC is $15/hour (plus dinner + cab fare.)  If BossLady and I want to run out for a burger, a beer, and a movie, it usually ends up costing us over $150.00!

Not really the cheap date night that we were looking for.

Today, the wife and I both took the day off from work for Good Friday.  However, we soon realized that the Peanut's daycare was open.  So instead of going to church, what did we do?  We dropped the kid off at daycare, returned home, took a 2-hour nap, went out for a leisurely lunch, did some shopping, and headed out to the movies ("Blades of Glory"...hilarious!)

Now, it's late at night and I'm feeling guilty.  Shocking?  Not really.  Considering I was raised as a Christian and grew up surrounded by Jews, guilt is always looming around somewhere in the background. 

Maybe it's all the scotch I've had tonight but I can't help but feel more than a little remorse that we had such a great time on Good Friday.  But you know what?  Screw it.  Both my wife and I work hard and we rarely get any free time to ourselves.  I don't have one of those WWJD bracelets but I'm pretty sure if Jesus had a kid, he'd do the same thing, right? 

Ok, maybe he wouldn't get high and start blogging but I'm sure he'd be with me in spirit (Holy spirit, right?)

Man, I really am going to hell.  Why?  Just because I wanted some "alone time" with my wife?  Am I the only one?  Anyone else play hooky today? 

No?  Ok, what are YOU doing this weekend? (Please tell me you're going to church to pray for my soul.)

An Open Letter to All Toddlers

Dear Toddlers:

We love you kids.  Really.  Most of the time you're absolutely adorable.  That little thing you do when you wrap both your arms around our necks, kiss us on the cheek, and say, "I love you, daddy"?  Kills us every time.  We can't get enough of that! 

We also love that you're speaking coherently now.  Life is so much easier now that you can verbalize the fact that wearing green socks makes you go completely insane.  Sorry about that.  Really, we had no idea.  Our bad.      

Seeing your imaginations at work these days has been a blast.  It's unbelievably cute watching you use the remote control as a telephone.  We wish you'd stop hiding it though.  Putting it in the refrigerator was a good idea.  We never would have looked there. 

And who knew you toddlers were so damn funny?  We LOVE that "everything is a hat" routine that you do.  When you wrapped daddy's jeans around your head, you looked like the cutest little suicide bomber this side of Tehran!  And that comedy bit about pretending to eat the dog food is the funniest thing since Eddie Murphy's "Raw."  Really, almost everything you do these days totally cracks us up. 

But, listen up, my little 3-foot friends. 

You're not going to be toddlers forever.  Pretty soon, that "being cute" thing is going to start wearing a little thin.  You're going to need to back it up with some serious substance.  After all, the world is filled with formerly cute kids who couldn't quite cut it at the next level.   If you want all this continued love and affection, you're going to need to raise your game. 

Here's some advice.

1. Enough with the whining.  Nobody likes a whiner.  Trust us on this one (if you don't believe us, ask Michael Moore!)  Seriously, you've really got to cut that out.  It's driving us fucking nuts.  Every time you whine (especially in public,) you make us want to leave you on the side of the road.  Besides, if you lazy toddlers ever took the time to run a cost/benefit analysis, you'd notice that the whining thing almost never pays off.  Service with a smile always works better.  Remember that, kiddos.

2. Make a decision and run with it.  This waffling has got to stop.  You toddlers change your minds faster than Rudy Guiliani changes his politics.  Do you want the freaking apple or don't you?  Do you want to go in the stroller or not?  Do you like looking at the pigeons or do they scare the crap out of you?  You're starting to remind us of that schizo ex-girlfriend from college.  Never a good sign.

3. Knock off the diva routine.  You toddlers have a bit of prima donna in you, n'est-ce pas?  I know you're part of the "ME Generation" but many of you behave like some spoiled actor who starts actually believing all the crap his publicists are telling him!  So knock off the Sean Preston Federline act, kiddos.  We're not rock stars.  We're just regular, working parents. No breakfast at noon.  No ice cream for lunch.  And no 24-hour room service.  Ok?   

4. It's NOT yours.  You seem to have adopted a mantra of "If I can see it, it's mine. If you have it, it's mine. If I think about it, it's mine."  Let me tell you something, kiddos.  You know when all of us leave in the morning, only to return home 8 hours later?  We're at work earning a living.  And while we're firm believers in the "mi casa es su casa" philosophy and don't really mind sharing our things with you, you need to ease up a little, ok?  That Blackberry?  Mine.  Those car keys?  Mine.  The cell phone, the sunglasses, the ipod?  Mine, mine, mine.  Please keep your peanut-butter-and-jelly fingers off them. 

5. Show some gratitude.  There is no clean underwear fairy.  There is no magic pop tart machine.  And vomit doesn't just clean itself up.  We have no problem doing all these things for you.  Just don't take them for granted.  After we've spent the past 4 hours blowing bubbles, drawing Elmo, pushing you on the swing, and wiping the dog poop off your shoes, sometimes we just need to hear a little "thank you" from you so that we don't feel like indentured servants. 

Thanks, toddlers.  Feel free to take all of this advice with a grain of salt.  We really do have your best interests at heart.  Besides, in 15 years, you're going to be begging us to buy you a car and you'll totally be sucking up to us. 

Our advice?  Start now!

Love,
Your parents

P.S. Where the heck did you put my Blackberry?