MetroDad

Fingers, Faces & Floaters

Over the past 4.5 years, I've been woken up by my lovely daughter in about a million possible ways.

When she was a baby, it was all very cute. I'd often arise to find her using my head as a pillow. However, I chalk that one up to sheer comfort. My head is abnormally large and I could imagine how an infant crawling on a bed would see my head and be naturally attracted to it. Kind of like Lindsay Lohan gravitating towards an open bar at the Chateau Marmont.

When I'd mention this to friends, they'd often tell me endearing stories about how their kids would wake them up: nuzzling on their neck, jumping on the bed, kissing them on the cheek, or gently cuddling with them in semi-slumber.

Sure, I got a little of that. 

Not too much though.

As the Peanut got older and developed a sense of humor (one for which I feel both proud and shamefully responsible,) she started coming up with amusing ways to wake me up:

• Sticking her fingers up my nose.

• Shining a flashlight in my eyes.

• Covering my face with a mountain of stuffed animals.

• Putting her sippy cup in my mouth and force feeding me apple juice.

• Drawing hieroglyphics on my face with a magic marker.

Now, I'm generally a crappy morning person. I'm usually so groggy and unfocused that it takes awhile for me to get my bearings. So invariably when my daughter wakes me up in one of her inventive ways, it scares the living crap out of me.

However, my startlement only makes my adorable little daughter laugh like a freaking hyena. Seriously. Have you ever seen a pre-schooler laugh so hard that tears are rolling down her cheeks? Feel free to come over any morning and witness for yourself.

Now, before I continue any further, I just want to say that the Peanut is the kind of girl who automatically folds her napkin on her lap at a restaurant but will then stick french fries up her nose to get a laugh.

If you sneeze, she'll say "Bless you," but then carefully check your hand to see if you caught any good boogers (apparently, the "good ones" are the green ones.)

In other words, my daughter is unfailingly polite and well-mannered---but dude, let's face it. She's fucking 4 years old!

The point of all this is that the Peanut has found a new way to start my days.

Recently, she's been waking up before me and occupying herself in her little den. As my alarm clock goes off, I drag myself out of bed and wearily make myself over to the master bathroom for my morning pee. 

As I lean over the toilet, I'm hit with an abominable smell that can only mean one thing. Sure enough, as I open my eyes, I look down and see that the Peanut has not only taken an enormous crap but has also failed to flush the toilet!

As I scream out her name, I can hear the Peanut laughing in the other room. When I sternly call her over and ask her why she left a giant log in my toilet, she toothily grins and says, "Do you like it, Daddy? It's a present for you!" She then starts cackling hilariously.

Once again, I feel both proud and shamefully responsible.

Meanwhile, does this look like a girl who would leave a floater in your toilet? 

 

By the way, this is the Peanut's variation of "Crying Wolf." Every time she goes to the bathroom and I'm in another room, she yells out, "Help, Daddy, Help! I've fallen in the toilet and I can't get out!" When I inevitably make my way to the bathroom, she jumps out of the toilet and yells, "Just kidding!"

Ahhh...the joys of modern parenting.

Meanwhile, in 15 years, how much is she going to hate that I put this photo of her up here? Sorry, Peanut. Should have thought of that when you were licking my face and sticking jelly beans up my nose at 6:00 am. Payback's a bitch.

I love you, kiddo!

25 Random Things About Me: The Peanut

For those of you on Facebook, you're probably aware of the recent digital craze revolving around a chain-letter/literary exercise called “25 Random Things About Me."

The way it works is people write a note with 25 heartfelt observations about themselves. After completing it, they then "tag" 25 friends to do the same. The idea is to learn the little quirks about people that may not come up in everyday conversation. As the NY Times reported, people seem to have gotten hooked on it because it's "a creative way to indulge in social networking without coming off as needy or shamelessly self-absorbed."  Whatever.

Anyway, the following is how I would imagine my 4-year-old daughter would compose her own "25 Random Things About Me" note....

(1) Sometimes I pee my pants because I'm too lazy to go to the bathroom.

(2) Diapers make my butt look big.

(3) I smell like Play-Do.

(4) I once lived solely on mac-and-cheese for an entire month.

(5) The "Sound of Music" is the greatest film in the history of cinema. You really can't appreciate it unless you've watched it 50 times. In a row. Over the course of a single weekend.

(6) I'm easily distracted. I think it's primarily because...oh look, a birdy!

(7) The best thing about being four? You never have to pay for anything. Seriously, dude, I don't even own a wallet.

(8) The worst thing? Naps. 

(9) If I've learned one thing during my four years on this planet, it's that boys are freaking crazy.

(10) Then again, what the heck do I know? My best friend is a stuffed polar bear. 

(11) Vacuum cleaners and paper shredders scare the crap out of me.

(12) Don't tell anyone but I haven't bathed since last Tuesday. 

(13) I sing Christmas songs all year round.

(14) Things I do solely to freak out my daddy: eat dog food out of the bowl, watch Barney on TV, and pretend to lick the electrical outlet. Man, if you could see the look on his face. Priceless!

(15) I'm a Mac, not a PC.

(16) Give me a bottle of ketchup and I'll pretty much eat anything.

(17) I can cry on demand.

(18) Despite the fact that I'm a city girl, I really dig country music.

(19) I know it's derivatively inane but there's something about SpongeBob that cracks me up every single time. 

(20) My dad is waging a losing battle in the war against child-targeted marketing and mass consumerism. Yesterday I begged him to buy me Cinderella vitamins. He refused so we got into a huge argument at the pharmacy. Guess who won?

(21) I'm totally getting a pony for my 14th birthday.

(22) I get my big head from my dad. Seriously, you ever see the size of his noggin? It's ginormous.

(23) Hey Santa...if there's any chance you're reading this, I've been really good so far. Now it's time for you to hold up your end of the bargain. What happened last year? How come I got stiffed on the guitar and the skateboard?

(24) Is this list done yet? I can barely even count to twenty-five. What comes next? Twenty-eleven, right?

(25) I'm only four but I've changed career paths twenty times already. A year ago, I wanted to be a farmer. A month ago, I wanted to be a veterinarian. And a week ago, I wanted to be an actress. How do I know what I want to do with the rest of my life when I don't even know what I want for lunch?

Heck, what color is your sippy cup?

 

Show Me The Funny! (A Pre-Schooler's Guide to Stand-Up Comedy)

One of the best reasons for having kids is because they are an endless source of entertainment.

And because, like most Americans, I have the attention span of a gnat, I have a constant need to be entertained on a regular basis. Needless to say, times are tough for guys like me these days. Network television has entered the dreaded off-season. My beloved Knicks are utterly unwatchable. And the local multiplex is filled with ridiculously stupid movies about disobedient dogs, teen vampires, and detestable brides. Somebody fucking shoot me.

I therefore find myself spending a lot more quality time with my four-year-old daughter. And you know what? She is funny as shit.

Now I've spent a lot of time with some seriously funny people and there is nothing better than when they're in "the zone." Years ago, a buddy of mine and I had dinner with Jon Stewart and he had us laughing so hard that we were practically peeing in our pants. Another time, I was at a cocktail party and watched Jackie Mason hurl insults at people that were so funny that guests were practically lining up for the abuse. And, for the record, Jimmy Fallon is even funnier in person than he is on television.

Last night, the Peanut was in "the zone."

Earlier, we were eating ice cream together. Suddenly, my dreaded lactose intolerance kicks in and I tell her that I'm going to the bathroom. With both her cheeks filled with so much Ben & Jerry's ice cream that she looked like some sort of weird Asian chipmunk, the Peanut raises her head, gives me a thumbs-up sign, and yells out, "Go for it, dude. Good luck!"

When I come back from the bathroom, I find her strapped into her car seat with her underwear on her head and wearing her blue sunglasses. When I ask her what the hell she's doing and where she thinks she's going, she yells out "I'm going to AUSTRALIA!" She then starts singing The Fixx's "Saved By Zero" (Thanks, Toyota!)

I then lie down on the couch, close my eyes, and let her play in her little den by herself. However, every five minutes, I hear her talking to herself and I can't help but start laughing my ass off. Sample comments include "How come I can't open this freaking Play-Do?" "Holy cow, I'm a genius!" and "Hmm, I wonder if pink milk comes from pink cows."

While tears of laughter are streaming down my face, I suddenly realize that the Peanut doesn't find any of this half as hysterical as I do. The stuff that has me in stitches doesn't do a thing for her. Likewise, the things that make her cry with laughter usually make me roll my eyes and shake my head.

Therefore, ladies and gentlemen, I now give you The Pre-Schooler's Guide to Stand-Up Comedy. The following are all guaranteed to make your average pre-schooler pee their pants and fill their pull-ups.

1. Noun + "Head" = Funny

The phrase "poopy-head" is like a kid's version of the classic stand-up comedy routine, "The Aristocrats." Say "poopy-head" to anyone under 3' tall and you'll hear howls of laughter.

Like "The Aristocrats," the joke can be modified in many ways but will still be uproariously hilarious ("Banana head" and "Cookie Head" are popular variations these days.)

2. Visual Incongruities

Elephants in tutus. Flying pigs. Cows on rollerskates. Men in dresses. Show kids pictures of any of these and they'll laugh their asses off. I get how it's funny the first time. How the hell is it still funny the 812th time?

3. Mistaken Identity

My younger brother looks strikingly similar to me. Sure I'm taller, better-looking, and dress better but there's no denying the resemblance. Sometimes when my brother goes to visit the Peanut at daycare, a few of the kids will run up to her and say, "Your daddy's here!" The Peanut thinks this is one of the funniest things in the whole world.

Of course, this is coming from the same kid who, two years ago, would run up to every Asian man she saw and give them a big hug while yelling "Daddy"---even when I was standing right next to her and holding her hand!

Oy, the irony...

4. Insanely Stupid Knock-Knock Jokes

Ever hear a bunch of little kids tell knock-knock jokes? After 5 minutes, you'll want to bang your head against a wall.

Knock-knock. Who's there? Orange. Orange who? Banana!

Knock-knock. Who's there? Knock-knock. Who's there? Knock-knock!

Knock-knock. Who's there? Nobody's home!

Aaargh!

5. Parental Pain and Torture (aka Guantanamo Gallows Humor)

Sometimes I'll wake up because my daughter is squeezing my nose and is preventing air from entering my nostrils. Not really funny to me but hilarious to her.

A few months ago, I stubbed my toe and was hopping up and down on one foot while trying not to scream out a barrage of profanities. My daughter was laughing so hard, tears were streaming down her cheeks.

Yesterday, I totally spazzed out, slipped on some ice, went flying through the air, and hit my ass on the sidewalk so hard that I thought I may have permanently broken it. My daughter's response? "Do it again, Daddy!"

Real funny, kiddo!

You know what else is funny? TIME OUTS. Hah!

What do YOUR kids find funny?

By the way, I just found out that apparently Monday is something called Official Delurking Day, a day when readers of any blogs are encouraged to leave a comment on all the sites that they read. According to my buddy Chris, "The Official Delurking Day is back. Read the site? Comment. Comment all the time? Cool, do it again. A little shy? Come on, comment - you know you wanna. Take it to the streets - go comment all willy-nilly all over the blogosphere."

Normally I don't subscribe to the group-think mentality of the blogging community. I generally dislike ever telling people that they HAVE to do something. However, I do find it interesting to see how many people from all over the world read this site. So, while you're welcome to leave any comment you want, I thought it would be cool if you also told me where you lived.

Who knows? Maybe next time I'm in your town, I'll buy you a drink.

By Popular Demand: Underage Chinese Olympic Gymnast

Since Halloween in NYC is practically a week-long event, we decided that we'd dress Peanut up as an underage Chinese Olympic gymnast for this past weekend's neighborhood festivities.  In order to convince her to play her part, all we had to do was tell her that one of her several costumes this week was going to be "Princess Gymnastics." Naturally, the magic word there was "Princess." My four-year-old daughter is a total sucker for anything princess-related.

Needless to say, the Peanut's costume was a huge hit. On the back of her gymnastics outfit, we taped a fake birth certificate stating that she was really 16. However, even without the sign, most people figured out the costume right away and immediately started laughing their asses off. We can't even count how many people came up to us to say that hers was the funniest, most politically incorrect, and ironic costume they'd ever seen.

The only time we worried about possibly offending someone was when we ran into a group of Chinese tourists. As the fifteen of them passed the Peanut, BossLady and I tepidly held our breaths. At first, they seemed very serious and looked at the Peanut very closely. When she turned around and they saw her fake birth certificate for the first time, we were absolutely sure they were going to be offended. So imagine our surprise when they suddenly started laughing hysterically and asked, through their interpreter, whether they could take photos of her. Naturally, we let out a sigh of relief and obliged.

Parenting is hard work. We do it because we love our children more than anything and we want to raise them as best as we possibly can. That's why we endure the sleepless nights, the endless worry, and the relentless tantrums. But really, you've got to have a sense of humor about the whole thing.

Because until they're old enough to run out and buy you beer, being a comedy prop is one of the best things they've got going in their favor, right?

Happy Halloween!

It Takes a Village: Questions for Other Parents

How many times can a grown man watch "The Sound of Music" with his daughter before he completely loses his sanity?

What are the future ramifications if a young girl watches "The Sound of Music" 43,287 times between the ages of two and four? Will she want to move to Austria? Pursue a career in child services? Abandon a career in the nunnery?

Why do toddlers feel compelled to unravel an entire roll of toilet paper? Is the fun in watching it unroll or in watching your parents go completely bonkers?

Is baby perfume really necessary? Febreeze and scented baby wipes seem to work just fine for us.

If you are otherwise happy with your nanny, should it matter that her cellphone's ringtone is Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me?"

McDonalds Happy Meals: Ruthless case of aggressive fast-food marketing? Or greatest parenting tool ever?

If a little girl in the playground keeps pushing your adorable daughter to the ground, is it acceptable to give her an eating disorder? Or should I just confuse her by threatening to kick her in the nuts?

Is it wrong to feel completely smug and self-righteous when your kid is the only one not screaming and crying during the entire 5-hour plane ride?

Am I the only one who listens patiently to other people's boring parenting stories, waiting until they're done so I can tell my own boring parenting stories? 

By constantly telling kids to "use their words," are we raising the next generation of wussies?

Why would anyone let their pre-school son get a mohawk? Is life just not that interesting for him anymore? Is he rebelling? Against what? Vegetables?

Wait a second. High fructose corn syrup isn't just like corn? Uh-oh.

Why does everyone freak out about potty training? Do you have any adult friends who "just never quite got the hang of it?"

Anyone have any tips on how to get my toddler to take a bath? These nightly battles are driving me crazy. I'm thinking about throwing Happy Meals in the bathtub to entice her. It makes me feel like a lion tamer.

At what age do children learn to carry their own tissues and blow their own damn noses? I'm getting really sick of reaching into every single pair of my pants and pulling out a half-used snot-ridden emergency tissue.

Has anyone else gone into an important client meeting and taken out their laptop to do a PowerPoint presentation, only to find it covered with 50 Cinderella stickers?

Is it really possible for a human being to greatly enjoy a food but then one day decide never to eat it again? Or is that done solely to drive one's father insane?

What lasts longer? That fresh new baby smell or that fresh new car smell? I'm just wondering because my car still smells pretty good but my daughter's feet smell like vinegar.

Why do the worst tantrums always occur in the most public spaces with the most number of spectators?

The screaming and the whining. Does it EVER end?

Your answers to any of these questions are greatly appreciated. Feel free to add your own. Sometimes I think it really does take a village.

Long Live the Asian Leprechaun!!!

Thanks for sharing all your embarrassing childhood family stories.

Not only did I laugh my ass off reading all of them but I also now feel much better knowing I wasn't the only kid with a bowl haircut who grew up riding a girl's bicycle while wearing orange corduroys and eating a kimchi sandwich.

So many of you submitted so many great stories that had me both laughing and cringing at the same time: Crapping your pants in your dad's police car. Boys being dressed in their older sisters' hand-me-downs. Getting your hair cut by your mother in a style that can best be described as Romulan-meets-Caveman. Having your parents show naked pictures of you to all your friends. Watching in horror as your mother comes to your school dressed as a clown. Opening your lunch box in school only to find a giant pig's foot in it. And let's not forget all the shocking training bra stories!

The list goes on and on. It's a wonder that ANY of us ever survived our childhoods, isn't it?

However, as with any contest such as this, there can only be one winner. And like most of you, the clear winner for me was Stephen Joyce's traumatic tale of going to school on St. Patrick's Day dressed like a leprechaun:

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"Wow, this is like reading my life story. Like you, I try to play a bigger role in the raising of my two daughters and I sometimes wonder what kind of impact I'm having on their formative minds."

"Anyway, the story that always brings tears of laughter to my wife is the one of my very first St. Patrick's Day. My family moved from Malaysia to Canada in 1977 and it was my very first year at a public school. Since the tradition for St. Patrick's Day is to wear something green, my Mom thought it would be great if I went to school in an all green outfit, oh heck, how about a leprechaun outfit."

"Yep, that's right, my Mom sewed me a full on leprechaun outfit complete with a little hat and shoes, all made out of felt. Did I mention the green tights. Needless to say, there is nothing quite as hilarious to a group of second graders than a little Asian kid wearing green tights and walking around in the miserable March rains wearing green felt slippers. For added embarrassment, my second grade teacher ask me to stand on my chair so that all the kids could have a good look at my costume. Nice."

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All hail the Asian Leprechaun! Congrats, Stephen. With a story like that, you deserve a great prize. E-mail me your shipping address. You are now the proud winner of (1) a brand-new Phillips Senseo Single-Serve Coffee Pod System (2) a DVD of the hit comedy "Borat", and (3) an autographed poster of Mandy Moore.

Now, for some quick housecleaning...

(1) I've always hated the way that this site looks. Long-time readers may remember that the previous style of this site was even worse and was best described as looking like a pumpkin threw up on a pile of poo. As for this template, is it me or is it really hard to read? The font seems small and it's hard to read against a grey background, isn't it? What's your opinion? All I care about is the writing. How can I make this site as easy to read as possible?

(2) I also would love to have a new banner. However, if you haven't guessed already, I'm completely design illiterate when it comes to anything related to computers. That's why I'm coming to all of you for help. So many of you are so incredibly talented when it comes to this stuff. How about we have a contest? Design a banner that you think would be great for this site. I'll pick my favorites and put up the finalists for a vote.

The winner will receive (1) a brand-new Apple Shuffle, (2) a full ensemble of work-out/casual athletic clothing, and (3) a $50 American Express gift certificate.

E-mail me your entries over the next few weeks. Let's see what you've got! Feel free to pass the word along.

(3) If any of you are interested, here's a brief interview I did with the lovely Karen Cheng, Australia's version of Dooce, Design Sponge, and Smitten Kitchen all rolled up into one. Karen is an amazing blogger who apparently gets more traffic than google. Read her site and you'll quickly see why.

(3) One last thing...Valentine's Day is coming up. For those of you with kids, how the hell do you find a babysitter? And do you think it's true that nothing says "I love you" like a big-ass plasma television for the bedroom? Or is that kind of like the time Homer gave Marge a bowling ball for her birthday?

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"It's a Hard Knock Life"

Little Asian Orphan Annie and her dog, Sandy

I threw on the tux, put on a bald skull cap, and went as Daddy Warbucks while Peanut ran around singing "Tomorrow" at the top of her lungs. Non-stop hilarity ensued.

Best costume idea for a kid was my buddy "Tulse Luper" who dressed up his two-year-old curly-haired daughter as 1970's Bjorn Borg replete with Fila headband and junior Donnay racket.

What did you or your kids dress up as for Halloween this year?

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!

The Omen: Damien Lives In My Hood!

Three posts in one week!  I do believe that's an all-time record for this blog! 

Not because I don't have much to say but because, these days, I spend most of my free time trying to figure out whether my lovely daughter is schizophrenic or just exhibiting normal two-year-old behavior ("I love you! Come here! Gimme a donut! Go away! That's mine! I don't like you! Kiss me!  Get out!")

I'll save the details about the Peanut's bi-polarity for a future post.  Today, I'm writing because I have some incredible news to share with all of you good readers.  Not just any news but the kind of life-altering event that makes you look at the world from a whole new perspective.   Ready for it?

This week, I looked evil straight in the eye and I survived to tell the tale!

See...every day when I pick up the Peanut from daycare, the two of us love to sit on the stoop outside our building and wait for BossLady to come home.  While we wait, we play all these fun games together. 

For example, on our block, there's a deli with a window facing out on the street.  Peanut and I both think it's the acme of belly-aching hilarity when I throw her up in the air so that when the people inside the deli look out the window, all they see is a flying 2-year-old coming out of nowhere.  Every time I toss her up and she's suspended in mid-air, she waves at everyone inside and yells, "Hi!"

Another game we play is called, "Is THAT your mommy?"  We sit side by side and I point at random women and ask Peanut whether that's her mommy.

The other day, I pointed to a woman that we know from the neighborhood.  As soon as I asked Peanut, "Is that your mommy?", her 7-year-old son came running up to me and, in a truly demonic voice (at least 5 octaves lower than any normal pre-pubescent child,) screamed, "NO!  THAT'S MY MOMMMMMMY!" 

Then?  He reached across both my arms and scratched them so hard with his claws that he drew blood!

The little shit then runs back to his mother (who doesn't do a damn thing!) and turns to shoot me the most terrifyingly evil stare I've ever seen in my 38 years on this planet (and remember, I'm Korean.  Nobody on the planet gives death stares like Koreans.)  

I swear the look on this kid's face and the sheer hate spewing from his eyes sent shivers through my bones.  If evil has a face, I'm pretty sure this was it.  Three days later, I'm STILL having nightmares about it. 

Everyone in the neighborhood knows he's a weird kid with a lot of issues but it's only now that I'm realizing that he may truly be the Antichrist.  I've already sent out e-mails to all my neighbors advising them to keep a close eye on their pets and I plan on warning all the local priests as well. 

When I tell some of my friends this story, their normal response is, "Ha Ha, you're so funny, Pierre!  I'm sure the kid isn't THAT bad!  You're just exaggerating." 

Oh yeah?  Well then, how come the kid's best friend is a fucking hamster with a knife in its forehead?  How come his eyes glow red?  Why does he chop the heads off his stuffed animals?  Why is that whenever he's near me, I hear lightening and thunder?  And isn't that ever-present baseball cap on his head just there to cover up the horns?

Ok, so I made some of that shit up but am I really overreacting?  After all, Ted Bundy killed his first victim at the age of 14.  And everyone knows that kids are growing up faster these days, right? 

Have any of you ever met a kid that you felt sure was going to grow up and be a complete sociopath?  One who bore more than a faint resemblance to the Antichrist?

What should I do?  Check his head for the sign of the beast?  Look for horns?  Stock up on holy water?  Hang onion and garlic on my front door?  Buy everyone I love some Armor of God PJs?  Alert the authorities?   

Please help, dear readers!  I really love our neighborhood and I don't want to move because of young Satan!

Metropolitan Diary

Setting: A restaurant in downtown Manhattan.

Dramatis Personae: Twelve parents, all with children under the age of 3. 

As the delirium of a rare child-free evening is coupled with copious amounts of beer and sake, one of the aforementioned diners subconsciously begins humming the song "Elmo's World" underneath his breath.  Soon, the entire table is loudly singing along like a bunch of inebriated Christmas carolers.  Shortly thereafter, the group is raucously singing the theme song to "Wonder Pets."  John Mayer and Jessica Simpson are sitting nearby and abruptly leave, apparently disgusted by the lack of hipness being displayed at the adjoining table. 

We’re not too big
And we’re not too strong
But when we work together
We’ve got the right stuff

What's gonna work?
Teamwork!

For our next gathering, we plan on singing the theme song to "Bear in the Big Blue House" and "Dora the Explorer."  If things get really crazy, we might even do the dance-floor version of "Head, Shoulders, Knees & Toes (Knees & Toes!)

Hipster parents, indeed!

On a side note...remember when you were younger and you couldn't get that stupid song out of your head?  Maybe it was Hansen's "MmmBop" or "Macarena?"  Hell, I remember one time where I almost started hitting my head with a fucking hammer because I couldn't get "I'm a barbie girl, in a barbie woooorrrrllld!" out of my head.  Anyway, is it me or are those annoying songs that fill your head now all mostly kid's songs? 

Because right now, the only music in my head is that duet by Bert & Ernie, "What's the Name of That Song?"  All day long, I'm singing, "La di da di da, La di da di da." 

Send help!