Category Archives: Girls

Hey Baby! You’re ugly, but you intrigue me. Let’s go back to my crib!

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It’s 4:30am. Do you know where your children are?

When I was in college, my buddies and I had a system for determining which women (we met in bars) were attractive and which ones were not. It was a very scientific, well-thought out method. Einstein would have been proud. The formula was as such: “Time of Night” times “Amount of Alcohol Consumed” divided by “Need for Companionship” equals “X”. (X) = Cuteness Factor. For example, a ”9:00pm -Oh, hell no!” could (with time, alcohol, and “need”) become a “12:00am – She’s cute.” I remember a few nights when friends took home girls who started as a “10:00pm – I think that’s a dude” but became a “1:30am – Her lazy eye and limp are sexy.” Luckily, when I was in a bar, I played by The Kenny Rogers’ Rule: You gonna know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em. I always felt that it was better to walk away early than to try and chew off my own arm the next morning to escape.

Now that I’m older, wiser, and a parent – I’ve been wondering if the “Cuteness Factor” can be applied to my own children.

Several nights ago, Garrett began to cry at 4:15am. Usually, I would chalk this up to a nightmare or maybe he got his foot stuck between the bars of the crib. I assumed that he would be fine given a few moments. But he wasn’t. He continued to cry…and cry…and cry…and cry. At 4:30, I went in to get him. I changed his diaper, checked to make sure that he was in one piece, and then I returned him to the crib. Once again, he began to cry…and cry…and cry. At that moment, the reality hit me that I had to stay up with him.

Together, we got a drink of milk, played with his toys, rough-housed, had a little more milk, watched television, sang songs, read a book, rough housed some more, and then I made him an early breakfast. As we sat on the sofa, I looked over at him to see if his “cuteness factor” warranted my lack of sleep. I looked at his giant head, his pudgy legs, his mop of curly hair, and the drool and snot that was rolling off of his face. He turned to look at me while I was staring at him. He smiled….and then, he burped and farted at the same time, looked very surprised, and then laughed out loud.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there!”

Yup – he’s “4:30am – Cute Enough for Me!”

‘Sup Shawty!

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Right now, there are six CDs in my car changer: 1) Mumford & Sons – Babel, 2) Project X – Soundtrack, 3) Maroon 5 – Overexposed, 4) Zack Brown Band – Caged, 5) Bruno Mars – Doo-Wops & Hooligans, and 6) Little Big Town – Tornado. As you can see, I like musical variety. I want Justin and Garrett to be exposed to as much great music as possible, but GWE and I were in complete agreement that (for the time being) I would not play Hip Hop or Rap while they are in the car. While I like it, I don’t want to have to explain some of the lyrics to Justin. The only Hip Hop album in my car right now is the soundtrack to “Project X.” Needless to say, I skip over Disc 2 whenever it comes up.

A few days ago, I was taking both kids to school and I needed to stop by the bank. I pulled in, left the car (and stereo AND AIR) on, and told Justin to watch his brother while I walked three feet away to use the ATM machine. Normally, this transaction only takes 30 seconds…but that morning, the ATM had a hard time reading my card. As I waited for the machine to read my card, I looked back to the car and saw Justin bobbing his head up and down like a metronome. A voice in the back of my head said, “I don’t remember him doing that before.” I assumed he found a song that he really liked. Sadly, I was right.

After almost two minutes of dealing with the ATM, I walked back to the car and heard a loud “thump, thump, thump, thump.” When I opened the door, I realized that Disc 1 had ended and Disc 2 (a disc he had not heard before) had begun. Justin was rhythmically moving his head to Pusha T’s “Trouble on my Mind.” I thought we were ok, until I heard:

Pardon my french, I’m going hard as my dick
When I envision my tip on the crust of bitch’s lips
Mr. Lipschutz has been trippin’ since I mentioned Reptar’s
Triceratops dinosaur dick

Once I heard “Triceratops dinosaur dick,” I thought it was time to go back to Maroon 5. As soon as I hit disc change, Justin yelled at me – “NNNNNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! DADDY, I LIKED THAT!!!! GO BACK!!!!” I told him that he was not ready for that music yet and that he was too young. He begged….he pleaded….and I am weak. I went back to Project X in hopes of finding something more appropriate.

“Ok, Justin. Let’s try song number 2.” I said. All of a sudden we heard AMG yell out “BITCH BETTA HAVE MY MONEY!” In an effort to make it stop, I hit the wrong button and fast forwarded the song to:

This dick of mine ain’t friendly baby.

Will it hurt you…yeah maybe.

Once again, I quickly pressed the change disc button. I couldn’t take it. “NNNNOOO!!!!!! DADDY, I LIKED THAT SONG TOOOOOOOOO!!!!” I let this go on for almost 4 minutes. (Once again, because I am weak.) Thankfully, I pulled up to his school and let Justin out before he could “pop a cap in my ass.”

I May Have Lost a Sister, But I’ve Gained Two Bergmans!

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This past weekend, we flew to Atlanta to celebrate my sister’s wedding. Shayna and her new husband, Jesse, had a beautiful, heartfelt, and joyous ceremony. At the reception, the music was fantastic, food was delicious, and the alcohol flowed….into my glass! It was truly an incredible evening.

As the older brother, it’s my sole job to make her life miserable and I had to get in one final shot before she morphed from “Priluck” to “Bergman” (much like when Dr. Jekyl turns into Mr.Hyde.) My speech is below:

November 3, 2012

Shayna and Jesse – Congratulations on such a wonderful event!

I know that Justin and Garrett would have liked to have been here this evening, but the truth is – our children are being held hostage back in the hotel room to ensure that I say nothing embarrassing about you or Jesse. But as I see it, you’re only getting married once and I can make more children – so let’s get to the good stuff!!

Here is what I’ve learned about Jesse and Shayna as this wedding and celebration have come together. I’ve learned that Jesse is so faithful to Shayna, that even during his bachelor party – there were no encounters with potentially naked women. None! However, I did see one pair of breasts. They were large and fake….and behind two feet of glass in a “Tribal” exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. We spent 45 minutes in the Butterfly enclosure and all I wanted was five minutes in the Champagne Room!!

And, Shayna (a vegetarian) is so dedicated to Jesse that she may allow him to eat meat (just once) in their apartment this year.   

Shayna and Jesse – we all see that you clearly love each other deeply and passionately. We knew it was only a matter of time for “Uncle Jesse” officially become “Uncle Jesse.” We knew that “Uncle Jesse” was going to become “Uncle Jesse” before “Uncle Jesse” knew he was going to become “Uncle Jesse.” 

Audra and I want you to remember every detail of this night. Spend time with your family and friends. Dance and drink and eat and enjoy this celebration….because marriage does not get better than this. No really, this moment is the best it will ever get. (Look at Watch) And….now that moment has passed. You will share wonderful moments and milestones together, but it will never be as good as tonight.

You may be asking yourself, “What about our anniversary? We’ll celebrate our anniversary each year.” Shayna….Jesse – every married couple in this room will agree with us when we tell you that your anniversary is not a celebration of your marriage, but rather – a thank you to your partner for not smothering you to death in the middle of the night with your own pillow. You will be giving each other gifts like the “I Apologize for Snoring this Year” bracelet of 2008 and the “I’m Sorry for Getting You Pregnant Again” earrings of 2011.

All joking aside, Audra and I love the both of you and know that you two belong together. Our hearts and our home are always open to you….and the “Auntie Shayna Bed” (now renamed the “Auntie Shayna/Uncle Jesse Bed”) is ready for whenever you visit. May you have a long, beautiful life together.

Looking for Mr. Goodbar (and Mr. Snickers and Ms. Skittles, etc.)

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I have determined that the sole reason to have children is so they can be our “Candy Minions” for Halloween. Time after time, we tell our children not to talk to strangers…and CERTAINLY not to take candy from them. But, for one night a year, not only do we send our children out to “Chase the Sugar Dragon” – but we MAKE them talk to strangers in order to get candy from them.

This year was the first year that Justin was able to do my bidding – well! I dressed him up, took him by the hand, and made him walk the cold, lonely neighborhood streets of Northridge, California. House after house, I made him knock on stranger’s doors asking for candy. We took note of who gave us handfuls of candy and who gave out just a few pieces. (God help those who ignored us this year! I’m a dad who buys my toilet paper at Costco. It’s 54 rolls of cheap, shitty paper that will hang in your trees for weeks! You have been warned!)

When Justin returned home with his bounty, I told him how proud I was of him. He managed to stay away from the Nekko Wafers, Butterscotch suckers, and anything with Coconut! He scored with “Squared” (not “Fun Sized”) Snickers and Milky Ways. He brought in bunches of Skittles, M&Ms (regular and peanut), Twix, Kit Kats, and more! I’m even fine with the package or two of Smarties that fell out of his bag.

My boy did good this year. Next year, we’re going to profile some other neighborhoods for bigger and better “Sugar Daddies (and Mommies).”

He’s No R. Kelly!

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While on the way to Justin’s first school chorus performance, Justin and I were immaturely joking around in the car. We…………….. (ahem)…ok, I was being immature and using potty humor with Justin – but he was laughing hysterically, so he instigated my behavior. He made me do it.

I asked Justin how he would feel if I ran up on stage, turned around, pulled down my pants and mooned the audience while he was singing. He giggled and giggled. I then asked him if I could run up, moon the audience, and then flap my butt cheeks. He laughed out loud. Finally, I asked if him if it would be ok if I ran up on stage in the middle of his performance, mooned the audience, and then started farting along with the music. He convulsed with laughter.

When he finally caught his breath, he said, “Daddy – you need to run up on stage, pull down your pants, and then pee pee on everyone.” Together, we howled at this sick potty humor. We had no intention of doing these things. We’re men and these things simply make us laugh.

What you should also know is that Justin and I have our own, non-verbal language. It started years ago with me pointing to my eye, then my head, then towards him, and finally pinching my nose. (“I think you stink.”) He sends me similar messages as well.

However, I was not prepared for how far Justin was about to take our potty humor from the car in combination with our non-verbal language this past Sunday morning moments before getting on stage with his classmates.

While standing in between two female classmates, Justin waved at me to get my attention. He then mimicked pulling down his pants, grabbed his “Little Justin”, and fake peed on those around him – all while smiling directly at me.

My first reaction was massively inappropriate – I fell over laughing. I tried to compose myself as I raced over to him (while still laughing). I told him that he could not do that…we would both get in trouble. He did it a second time just as my mother-in-law came over to wish him luck. I’m pretty sure I was in more trouble at that moment than he was. With her help, we successfully got him to stop just moments before going on stage. (While sitting at lunch a little later, I was able to explain to her what led up to Justin’s mime act.)

I’ve learned a very important lesson here (both personally and professionally) – my pep talks to the “talent” need to be a little less graphic!

Sherlock and The Case of Too Many Play Dates

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If you’ve been a follower of this blog, then you know about my friend “Sherlock.” Every dad has a “Sherlock” in his life. He’s the single, male friend who somehow manages to have (and happily tell you stories of) the debaucherous sex life that you were never able to have  – even when you were single!

A few days ago, I checked in with Sherlock to see if he had any interesting stories for me. He sent me a text he had recently received from a girl: “”I do want to see you, don’t think I don’t but lately I’ve been having crazy hours at work… Just know that this week won’t end without my lips tasting yours .” I told him that this was pretty pedestrian and I could get this from my wife. He needed to step it up!

Several days later, I got another text from him at 10:30 in the morning. He had partially redeemed himself. It seems as though he had a “guest” spend the night after an evening of poolside cocktails. At some point, she told him that she was “closed for maintenance,” however…um…how can I put is delicately….uhhhh….she informed him that she was happy to have him “plant his flag on the dark side of the moon.” (I really could not find a nicer way to say it. I’m sorry, but I tried.)

And, while that does earn him a (very dirty) gold star – it’s the next texts from him that I found impressive. He was still in the process of waking up from the previous night’s adventure and he was telling me about the lunch he was off to with his French lesbian friends who wanted to hook him up with their French straight girlfriends. And then the bastard sent me pictures….pictures I cannot share with you.

I’ll put this in a way only dads will understand: “He was getting ready to go to a play date to discuss future play dates while still on a play date!”