‘Sup Shawty!

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.”

“Limos, Demos, and Bimbos”

Ice Cube once wrote a song about how good it was to ride in a limo with his “female friends” and how they “hit the sunroof and contemplate all the freaks they can run through.” Whenever I think of limousines, I think of one of two things: 1) Prom night with drunk girls half-naked in a limo, or 2) Rappers in a music video….with drunk girls half-naked in a limo. What I NEVER thought I would witness was my six month old and my five year old chillin’ in a limo on the way to the airport.

On a recent trip to Atlanta, Greatest Wife Ever and I contemplated how to get two adults, two children, luggage, carry-ons, toys, and a stroller into one car. Realizing that this was impossible, we discussed taking two cars to The Parking Spot (a local parking structure) instead. However, after further financial analysis, we realized – it was going to be pretty damn expensive to keep two cars stored for 5 days! All of a sudden, one of us (can’t remember who) had the genius idea of hiring a van to take us to the airport. What a fantastic idea?!?! Lots of space in a van, no parking hassle, and neither of us had to drive. GWE called a service, set it up, and I never thought twice about it.

On the day of the flight, the driver called and notified us that he had arrived. Justin and I stepped outside first to meet him. We were greeted by a shiny, black, stretched limo. Justin’s eyes got wide and he whispered to himself, “coooool.” As it turns out, their SUV was not available – but their “Get-You-Pregnant-On-Prom-Night” Limo was!

My first task was to figure out how to strap in an infant’s car seat. I guarantee I am the first person in history to attempt this. Limos are not meant for infant carriers. I got “creative” with the seatbelt, but I’m fairly certain that any unexpected braking would have caused Garrett and his carrier to go tumbling down the aisle of the limo like they were the rock boulder in the beginning of “Indiana Jones.” Next, I loaded three pieces of luggage, two carry–ons, and a stroller. Finally, I buckled Justin into his seat and GWE and I settled in.

Justin could not contain his excitement during the ride. With a distance of 5 ½ feet between us and GWE in the middle, Justin and I pretended to do magic tricks for each other. Then, we “yelled” all the way down the car to one another. And finally, we pretended to shoot guns at each other. As we pulled up to the airport, Justin unstrapped himself and began to do the “Shaking Butt Dance” out of happiness! He then ran down the aisle and pounced on us.

I hope Justin and Garrett enjoyed their limo ride. I’m just afraid that we’re setting the bar at an unreachable level. What’s next for them?

I’m putting my foot down. No private jets until they are old enough to wipe their own asses!!