Okay so the title references one of my favorite books! I was wrestling with my one year old and handily winning I might add when he pulled out a knife like instrument and decided I needed to have some scarring. No this is not a picture of my butt scar again!
I am getting too old for this stuff. I’m gonna have three of these boys? I guess we have to teach them early on the family motto of “work hard play hard”! I just forgot about the part of the family motto, “when losing a fight….CHEAT”.
Busier than a one-eyed cat watching nine rat holes. At least that is what I have felt like over the last few days. I have been launching a new venture in my business, One By One Media, called Bloggers Fore Hire.
It has caused some stir in the business blogging community I have had links to it here, here, here and even here. To top all of that off I received an email from Glenn Reynolds referring a blogger to me. Instapundit? Emailing me? Of course I emailed him back and thanked him for the referral. I wonder if he had the same reaction. Wow! Genuine emailed me back? I think not.
I have been so busy in fact I have been awarded a special blog award and didn’t even know it! I don’t have words at the moment Don Goomba, but thanks for the honor!
UPDATE: My blog was also reviewed by another blog site! The hits just keep coming! Go over and check it out!
Sitting here in my office banging away at the keyboard while Mrs. G sits behind me wondering why she ever decided getting pregnant was a good idea, and our daughter comes in to the room.
Genuine Girl: Mommy, I wish your boobies were up here more.
Mrs. G: Me too!
Dontcha just love the work environment?
My son decided to involve Dad in a game of Frisbee.
“Okay”, I said as we headed out to the yard.
Now you must imagine that frisbee throwing and a 4 year old means someone is going to do a lot of running around catching an errant throw.
“I stand here Daddy, you go over dere”, he instructed.
“Are you ready?”, I asked, knowing full well he would not catch the perfectly thrown disc.
“Oops, good try buddy!”, I cringed as the disc bounced off his forehead.
Trying to anticipate the direction of his flung disc, I was on my toes. I anticipated right, the disc went left, and I was off to the races. Each time this scenario played out and each time my throw was right to the little guy while I looked like a tennis player chasing the ball from right to left along the baseline.
Now you have to also note that it is about 100 degrees outside and I’m like an old man crossing the desert. Then it becomes clear to me why he decided to stand where he did and why he told me to stand where I was. He stood under the shade of the tree!
“C’mon Daddeeeeeeeeee!!!! Why you not want to play no more?”
Apparently, only fathers know the intricacies of engineering principles that allow one to change the toilet paper roll when it has completed its usefulness.
I wish there was an easy answer for this guy!
I usually know the answer as she is shoving her tongue down my throat!
I was just wondering about the post-surgery procedures following the snip snip procedure. Is it really as bad as “here go fill this up”? Sure, I have seen all the the ways Hollywood has portrayed the humor, but I was thinking somewhat seriously as I imagined the possibilities.
Nurse: Genuine?
Genuine: Yes ma’am.
Nurse: Here is your cup.
Genuine: Thank you. (of course politeness is the only response)
Nurse: Down the hall to the left. When you’re done, place it on the shelf.
Then of course performance anxiety sets in. I can hear the clock behind her ticking. Mocking me. Ticking louder.
Genuine: Ummm ma’am? Is my wife allowed to come in with me?
Nurse: [Looking at me like the 10 year old kid my mind is making me feel.] Sure, I’ll go and get her.
Genuine: *heavy sigh* Ummmm, is there anything that should not be done, you know, something that might…um..er…skew the results?
Nurse: It’s not rocket science, please just fill the cup.
[A shot of the door. 4 minutes passes by.......Genuine exits the room, hair disheveled, shirt untucked.]
Genuine: Ummmmm ma’am. We have a little problem.
Nurse: What is it?
Genuine: We seem to have….um…contaminated the last….ummm…er…. Can we get a few more cups and some wine please?
The possibilities are obviously endless.
Now seriously, can somebody bring me up to speed? How does it really happen?
I think I have seen this with just about every one of my children.
“Why is it that when your child first starts to walk, they choose then to run down the driveway, downhill, on concrete?”
Somedays Sid and I are alot alike.
Manfred: Check for poop.
Sid: Why am I the poop-checker?
Manfred: Because returning the runt was your idea, because you’re small and insignificant, and because I’ll pummel you if you don’t.
[pause]
Sid: Why else?Manfred: NOW, SID
UPDATE: For Meeta
Sid: Doesn’t anybody love Shid the Shlof.
Lately my two children have been making me go through a ritual each night. I have taken on the role of Monster Slayer! Daddy runs upstairs to the children’s bedroom standing in the center of the room and shouting at the monsters under the bed and yelling at those trolls in the closet, banging the drawers and exorcising the demons that might reach out and harm the children. The Boogeyman and all run for the hills as Daddy thumps his chest and makes like a superhero.
My son looks up and says, “Thanks Daddy.” He truly believes that somehow I have rid the room of his fears.
My daughter looks up at me with a sheepish grin, “So if there were really monsters up there, where did they go? I didn’t hear them leave.”
I think perhaps it was her that made the monsters appear for the little guy in the first place. Ah, it was always nice to be the oldest and wisest sibling.
Paybacks are a bitch, and he is going to get her one day soon, and if not Daddy will help. I was the oldest after all.
