Another installment of the ongoing adventures in the lexicon wonderland of Little Dude Vinton.
This morning I woke up to Little Dude tapping me on the leg:
“Papa, I need you to wake up and play cars and airplanes and Star Wars with me. I’m taking the day off from school.“
Like most …
From the minute Little Sis traded umbilical for boob, she’s been… opinionated.
Don’t like being out of the womb? Cry for 8 months straight.
Don’t like Little Dude snuggling up? Slap his face.
Don’t want that water? Chuck it.
Don’t like your personal space being violated with a smooch from Mama or Papa? Shove ‘em.
Want that knife on the …
Leftovers are what happens when when Monday is uninspiring.
Still, Little Dude’s 2008 B-boy moves looped to “Sandstorm”? Always inspiring. Then again, I’m his Papa.
Figures Luck would be a Lady considering my luck with ladies, on par with my luck with luck, was always crap. Not crap in the sense of odor-imposed celibacy; I never had a problem dating or meeting girls*, it’s just that dating and meeting girls inevitably ended with me as their springboard.
That’s kind of expected …
Tampons. Other than being the mule who suffers the man-slapping indignity of plunking down variety-pack boxes of purse bait on random grocery runs, I don’t know the first thing about them. Which probably explains my “you can’t buy your own?” attitude and why I’ve been subliminally duped with tampon commercials and their romantic, sterile display …
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Weston_Oliver
Bingham 1.18.11
Youngblood_1.22.11
Another installment of the ongoing adventures in the lexicon wonderland of Little Dude Vinton.
Little Dude’s a nuclear clock. Put him to bed at 7:30 pm, he’s awake at 8 AM. Put him to bed at 11 PM, he’s awake at 8 AM. Apparently, all that consistency caught up with him Thursday morning.
“Hey, Mama. …
Ah, the crossroads of life. That pivotal moment where simple decisions alter the course of personal history. There’s no less than 236 of them being made in this picture right here.
Thanks, this guy.
When did Saint Patrick’s Day become the new Easter?
What happened to a good ol’ St. Patrick’s Day of fear and anxiety- a day kids had to wear green or face bruises from some maple-syrup scented, pinch-happy, booger muncher named Rory? When did Ireland’s eco-terror celebration of serpentine holocaust morph from wake up, wear green, eat …
Complacency aside, life has two approaches:
A) Be a reactive, passive-aggressive, victim establishment jerk.
B) Be a proactive, “take-your-lemons-and-make-a-savory-pizza-without-lemons” not-jerk.
Inspired by real-life parental paranoia and this hard hitting expose at CNN.com:
Example A: The Jerk
Example B: The Not-Jerk
Not-Jerk wins.
