Like Charlie Sheen in Platoon, I'm a dad who actually volunteered for this. Now I just shut up and take the pain. My wife is like a sexy Keith David, catching that last helicopter out to work every day, leaving me in the chopper dust of two warring mini-sergeants, Bub and the Priestess, fighting for possession of my soul. And that makes you grandma. Consider this blog my letters home to you. It really helps if you've seen the movie.
Friday, November 22, 2013
Sound Bites From the Week (OM NOM OM NOM NOM)
Daddy said if I smile, I get candy. Don't judge me, judgers.
“Mommy? We’re gonna leave the
doors open so anyone else can go through okay?”
“By doors do you mean my legs,
“Yes. Open your legs, Mommy!”
“Can I touch my privates, Daddy?”
“Because I just want to.”
“No you’re not, Mommy.”
“Um, yes I am.”
“Ohhhhh…why don’t you just go to
“My privates are so soft, Daddy.
Did you know that? My privates are SOOOOOOO SOFT!”
Bub: “HP, that’s IT for you. That’s
it because you didn’t listen to me.”
“Daddy, can I whack myself? I
WHACKED it, Daddy! Did I whack it? I don’t THINK so!”
“Why do you want to see my poop?
Make your own poop.”
“I just wanna see YOUR poop.”
“LET ME SEE YOUR POOP, DADDY!”
HP: “Eat. Eeeeeeeat.
(Perhaps she was hungry)
“Do you see my balls here, Daddy?”
“I sure do.”
“This is my BALLBAG, Daddy. Do
you like my ballbag? It’s nice, isn’t it? I said, it’s NICE, Daddy. Isn’t it?”
(I’m not too up on my
Shakespeare; perhaps it’s from one of the comedies.)
Mommy, do you want to play with crayons?
Mommy, the crayons are out. THE CRAYONS ARE OUT, MOMMY! Ohh, let’s see if she’s
out. Let’s see if Mommy’s out. Let’s see if she’s just unloaded. (moves to
kitchen, whispering now) Mommy is not ready for crayons. Mommy is out of here.
Mommy is OUT of the lead! Mommy is unloaded.