Enabling my Twitter fetish, one book at a time

Well, today is the day that "The Bigger Book of Parenting Tweets" goes on sale!

You can get your copy right here.

I managed to squeeze my way into the book by making some Tweets that were somehow deemed worthy of publicizing to more than my 5 followers on Twitter.

Like this one:

That said, you'll also find a shit-ton of other really funny people making their own Tweets about parenthood and why you'd probably be best to avoid becoming a parent if you're not one already.

Go get it.

Also, I already got paid for my input so I get no future royalties by asking you to buy the book. It's THAT funny.

I may need to restructure my contract for the next one.

And then there was this cameo...

Just going to pimp out a few of my friends over at The Science of Parenthood today.

They have a new book coming out THIS FRIDAY, April 17th, 2015:

I can tell you that, yes, I have read the book and, yes, it is hilarious.

However when I say I've 'read' it I mean 'I've read my Tweets in it' because I am one of the contributors to the book!

WOOT.

Honestly, the book is pretty awesome and hysterical. There are a TON of awesome comedians in it who have plenty to Tweet about in regards to parenting. Even if you're not a parent, you'll find this book seriously fucking hysterical. It's really pretty awesome.

I'll update the post with the link when it's available. In the meantime, go find Science of Parenthood here:

The Science of Parenthood web site

Twitter

Facebook

Tell them I sent you and you will receive absolutely no special treatment.

This is what I get for not asking them for star treatment.

Orthodontia and the Fish Incident

My daughter has braces and, therefore, must go monthly to her orthodontist which my ex-wife and I are keeping happily employed and driving a Mercedes.

In the Ortho office is a fish tank. It's pretty huge and divides the waiting area and the dental area - so you can see through from one side to the other. Like this:

My daughter was called into the office, leaving my son and I puttering around in the waiting room with all the other people going broke because of orthodontia.

That's when we noticed a girl at the fish tank. She was holding a handle to something against the glass, and it became clear to us that it was a tank cleaner. On the opposite side of the glass was a brush. The two pieces were connected via what appeared to be a pretty strong magnet, allowing the brush on the inside of the tank to be moved by the handle on the outside.

I could see my son salivating, waiting to try it.

Eventually, the girl was taken by the orthodontist as payment for her older sister's headgear, and my son immediately went to the fish tank to start playing with the magnet cleaner thingy.

Back and forth. Up and down. Side to side.

It was pretty cool. What was even cooler was that he discovered that if he moved the handle AWAY from the tank, the brush inside would just float to the bottom and stand up in the gravel. As it was weighed down. He could then put the magnet back to the glass and it would - WHOOMP - reconnect.

Then he flipped the handle upside down.

Flipping the handle upside down caused the polarity on the magnets inside and outside to repel. So he soon began playing with shooting the inside brush away from the side of the tank, and quickly flipping it to rejoin them.

That's about the time he flipped the handle near the top of the tank, propelling the internal brush out towards the middle.

He fumbled with the handle as the brush inside the tank floated away and down, it's weight carrying it away and towards the bottom of the tank when..

WHUMP.

It got wedged between two pieces of coral. Right in the middle of the tank. And not just wedged there, like, WEDGED there.

My son pushed the handle to the glass. The brush inside barely wiggled.

He looked at me.

I shook my head.

He tried again.

*wiggle*

Again. Again again AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN.

*wiggle*

At this point he had now started trying to rock the thing out between the coral like a car stuck in a rut. Back and forth back and forth. He moved the handle wildly around the surface of the glass when all of a sudden he stopped.

Everyone: his sister, doctor, two other patients and assistants were standing on the other side of the tank, just...

..watching him.

Frozen, still holding the magnetic handle, I could see his expression of 'oh, shit' as he stared at a sea of blank faces just wondering what in the Hell is this kid doing? Like a ten-minute mime project gone horribly horribly wrong.

Then, he looked at me...

...put the handle down very slowly, tip toed over to me like no one could see him any longer...

..sat down, and grabbed a magazine.

I died. I laughed so hard, I cried.

I don't know how much that ortho appointment cost me, but it was worth every penny.

Yogurtgeist

shika-shika

Huh?

I heard the sound, like a tiny little maraca, but ignored it and continued driving.

shika

shika-shika-shika

WTF.

I was alone in my car, driving to work, and kept hearing the noise. I had no idea what it was and had never heard it before.

Keep in mind that if my car makes ANY kind of noise that's out of the ordinary, I'm like a hound dog trying to figure out what it is and where the Hell it's coming from. Like that time I heard a squeak from the passenger side and immediately pulled over to open/close/pull/shake and slam everything within arm's reach trying to figure out what was making the noise.

Anal: thy name is Rodney.

shika-shika

GODDAMIT WHERE IS THAT COMING FROM?!

My eyes scanned the passenger side of the car for anything that could be making that noise. Nothing. Nothing there. I assumed that my daughter probably put something in the car door pocket just to purposely make me insane because that's what children do.

That's when I pulled into my work parking lot, stopped, and this caught my eye as it rolled out from under the passenger seat:

The Hell?

I picked it up.

Um.

Hm.

A yogurt.

A yogurt with Oreo cookie crumbles had rolled out from under the passenger seat. It was the little Oreo cookie bits that were making the shika-shika sound so I guess that explains everything except WHERE DID THIS COME FROM?!?!

You see, I don't eat yogurt.

My kids don't eat yogurt.

As such, I don't BUY yogurt.

EVER.

There is no logical explanation for how this particular yogurt got into my car and had taken refuge under the front seat before the laws of physics caused it to reveal itself when I stopped. There could only be one logical explanation:

Poltergeist.

A yogurt-loving poltergeist had stashed this under my seat.

Thank God this thing is a lease.

Now if we could only find a network....

My son is like me.

This is not a good thing.

He loves to draw and his sense of humor is way better than mine will ever be.

Put those two together and, well, you get stuff like this.

He came up with an idea for a game show and drew it on his notepad:

"So, um...do you like sports?"

Genius.

That Flinstone Kid is a Little Shit

Was pouring cereal the other morning when I noticed this.

I'm just saying that I'd kill my kid if he ever pulled this crap.

Cereal. EVERYWHERE.

Even prehistoric boys were little bastards.

In his defense, it's KIND OF like a banana

I was at my girlfriend's house taking a shower.

That, in and of itself, is trickier than you think because when said girlfriend has a 7 and 4 year-old, the shower basically resembles a toy store that has exploded and plastic cups have somehow found the ability to reproduce.

If you think stepping on a Lego in bare feet is bad, try stepping on "Shower Time Dora" with soap in your eyes. NO ES DIVERTIDO.

So I exited the shower, opened the closet, blindly reached in and grabbed a towel.

I dried my face and wrapped it around my waist.

The ends barely reached each other behind me, so I looked down to see this staring back at me:

Yes.

I had somehow managed to grab her 4-year old's Gorilla-hood towel and unwittingly had strategically placed said gorilla hood directly over my junk so now it basically looked like I was being fellated by a primate.

Man, if I had a nickel.

This is why we can't have nice things

Walked out of my shower one night to find that my lovely daughter had taken my childhood ventriloquist doll (don't ask) and sat it on my kitchen counter.

In it's hand, was this note:

It did, what?

Oh.

Awesome.

Me: "WHY?!"

Daughter: "He did poopies."

He did. Delicious, chocolately, childhood-ventriloquist-doll poopies.

Hey. Chocolate is chocolate. Doesn't matter how it got there.

My trip to the Science Museum.

I took my kids to the Boston Museum of Science where things are pretty awesome unless, of course, you took them last year and the Pompeii Exhibit isn't there any more.

Then it's just pretty boring.

So as we were wandering around we ventured into the computer/robotics section..where I noticed this on a giant screen:

 

So I grabbed the available paper on the counter that they gave us to answer the questionnaire and answered as so:

What do you use your computer for?
Porn

How did you do that before you had a computer?
Magazines I found in the woods and a vivid imagination after watching "The Benny Hill Show."

(Try asking your parents)
I'd honestly rather not ask my mom this.

Seriously, science. Don't ask me things you really don't want to know the answers to.

Proud Ninja Dad

About 6 years ago, my son and I embarked on an adventure of taking Kenpo Karate classes together.

He was about 4 at the time, and I was just around 40-ish and probably still had some hair that didn't want to just give up and leap off my skull.

This is us at a karate tournament in 2009 where we cleaned frigging house and brought home a total of 6 trophies:

All this hard work and dedication culminated when, on June 1, 2013, we participated in a test for our First Degree Black Belt.

The test consisted of:

1) 7-1/2 hours of nearly non-stop activity
2) 70% of said 7-1/2 hours spent outside in 94-degree heat
3) Doing all kinds of crazy things like forms, and combination moves and pushups on the side of a 2-lane highway while being HOSED DOWN with water at full blast resulting in our gis weighing 10 pounds.
4) Carrying logs across a field. Yes. LOGS ACROSS A FIELD.
5) Being stepped on by our teachers who were also carrying said logs
6) 4 billion pushups, jumping jacks and ab crunches and these things where you jump up and then go into a pushup and then jump back up and, you know, OUCH.
7) Getting yelled at A LOT.
8) Sparring with our 6th-degree Shihan who also happens to be an MMA fighter and all-around badass.
9) Several mystery bruises, charlie horses, a few arm-bars and a near-miss with a stick to the eye

In the end, though, me - a 44-year old father-of-two - and my son - a soon-to-be-10 year old with a sense of humor much better than mine, ended up like this:

So awesome.

You can kind of see that our names are embroidered on our Black Belts which blend in with our black gis so if you squint you can imagine the coolness of it.

I don't think I've ever been prouder of him to endure the physical and mental punishment of that day - let alone almost 6 years - and pull this out.

Again. Awesome.

And here he is, front and center with the rest of our group:

Congrats to everyone on the test, and for those currently on their way.

Me? I'm just going to stand here and be a proud father.

Proud NINJA father, that is.

Hiya.

The Rain of the Goose

Have you ever thought how awesome it would be if - during certain moments of our lives - that our brains could take pictures that we could print out and save for later?

Just me?

Figures.

Regardless, the following is one of those times.

I was coaching my son's soccer practice when the most amazing thing happened.

My son's ball ended up being kicked WAY over to the left side of the field. My guess is that it was kicked by one of the kids on Prozac that I have the honor of trying to herd on a bi-weekly basis.

To the right of the soccer field, and unbeknownst to us..

..was a GINORMOUS flock of geese.

Like this:

As my son started running over to get his ball, a noise erupted that I can best describe as rush hour in Los Angeles and everyone's horn is stuck.

As I turned towards the noise, I saw 50 large Canadian geese rise from the grass.

I know they were Canadian because they left poutine everywhere and were complaining about the price of cigarettes.

They immediately formed and began flying away in the direction of the left side of the field...

..where my son was running to get his ball.

THIS? This is where I wish my mind could take a picture.

I watched in horror as the army of geese flew over my son, his back turned and unaware of the armada of flying beasts above him...

..and they began pooping.

"CAM! COVER YOUR HEAD!"

He swears he did not hear me say this and I probably didn't because I was dying laughing, because this is what I was looking at the best I can illustrate it:

It was like Armageddon but instead of brimstone and fire it was goose shit.

EVERYWHERE.

I could hear him screaming under my hysterical laughter as he tried to dodge the aerial bombardment cascading around him as he tried to reach his soccer ball.

And then they were gone.

My son returned, somehow unscathed and laughing himself. After 5 minutes of trying to compose myself, we continued playing.

On another field, of course.

So much goose shit.

This is why children should not have iPhones

Insight to just one of the many texts I get from my beautiful daughter:

Technology can be terrible.

Maybe my kindergarten was a little different

So I was at a wedding recently because people who get married think it's a great idea to 'share their day' and 'make people watch' and 'be bored' and 'OH MY GOD THEY HAVE OPEN BAR SO FORGET I SAID ANYTHING.'

Open bar is always an exception to ANYTHING.

During the ceremony, one of our friends got up and read quoted from the book, "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten."

Of course, as she's reading them I'm thinking:

"This is such bullshit."

Sharing?

Play nice?

Be aware of wonder?

ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

So I started thinking about why MY list would be if I wrote about everything I learned in kindergarten:

1) If you beg like a monkey with a thermos cup on your head, people will give you their Cheetos.

2) There is no such thing as self-respect in kindergarten (see #1).

3) Never trust anyone named 'Craig.'

4) Paste tastes like shit.

5) White glue tastes worse than paste.

6) Kindergarten teachers apparently let you eat all their art supplies.

7) Even at the age of 5, you can pretty much tell who is going to end up in prison someday.

8) If a girl hates you then it means she likes you.

9) If a girl likes you then you should pretend to hate her.

10) If a girl likes you but you don't like her and you tell her then she will make up lies about you and write things like 'YOU ARE POOP' on your desk IN PEN.

11) There is no such thing as 'too many pencils' because they all disappear at some point.

12) If you put a tack on the chair of an authority figure, they will NOT be happy.

13) There actually IS such a thing as a free lunch. But it smells terrible, tastes worse and people will judge you if they see you getting one.

14) You can show people your new toys that you think are really cool and impressive but deep down no one gives a shit.

Man.

I wish I could have spoken at the wedding.

My house is weird

When you have two kids who are crazy practical jokers (stay tuned for "Book 2"), AND they have a father who also likes to pull his own share of pranks, none of what happens in my house should actually surprise me any more.

Take, for instance, when I came out of the shower one evening and found my childhood ventriloquist doll, Mortimer, sitting on my kitchen counter with this in his lap.

At which point, I look around the BACK of my doll sitting on the counter and..

..well..

Nice.

Then I ate the Hershey kisses because ventriloquist poopie or not, chocolate is chocolate.

That shouldn't surprise anyone, either.

My daughter could write lyrics to Def Leppard songs.

Ever since my daughter hit the age of 12, she's been filled with pre-teen angst and attitude and OMG I WISH I'D SAVED THE RECEIPT FOR HER BECAUSE I'M CONSIDERING A REFUND.

Lately she gives me more attitude than laughs, but every so often she comes up with something awesome.

The two of us were in Best Buy and she decided to look at the iPAD Mini which was right next to the iPAD Maxi and iPAD 3/4 Mid-Mini and iPAD Microscopic.

Less is more, Apple. Less is more.

She's been trying to learn to type and opened up "Notes" on the iPad and started typing away. It wasn't til after she was done that I noticed what she wrote:

"Hinga Dinga Dinga Durgan"

Of course I said it out loud. Trust me, if you say it out loud you can't help but sound like the Swedish Chef from the Muppets.

You just tried it, didn't you? Of course you did.

IT IS SO MUCH FUN.

The rest of the day we talked like the Swedish Chef and always - always - inserted 'Hinga Dinga Dinga Durgan' into the sentence and friggin laughed together like we hadn't in a loooooong time.

I guess I'll keep her.

April 1st is like Christmas for my daughter except with less presents and more TP

I had my kids on April 1st which is highly regarded by my daughter because she loves pulling pranks.

It's almost annoying.

So, when she found out that my son and I were skipping karate that night she immediately burst into tears.

Me: "What's wrong?!"

Daughter: "I had so many things planned! I was planning ALL DAY!! This is terrible!!"

So, being the good dad that I am, I took my son out with me for an hour or so, resulting in this Tweet:

Then we came home.

And do I know my daughter, or what?

Because THIS? THIS is what greeted me as I pulled into the driveway:

Awesome.

My daughter used an entire roll of toilet paper on MY HOUSE and then hung my clothes outside.

Then we went inside where I found this little ditty hanging from my bedroom ceiling fan:

That is my childhood ventriloquist doll, Mortimer (DON'T JUDGE ME), whom my daughter has somehow made even creepier.

This also greeted me in my lunch:

She's lucky I like her.

Of course, she also tried putting plastic wrap over the toilet but left 36 wrinkles in it (which led me to show her how to PROPERLY do it so I will only have myself to blame NEXT YEAR when I piss all over it).

So, payback being a bitch, I found a piece of my dog's toy that he had ripped off because that's what he does and deftly placed it in her bag of chips, so this is what she would see at snack time at school when she opened her bag:

Prompting this text from her around 10 am the next morning:


BAM.

Now I sit in the corner of my room in fetal position waiting for her payback of my payback.

She's way better at this than I am.

The Forgotten Folder

Before I start today:

My Book Trailer is currently in a book trailer contest. I would GREATLY appreciate your vote and spreading the word!!

Go here and vote for #5: Things Go Wrong for Me

Thank you!!

ONWARD!
****************************

At our karate dojo, my son and I each have a manilla folder that our sensei uses to keep us updated on events and tests and tournaments and stuff.

So, my son and I were in class one evening in late March, when I looked at him:

Me: "Hey. When's the last time you checked your folder?"

He looks at me, shrugs, then walks over to where the folders are kept, opens his...

..and pulls out THIS:



Son: "It's been a while."

The Cheese and Cracker Incident

Just in case you were wondering why I was divorced I present you THIS text conversation between my ex-wife and I.

I posted it on my Facebook page and women were completely siding with my ex on this one but, just in case you missed it, ENJOY:


I sent my son with the store-brand crackers because I didn't feel like asking if that was okay.

Plus I saved some money that I spent on the pre-sliced cheese.

WIN.

To Elijah Wood - a birthday wish on behalf of your biggest fan, my little girl

My daughter is a little obsessed.

And by 'a little' I mean 'crazy-go-nuts.'

Ever since I introduced my 12-year old girl to "The Lord of the Rings" series, she's been..well..

..a little creepy about her celebrity crush:

Elijah Wood.

Like, just short of Gollum, creepy.

I Tweeted this to Elijah a while ago, asking if he could just Tweet a 'hi' back but never heard from him:

I'm not sure what age stalking starts at, but if it's 12 then he should probably start the restraining order paperwork soon.

It probably doesn't help that she realized that I - as a young stud muffin myself - was pretty much Frodo's stunt double even before Elijah was born.

My curse to bear. Much like that damn ring.

Regardless, she told me that Elijah's birthday was January 28th and then wrote this letter to him which I am desperately trying to figure out how to get to him because I'm her dad and shit like this is what dad's do. Even if it's creepy.

"

"Elijah Wood,

Hello Elijah, my name is Payton. I am a 12 year old girl living with a divorced family life and a great life as well.

I wanted to write you this note to wish you a happy birthday. I'm a huge fan of you that I wanted to basically do something nice for your birthday.

You are my favorite celebrity in the world. I especially love your character, Frodo, in Lord of the Rings. He is so brave and courageous. That movie made a big impact on my life. The movie trilogy taught me that even the smallest person can change the course of the future.

That's all I have to say. I just wanted to wish you a very happy birthday. If you have the chance, can you please write a little note saying hello. Thank you. Bye.

From,
Payton Lacroix"
 
And she drew him this as well to help him celebrate:

My kids are amazing.

I hope you see this, Elijah.

But, if you don't, know that there's a little girl in New Hampshire who absolutely adores you and wishes you a happy birthday.

From,

Her dad.

The Front Lawn Chupacabra

Salem, New Hampshire: hotspot for unknown creature sightings since I decided to make up this statistic.

I was out walking my dog the other morning when I happened to noticed this in the snow in my front yard:

I know it's a little hard to see because it wasn't really light out yet and I don't have a Smartphone because I'm wicked cheap.

But there were these footprints in my front yard in the snow and..

..THEY WEREN'T NORMAL.

You can maybe get some scale as to them with my house in the background but maybe this will help:

OMG hitting that house with the water balloon was hilarious but mainly because we were SO SHITFACED.

Anyway, so - yeah - these footprints are not ONLY 8 feet apart but also IN SINGLE FILE and obviously NOT made from anything with 4 legs.

Here. Maybe this will give it some better scale:

Honestly, I can't explain why there would be a set of male genatalia strolling through my yard but since they're next to a set of human footprints I can only assume that Lorena Bobbitt is up to her old tricks again.

So later that night my kids and I were outside in the front yard in the freezing cold looking for meteors when I remembered about the footprints.

Me: "OH. Guys. Check THIS OUT."

I showed them the prints. Not the penis prints. I didn't feel like getting into that conversation with a 9 and 12 year old.

The other prints.

Son: "What is it?"

Me: "I don't know. But look how far apart they are."

Then I jumped from print to print. Barely. I'm so goddamn short I can't stand it sometimes.

Me: "I'm guessing it's a chupacabra."

Daughter: "What's a chupacabra?"

Me: "It's a mythical creature of Latin America. It's like a giant lizard thing on two feet or something..huge teeth..scales."

Son: "Really?"

Me: "Really."

Then I paused again.

Me: "OH. LOOK."

Daughter: "What?"

Let me stop here and tell you that my daughter has had this habit of playing practical jokes on me lately. Most of which I'll probably outline in my second book, "OH MY GOD STOP PLAYING PRACTICAL JOKES ON ME."

So I pointed to the trail of prints.

Me: "Honey. It looks like it's going right up to your window."

She didn't sleep well that night.

Probably because I showed her this artist's rendering just before bed:

That'll do, dad.

That'll do.

On a side note, they're still too young to see the one I did of the Abominable Penis tromping through the snow.

Equally as scary.