Tag Archives: toddler

My ApologizesTo Black History Month

9 Mar

The 6 year old, a very cute white 6 year old mind you, brings home her school work.

All smiles.

Proud Daddy leafs through it…some math…did pretty good…come on….6-2….easy! You shouldn’t have missed this! Your writing is getting better…got to work on those e’s…still making them backwards honey…this isn’t Ancient  Greece…hey, what’s this?

Nice pink cover to celebrate Black History Month. Plus we added a flower and a butterfly...good touch.

Nice pink cover to celebrate Black History Month. Plus we added a flower and a butterfly…good touch.

I realize it’s March, but we are just getting ths home.

Side Note: In the era that my Mother grew up in, she caught the tail end of segregation. She was a history teacher and I remember one of the stories she would tell her class was about the day she used the black drinking foutain because the line was shorter and it shocked all the park goers that day. My Mom always mentioned it was just one water pipe that came from the ground and split into two, so it made no sense to wait forever for the white side when the black side was the same exact water. But to everyone else at that time, it was a big no no.

Cut to my generation: It was drilled into our heads that all men are created equal. Funny thing was, I never experienced any segregation so as a child I’m thinking: “Ok, gotcha! So what if someone has different colored skin. I”ll be Han Solo and you be Lando Calrissian and let’s save the galaxy!” Segregation was still going on, just not as blatant, in your face, as my Mom experienced. We all drank from the same water fountain, but pay, jobs, and schooling were the hidden elephants in the room.

For my children: There is still the KKK, and there is still racism. But for the most part, I believe that is still old school thinking past from generations of families that just don’t know any better. My kids never say, “This is my black friend John.” It’s just, “This is my friend, John.”

I get that I’m a white guy saying this, and I have no experience being black. I can’t talk about childbirth or driving a race car as first hand experiences either, only as observations.

So with all of that randomly being said, when I looked at my youngest daughter’s Black History coloring sheets and saw this:

Joseph Winters here inented the fire escape ladder apparently. And was the whitest black man, next to Michael Jackson that I have ever seen.

Joseph Winters here invented the fire escape ladder apparently. And thanks to my child’s interpretation, Joseph was the whitest black man, next to Michael Jackson that I have ever seen.

Sarah Breedlove Walker, whom I don't think is a natural blond, invented the straightening comb.

Sarah Breedlove Walker, whom I don’t think is a natural blond, invented the straightening comb.

George Washington Carver, who kind of looks like Sam the Butcher from Brady Bunch, invented the peanut or something like that.

George Washington Carver, who kind of looks like Sam the Butcher from Brady Bunch, invented the peanut or something like that.

I thought they got rid of the Flesh colored crayon….

Me: Why did you color them white?

The Child: I didn’t know they were supposed to be black

Me: But it says Black History on the cover.

The Child: I didn’t know that

Me: So why did you color this guy brown?

The hair matches the suit!

The hair matches the suit!

The Child: Because he invented a brown machine that makes shoes.

Me: Makes perfect sense.

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Randoms Pt 14

13 Jul

Toddler: Daddy I can count in Spanish! Uno, dos, tres, groucho, cinco!

—–

Why do some frozen dinners put the instructions on the bottom the box? I always forget what the second step is supposed to be, like waiting the first three minutes for the thing to cook took way too long for my brain to retain the less than complicated three step process.

Except for the stirring.

The second step always involves stirring.

You pop open the cardboard lid, stir whatever half-lump, half-soup food substance is in there, and then…

what?

How long was I suppose to finish cooking this?

Don’t remember.

I actually think standing too close to the microwave killed my brain cells over the years.

Because sometimes I stand at the microwave with my head pressed against the door screaming, “Why does thirty seconds take so long?”

Then of course I pop open the door before the last five seconds are up anyway…kind of makes you feel like your working for the bomb squad.

(10, 9, 8, 7, 6….cut the blue wire!)

Now, because the instructions are on the bottom of the box, you have to raise the thing over your head, like a frozen dinner umbrella.

One slip of the hand, and you could be wearing a scalding mashed potato hat.

I’m not even happy with the ones that put the instructions on the side, mostly because in order to find them, you always have to flip the box around 4 times. It’s never the first side you look at.

Put the instructions on the lid frozen dinner manufacturers.

—–

The Gumshoe

4 Jul

That’s right, I’m what you call a dick, a gumshoe, a hawkshaw. You can also call me a private eye, or a private investigator. Maybe you prefer the terms; shamus, sherlock, operative, or PI. Whatever you call me, it doesn’t matter…I’m here to do a job.

A dirty, gritty, thankless job.

Some days, I’m called to the crime.

Some days, the crime finds me.

This was one of those days.

I entered my bedroom…I forget why…maybe to fold laundry…maybe to watch TV…

I can’t recall.

I walked around to the other side of my bed, a nice queen size thing. Wife wants a king size…I forget why…maybe for more room…maybe to add another person…

I can’t recall.

And then I saw it.

It was the most horrific crime scene I had ever witness in my 14 plus years on the force.

I do not know who committed this atrocity in what was suppose to be my sanctuary, my fortress of solitude, my humble abode with the vintage collection of Playboys and one Big Jugs magazine tucked between the mattresses…

If you have a weak stomach, you may not want to proceed. These crime scene photos can be rough to civilians.

The scene of the crime

That’s right, someone had viciously killed Doodle Bop Teddy Bear and his long time girl friend Topless Mermaid.

But why? That was the question. That was a statement. This is a noun: Bear.

Stop it! Focus!

Sorry, my brilliant detective mind sometimes wonders.

I had to break this crime scene down.

Look at the clues.

Luckily I have seen murder before, but that didn’t stop my stomach from doing flip flops. I had never seen murder like this…this…brutal before. Could it be because this was actually done in my house…or the fact that I had seen these toys many times before…

First step, to examine the scene in great detail. The answer to the crime is in the details.

The first thing I notice is that Topless Mermaid is…well…topless.

No, you don’t need glasses. This photo is slightly blurry for your protection.

Actually, it was no big deal to see Topless Mermaid topless. She often was…ok…always was. I remember when I first met her she had some sort of flimsy bikini top on, but it wasn’t long until she earned her nickname. As a matter of fact, now that I think about it, most of the dolls in this town go topless. I guess you get use to it after awhile.

This is a close up of Doodle Bop Teddy Bear.

Doodle Bop Teddy Bear I hadn’t seen in awhile. He once ruled the streets, but people got tried of his crime boss ways and that stupid blue banner he always carried. This could have been done by anyone. I did notice a very important clue underneath Doodle Bop Teddy Bear:

A Hello Kitty Skin magazine.

That’s right. Hello Kitty, a once family friendly little girl’s icon with no mouth, now turned porn starlet…just to put food on the table for her family. Just goes to show you how fickle the general public really is…one day you’re a star…the next your displaying your nipple-less boobs for all the world to see. Not that I have ever looked at her publications, I’m just guessing she has no nipples based on the whole no mouth thing.

It really didn’t add up though. Why would Doodle Bop Teddy Bear even need with a cheap rag like Hello Kitty puts out when he has Topless Mermaid as a girlfriend…think about it…she is always topless!

I don’t get it. Back to the clues.

A pair of pink plastic sunglasses. Not much to go on here, unless you have a plastic prescription for death. (That sounded a lot more noir in my head.)

A designer plastic Tinkerbell flashlight. Only the richest gangsters used Tinkerbell flashlights. It showed the power Doodle Bop Teddy Bear wielded in the underground world. Why didn’t the murder take this?

A plastic cupcake!

The plastic cupcake, the root of all of Doodle Bop Teddy Bear’s power. Doodle bought, sold, and bartered these religiously, and was the head of the whole plastic cupcake empire. You could not buy or sell a plastic cupcake without going through Doodle Bop Teddy Bear’s goons first. Now we were getting somewhere.

Now we have motive.

All of the sudden, I heard laughing behind me. I realized the murder was still in the room. I was so busy looking at the clues, that I forgot to sweep the room first, make sure it was clear of evil doers.

A rookie’s mistake.

I also realized I didn’t have my gun.

I did have a gun app on my phone that simulated gun noises. I slowly pulled out my phone, and quickly…well slowly…typed in the unlock code, then I opened the menu, scrolled down to the app, waited for it to load, scrolled through the gun choices, and settled on a P38 Walter.

“What are you doing?” came a matter-of-factly inquisitive voice behind me.

The mastermind’s behind the crime!

It was The Toddler and her trusty side kick Kansas The-Dog-Whom-My-Wife-Says-Doesn’t-Pee-On-Carpet-But-It-Does-Pee-On-The-Carpet.

It-Does!

I should have know! The new head of the plastic cupcake syndicate was standing…well sitting and cuddling that damn dog…right before me!

“Daddy, what are you doing?” she asked again. “I want a Popsicle.”

“Um, sure. Just don’t take me out like you did Doodle Bop Teddy Bear, and I will give you anything you want!” I replied.

Toddler laughs and squeals, “Daddy, your silly! Popsicle! Yellow one!”

And I got her a Popsicle for fear of my life.

The case?

I buried to protect everyone in the house and to keep myself from sleeping with the fishes. (The filter is broken on the fish tank and is really loud, but on another note the couch is pretty comfortable.)

The End?

*Epilogue*

Kansas peed on the carpet.

Me Vs. The Doll

5 Jun

The Toddler has these dolls that she constantly needs help dressing and undressing.

First off, these dolls are kind of scary.

They are based on old 1950’s horror monsters like Dracula, The Mummy, A Zombie, and Donald Trump…but they are suppose to be High School Teens.

This one’s name is Draculaura.

She needs help with the clothes because…

The doll is manufactured by Satan himself.

Evidence #1: They are based on horror creatures that use to give me nightmares as a kid. Every Saturday night we would sneak downstairs after the parents went to bed and watch the Late, Late, Horror Movie Double Feature on Channel 10. They featured all the classic 1950’s monsters.

And they scared us. Now, they are a toddler’s toy.

How times have changed.

I guess there are scarier things in the world today.

Evidence #2: Really small sleeves, really big hands, and fingers spread far apart.

I submit Exhibit B, in support of the small sleeves, big hands, spread fingers claim.

It takes nearly a better part of the day to try to remove the shirt of this doll…pretty much like trying to remove the shirt of a real woman.

Halfway there after 5 hours of struggling.

6 beers bought for the doll and 5 more hours later, I finally have her shirt off to reveal that she is a B cup.

Now unbeknownst to me, the Toddler doesn’t actually have a change of clothes for the doll. The doll apparently only owns one shirt.

So guess what?

THE TODDLER WANTS THE DAMN SHIRT BACK ON!

I just spent 10 hours getting the shirt off!

But  in my frustration and rage, while trying to get the shirt back on, something happened.

The hand popped off.

That’s right folks, just pop those hands right off.  The shirt no problem now. I can now put it on and take it off easily, quickly, and stress free.

Hands free!

Take that Satan’s doll maker!

Doll 2

Dad 1

Hey! That’s from my private collection! Who put that in here?

“You didn’t tell there was a party going on in here!”
“There is always room for you chick with odd colored skin”
“You look uncomfortable. Pop off those hands so we can take that dress off.”

[Just crossed the line enough….to not get Freshly Pressed. 😉 ]

Zombie At The Door

13 Mar

The toddler was the first to find it. She is just three, but smart as a whip, she is. What she was doing at the front screen door, I don’t know. Hopefully not heading her happy little-diaper-wearing butt out into the great blue yonder. She actually might deserve a spanking if it wasn’t so traumatic of a situation as it is.

Anyway, the toddler comes tearing into the living room, screaming and crying.

“What’s wrong pumpkin?” I ask, figuring one of her older brothers broke another one of her toys.

She can barely speak, “There…there…is somefin’…at door!”

She points towards the front door. Sure enough, it looks like someone is lying at the bottom of the door.

“Who is that?” I ask out loud to myself mostly.

The toddler whispers, “Zombie!”

I bolt out of my chair and grab the shotgun from over the mantle.

“Zombie?” I ask the little one. “Are you sure?”

She nods and burys her face in my trouser leg. I gently unhook her and set her on the couch.

“Don’t move from this spot…and cover your ears in case I have to fire this gun,” I tell her and smile. The smile was meant to comfort her, but I know it was thin and forced.

I slowly make my way to the front screen door. The zombie is lying against the door with it’s back facing me. It’s not moving.

I raise the shotgun up, shoulder level, as I get near the door. It’s just lying there, looking like it’s taking a nap. I take the tip of the gun and poke it in the back through the screen. It doesn’t move. I poke it a little harder.

Nothing.

“Hey!” I shout and raise the shotgun up at the same time.

Still nothing. I beginning to believe this zombie is dead. (Ha, ha. The dead is dead!)

I poke it real hard in the back this time, tearing the screen a little.

You guessed it. Nothing happens, so I go to the back door, passing the toddler sitting on the couch with her hands over her ears. Such a good child. I open the back door and whip around to the front of the house.

As I approach the front porch, I slow down and precede with caution. I raise the shotgun as I climb the three porch steps. The zombie lays there, still not moving.

I slowly walk up on the zombie. Flies buzz it’s deformed face. It’s whole body is slack. It just lays there not moving, eyes closed, mouth open, tongue laying half on the porch, half in it’s mouth.

“Weird,” I say out loud to no one in particular. “Who would deposit a dead zombie at my screen door?”

Then I hear the groaning behind me. Lots of groaning behind me. I turn around to see about 10 or 15 zombies approaching my front porch. Then it dawns on me who left this zombie on my front porch…like bait…to draw me out of the house…alone…

…to be eaten…

…while the toddler sits on the couch, covering her ears….

Toddler Watches Star Wars In A Tree

1 Mar

Me: How was school today?

Toddler: We watched Star Wars in a tree at school.

Me: *blank stare*

Wife: Really? Star Wars in a tree?

Toddler: Yup. And then the teacher took us all to McDonald’s for lunch.

Wife: Really? How did everyone get there?

Toddler: In the Teacher’s car.

Wife: All 20 of you got in the Teacher’s car and went to McDonald’s?

Toddler: Yes, and we played on the playground and ate peanuts. I ate french fries and I played and it was so, so, so much fun.

Me: What did you really do at school today?

Toddler: I forget.

Me: I want to watch Star Wars in a tree.

Toddler’s Friend Moves Away

31 Jan

Toddler: Daddy guess what? Daddy guess what? Daddy guess what?
Me: What?!
Toddler: My friend doesn’t go to my school anymore…
Me: Why? Did she move?
Toddler: She moved to Puerto Rico.
Me: Oh.
Toddler: Daddy, if we move does Kansas (our dog) have to stay here?
Me: No Kansas will move with us.

*pause*

Toddler: Can we get a hotel?
Me: When we go on vacation. We don’t need one when we are not on vacation.
Toddler: (very fast) I know. And we will have to live in a hotel. And Kansas would live with us. But there will be no kids to play with so we will have to move back home. What is Puerto Rico?
Me: A country…an island.
Toddler: Like Ireland!
Me: (Laughing.) Yes, just like Ireland.
Toddler: I want a donut.

The Grape Painting Bunny

25 Jan

Toddler: Why are some grapes green and some grapes red?

Wife: I don’t know. That’s just the way they are made.

Toddler: But why? Why are some red and some green?

Wife: No one knows. Different things are different colors. You know Strawberries are red and plums are purple.

Toddler: But what makes them green?

Me: Tiny paint bunnies come and paint the grapes red and green.

(Silence.)

Toddler: We shouldn’t eat paint.

Wife: Good job Chris.

Randoms Pt 7

1 Dec

Toddler: Rafael went to the centipedes
Wife: The where?
Toddler: The centipedes.
Wife: Where?
Toddler: The centipedes, it where his grandma lives!
Wife: Oh, the Philippines.
Toddler:That’s what I said!

I can be such an ass sometimes!

Relationship Analogy:

Funny is to Girlfriend as Unfunny is to Wife

or

Funny is to Unfunny as Girlfriend is to Wife

I can’t decide which one I like better.

———————————————————————————

I think the Batman villains need an update. The Riddler, The Penguin, and Mr Freeze were good for the 50’s, but today I think they should be more relevant.Here are a few of my suggestions:

The Multi-Tasker – Able to successfully organize multiple crimes and maintain a household at the same time. 

The Facebook Status Hijacker – Will take over your Facebook and posts things like: “I’m gay!” or for gay people: “I’m straight!”

Identity-Theft Man – Mostly buys those “As Seen On TV” products with your credit cards. Sells them on EBay. Batman once found his credit card statement to be filled with camouflaged snuggies and miracle potato peelers. 

The X (The Ex) – Scorned by lovers everywhere, she’ll date you, even marry you. Then she will dump you and make your life a living hell. 

Randoms Pt 4

5 Oct

Teenager2: Toddler, sing the alphabet.
Toddler: (sings the alphabet)
Teenager2: Toddler, that was really good!
Tween: I wasn’t feeling you. It was a little pitchy dawg.
Toddler: Oh, man!

———————————————————————–

I think I’m getting old. I don’t recognize half the bands that appear on Saturday Night Live anymore.

————————————————————-

Why do they make buildings with two doors side by side, but they always lock one of them?

And why do I always try to open the locked one.

If we have to lock one of the doors, I think by law it should be the same side that is always locked whether it be the right side or the left side…don’t care just make it the same side dammit! (That way I know which door handle to pull!)

When I get rich I’m going to build a building that has like a hundred doors surrounding the bottom floor and they are all going to be locked except for one…and everyday it’s going to be a different one. The building will only be for architects that design buildings with double doors.

————————————————————————-

When I reread that blurb above, I couldn’t help reading it in Andy Rooney’s voice. Try it.

Speaking of Andy Rooney, I heard he is retiring. I never watched him on TV, but I know who he is through other people’s impersonations of him. That my friend, is the true measure of fame.

——————————————————————-

Friend: If you could only bring 5 CDs on a deserted island, which 5 would they be?

Me: I wouldn’t bring any albums, I would bring a raft.

Friend: You can’t bring a raft. That’s not an option. You can only bring CDs.

Me: So your saying that I know I’m going to be stranded on a deserted island and my only thought would be to grab 5 of my most favorite CDs?

Friend: Yes, yes! It’s a hypothetical thing…you know, if you only had 5 CDs to listen to for the rest of your life, what would your choices be?

Me: Why didn’t you come right out and ask me directly, which five CDs would you listen to for the rest of your life?

Friend: I don’t know…it’s more fun this way.

Me: Who says I would be stranded on the island the rest of my life? I could escape!

Friend: Yes, sure, fine. You know what, I don’t care anymore.

Me: No, no…let me see…I would bring…Hey, how am I going to play the CDs anyway? Is there going to be electricity on the island, and a sweet sound system?

Friend: I said I don’t care. You ruined it.

Me: If there is electricity for me to play my CDs, then I would probably bring my Google phone which has all my music on it…but I won’t listen to any of it, I would call someone to get me off the island.

Friend: You suck.

Me: Wait…Ok. I would bring Pink Floyd’s The Wall…um….

Friend: See, was that so hard?

Me: And my phone.

Friend: You still suck.

Me: But I’m off the island!