Cousin Wonderland

Cousin Wonderland

I don’t have a cousin family.

This isn’t to say I don’t have cousins, but they are older and live far away, and I’ve never had much of a relationship with any of them. It never bothered me much until I went to school in Boston, where seemingly everyone is best friends with their cousins, and I felt like I’d missed out.

My sons won’t have this problem. My brother just had a baby, and my wife’s side of the family has been pumping out kids for years. We spent this past weekend with a few of them at Dutch Wonderland in Pennsylvania, and my boys loved every minute of it.

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Mr. Invincible

Mr. Invincible

I’m not saying I’m a hero (I do replace the toilet paper a fair amount), but I do have some heroic qualities. All parents do.

Parenting requires superpowers. The same way emergencies case adrenaline to kick in and unlock heretofore unknown abilities when one is in danger, parenting reveals unknown reserves of strength, stamina, and, as my 7-year-old points out, invincibility.

He didn’t actually say that – he didn’t say anything, really, he just yelled “You’re the worst, I wish you weren’t my father!” but I survived that, and just a few minutes later, we were snuggling on the couch, watching a movie together.

So yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m invincible.

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Taco Blight

Taco Blight

Kids are walking disasters.

This is nothing new. There’s nothing that they can’t/won’t/already have destroy(ed). Every parent already knows this. And we also know that it’s our job to protect them from themselves, as difficult as they can sometimes be, because we know better.

But just because we know better doesn’t always mean that we do better, which is why Mom and Buried and I keep insisting on having taco nights despite the fact that the aftermath looks like the front row of a Gallagher concert.

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Foolproof Food

Foolproof Food

Disclosure: I have partnered with Life of Dad and Barilla for this promotion. All words, opinions, and praise for how good the recipe is belong to me.

Much more embarrassing disclosure: I can’t cook.

But my kids need to eat, and take-out gets expensive. During back to school season, our days get pretty hectic, and sometimes when Mom and Buried is prepping school lunches or helping with homework, I get dinner duty. As I said, I’m no chef, so I need something simple and quick that I can’t screw up.

Unfortunately, my wife informed me long ago that two packets of Ramen noodles is not an acceptable meal option for children. But pasta is!

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Thanks, Maybe

Thanks, Maybe

The other day, after Mom and Buried mentioned something about Father’s Day to Detective Munch, he responded by complaining about the fact that there isn’t a “kid’s day.”

Have you stopped laughing?

A child asking why there isn’t a kids’ day is like a white dude chanting “ALL LIVES MATTER” or a Meninist existing.

EVERY DAY IS KID’S DAY, JUNIOR.

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