Many people don’t like giving advice, but not me. I don’t like giving directions (the only person who has a worse sense of direction than me is Mr. Magoo) but I love giving advice. Especially when it’s unsolicited. Which, unfortunately, it’s not. Because I asked you to ask me questions.

Despite having no training or authority or expertise in any arena aside from Movie Pong and The Kevin Bacon Game, I think I’m pretty good at the advice game. I’m a good listener and have given some friends some pretty good objective advice in the past, helpful, thoughtful advice that has (presumably) improved their relationships and (obviously) elevated my status in their lives.

But that’s not what I do here, with my “Parental Advisories”. No, here I play God with other people’s families.

Come and join me!

Dear Dad and Buried,

My daughter is 19 months right now, but I really want her to grow up to like the sports teams that I like. How can I make that happen?

– Daniel

Dear Daniel,

What right do you have to influence your children’s interests? She is her own person, you tyrant, and she is free to appreciate the athleticism and superiority of teams like the Red Sox and the Dolphins if she so chooses! LEAVE HER BE! Unless she likes the Yankees and the Jets and Tim Tebow, then it is your duty as a father to disabuse her of these detrimental allegiances. DO WHATEVER IT TAKES. Put the eye clamps on her like A Clockwork Orange. Just get it done.

I wrote a piece a few months ago about my struggles with having to participate in and find enthusiasm for the things my son likes, even when I dislike them. It’s part of our job as parents, I think, so I’m trying. But as adults who have fully-formed lives and well-developed interests and passions, it’s also natural to want to sow compatibility in our children, for what is the point of having kids at all if it’s not in order to carry on our own legacies, legacies which include acceptance of “The Wire” as the best TV show of all time, and of Dan Marino as the best QB of all time, and of “Hit ’em Up” as the funniest song ever recorded. These messages must live on, and if sharing similar interests improve your relationship with your kids, well, I guess that’s good too.

As for transferring that stuff down to her? I honestly don’t think you have to do anything. Just be a good dad. Provided she’s young enough not to know any better (so, until she’s like 11? Unless she eats a lot of GMOs, then maybe six?), she’s gonna worship you and want to emulate you and spend time with you regardless. Just don’t force the issue, because even if that works now, it can breed resentment later. Instead, share the things you enjoy with her, and those happy interactions will plant a seed in her heart that will blossom into a lifelong bond over watching the Yankees lose, and soon she’ll psychologically equate every disastrous Dolphins’ season with the potential loss of your love and companionship, and soon enough she’ll be buying season tickets just to keep your bond alive.

Wow, this got kinda morbid. Sorry. Is it football season yet?

Take this under advisement, jerkweed,

Dad and Buried

Dear Dad and Buried,

My three-year-old son will not stop relieving himself in his underwear! If he runs around with shorts or bare bottom, he will use the toilet. Otherwise, he has no interest in the toilet. Daycare laws require underwear, so the option of just no underwear is out. Any advice?

– Pulling Out My Hair

Dear Pulling Out (sorry),

Fucking daycare laws! Next thing you know daycares will have their own constitution, start using LEGOs as currency and begin agitating for secession, handing out bumper stickers that say stuff like “Everything’s Sicker in Daycare” and “Don’t Tread on Pee” and generally being obnoxious as hell. As for your kid’s urination issues, I literally have NO IDEA what to suggest. The fact that it’s just when he’s wearing underwear is bizarre. But maybe let him wear boxer shorts? Do they even make boxer shorts for children? Or boxer briefs? How weird would it be to ask someone at Target if they have boxers or boxer briefs for toddlers? Did this just get gross? Or was it gross as soon as someone mentioned urination?

I’m guessing the boxer-short solution (BAND NAME!) is not what you’re looking for. But in my experience, if anything works with getting toddlers to break bad habits, it’s one of two things: fear, which is probably not the best tactic if you want to have a healthy relationship with your kid, or a healthy, well-adjusted kid in general; and bribery. We never used the M&M for every BM thing, but we’re thisclose to getting a rewards chart to stop my son from chewing on his lovey and get him to clean up his toys and etc. So maybe try something like that. Or else you can just lead a rebellion against the daycare.

VIVA NO UNDERPANTS!

Take this under advisement, jerkweed,

Dad and Buried

Dear Dad and Buried,

“Come to the coast. We’ll have a few laughs.” or something like that. It has been a while since I have seen the movie. So my question is how would John McClane handle being a parent to your child? Better or worse? Discuss…

– Keenan

Dear Keenan –

I can’t believe it took this long for someone to reference Die Hard in a question. So thank you for that, Keenan. But I hope you’re actually Keenan Ivory Wayans because if this question wasn’t a joke then I’m gonna git you, sucka! Haha, jk, totes for reals. But seriously, don’t fuck up Die Hard quotes. You’re embarrassing yourself. It’s called Google. No one needs to know, except maybe the NSA.

Now, let’s tackle your question, which essentially boils down to whether John McClane would be a better father than me… Well, given that we’ve seen none of his parenting (we don’t accept the 4th and 5th “John McClane is totally bald and a superhero” movies as legitimate entries into the series, so we’ve never seen him interact with his kids), it’s a tough one to answer.

Except it’s not tough at all because OF COURSE HE WOULD BE A BETTER FATHER THAN ME. Jesus. Have you read my blog? Hell, just scroll up to the last question. I told someone to buy his toddler boxer briefs. I can’t even put together a table, let alone kill 12 “terrorists” including a Huey Lewis lookalike and a candy-bar enthusiast and save a party full of people while forming an unlikely friendships with both a desk-bound, Twinkie-addicted police officer AND a young, limo-driving chatterbox who likes Run DMC and simultaneously reawakening my wife’s love for me ALL WHILE THERE’S GLASS IN MY FEET.

Then again… McClane hates technology. And this is 2014. If you can’t figure out how to launch Frozen on your iPad so you can shut your kid up while flying back to NYC with your reunited family then you’re in for a world of hurt.

Let’s call this one a draw, and also the proudest moment of my life.

Take this under advisement, jerkweed,

Dad and Buried

Thanks for playing! Please don’t sue me!

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