13 Ways Parenting is Like Going to an Amusement Park

13 Ways Parenting is Like Going to an Amusement Park

Everyone knows that living with a toddler isn’t all fun and games. In fact, I’ve spent a fair amount of time whining about the fact that it’s NO fun and games.

Today I’m going to let you in on a little secret: it’s SOME fun and games.

A lot of it is stressful and loud and crowded and dirty, but the good parts make it all worth it. So, no: living with a toddler is NOT like being in prison (except when it is). It’s actually more like going to an amusement park.

Allow me to explain…

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Threenage Wasteland

Threenage Wasteland

By now, everyone knows the “terrible twos” are a myth.

Okay, maybe not a myth, because I’m sure they suck for many parents, but for many other parents, like Yours Truly, it’s year number three that proves to be far more harrowing.

Mom and Buried and I are now halfway through this “threenage wasteland” and we can’t wait for it to end.

Which, presumably, will be when he turns four, right? Unless there’s already some clever phrase for our son to live up to for that year, like the FOUR-ror Show.

Or maybe something better. Shut up.

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“The (Baby) Weight”

“The (Baby) Weight”

As a youngster, I used to enjoy writing “Weird Al”-style song parodies. I wrote one that changed the title of one of my favorite Saturday morning cartoons to “Muppet Rabies”. I told a story about a classmate who appeared on “Teen Jeopardy” by re-purposing the tune of Rush’s “Tom Sawyer”. At a friend’s request, I once wrote something bashing Derek Jeter and jammed it inside an Eminem song.

As I grew older, I occasionally found a new outlet for this supreme waste of time.

A few years ago, I helped my wife alter some lyrics to the song “Razzle Dazzle” so she could perform it at her company’s talent show (don’t ask). And just last year I whipped up a “Paradise City” parody that referenced Pope Benedict’s abrupt retirement and posted it on Twitter. It’s been retweeted 1,314 times and is easily my most popular tweet, even though I’ve written several about potty training.

I just can’t seem to stop writing the stupid parodies, and yet I’ve never written one about my son (unless you include the one where I sing his name to the tune of the “CHiPs” theme song). Until now. I apologize in advance for wasting your time.

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