17 Apr

Dad and Buried Posted in Advice 4 comments

The Guide to Hungover Parenting

Last night, we had our neighbors over for a few drinks. Somewhere between my third and fourth beer, I forgot that I have a kid and a job and am thirty-eight, so I had three or four more beers. Now I want to die.

Thankfully, today is Friday, so I’m at work instead of sitting at home trying to occupy a four-year-old who wants me to pretend to be a firetruck-slash-dinosaur and get on my knees and chase him around the house all while holding my head and trying not to throw up.

Hungover parenting is not a lot of fun.

22 Jan

Dad and Buried Posted in Learning 3 comments

Touch and No

I’m not a gamer. I never have gamed. And neither has my son.

There’s no Playstation in my house, no Xbox, no Wii. My son’s exposure to video games has been limited to the handful of times we’ve stumbled across an old arcade machine and I’ve tried to teach him how to play Pac-Man. He hasn’t been all that into it. (Probably because he’s TERRIBLE. You have to AVOID the ghosts, genius!)

But if his interest in the gaming devices his cousins were playing over the holidays was any indication, that’s about to change. Which means I’m going to have to shell out for a system.

Or am I? I recently got a new piece of hardware that is saving my ass. And my wallet. For now.

Saturday Afternoon Lights

I used to live in Boston. I went to school there and loved it, so I stuck around for another 10 years or so. When I eventually left, I lost access to the city’s vibrant sports scene, and my ability to brainwash Detective Munch into rooting for some of my favorite teams.

Except not really, because this is 2014. It hasn’t exactly been hard to follow the Red Sox this century, no matter where you live, and it’s easy enough to find a way to watch your favorite NFL team, even if they play their games halfway across the country. But when your favorite college team isn’t exactly a national powerhouse, things can get a little dicey.

Luckily, we have the internet.

29 Jul

Dad and Buried Posted in Blogging 4 comments

Moms are Overrated

For the third week this month, Mom and Buried is traveling and I’m on my own with my kid.

DON’T PANIC. We’re okay.

Sure, maybe the first time my wife went away I was all: what am I gonna do? But several weeks in and now I’m all: ain’t no thing but a chicken wing on a string. I’m a real-life dad, not a Seth Macfarlane character; I can handle it. Newsflash: it’s parenting, not the Thunderdome, and dads can do it just as well as moms.

I’d even venture to say we do it better.

Fathers and Gums

If you’ve read my blog before, you might not expect me to write a post about my favorite moments as a father. (Even though I already have.)

After all, most of my posts are about the stuff that sucks about being a dad. But that’s all strategy. Like the Cassius Clay of the dad bloggersphere, I lull readers to sleep with angry complaints about my son and parenting and toddlers, only to suddenly sting like a sentimental bee!

Admit it: the optimistic, sappy stuff carries a lot more weight when it comes from a pessimistic, cynical jerk like me. So I parcel it out at key moments, to ambush you and your tear ducts. Usually I reserve the sap for my son’s birthday, like this embarrassment from a few years back. But as Father’s Day approaches, my friends at Oral-B and Life of Dad asked me to write something about the #PowerofDad, so I thought I’d grit my teeth (get it? Teeth? ORAL-B!) and get ‘er done.

So here comes a bunch of crap I like about being a dad. None of which includes brushing my son’s teeth because holy Jesus that’s a nightmare.

Dad and Buried

Category: Technology

The Guide to Hungover Parenting

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Touch and No

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Saturday Afternoon Lights

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Moms are Overrated

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Fathers and Gums

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