I Hate Pregnancy Announcements

I Hate Pregnancy Announcements

I hate pregnancy announcements, and not just the ones with the terrifying 3-D sonograms.

I’m a reasonable guy. I like to get noticed as much as the next person who has a blog and a Facebook page and a Twitter account. Believe me, I know how strong the pull of social media is; I struggle with it every day.

Luckily, when it comes to Dad and Buried-related stuff, I have a bit of an out: I write in character and I keep my D&B accounts mostly separate from my personal ones. But even there I don’t broadcast every moment of my life. Case in point, my non-D&B Facebook wall is almost entirely links to the Onion.

Which is where you’d expect to find some of the outlandish pregnancy announcements that have been all over the internet lately.

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Cultural Differences or Child Abuse?

Cultural Differences or Child Abuse?

I wouldn’t expect you to understand. If you’re not from here, it must seem alien to you.

Around these parts we do things differently, and if you’re not born and raised in this culture, you’re probably never going to get it. We eat different foods, we use different slang, we wear different clothes, and yes, we discipline our children differently.

So I can’t condemn Adrian Peterson for what he did. It’s a part of his culture.

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The Snuggle is Real

The Snuggle is Real

As you’ve probably figured out by now, I primarily use this blog to vent, to crack jokes, to scratch my creativity itch, and as an outlet for sarcasm. But when all is said and done, these posts will ultimately add up to one long journal. It will serve as a collection of memories from my son’s early life and a scrapbook of moments from my life as a parent, many of which might otherwise be forgotten in my son’s sprint through childhood.

I swear, he outgrows something new every day, and sometimes I just want him to slow down. He’s not going to, of course, which reminds me: Detective Munch turns four today!

This is probably the last blog you expect to get sappy – at least I hope it is. But if you’ve been paying attention, you might know that my son’s birthday is just about the only time a year I allow myself to go a little soft.

Starting today, I’m going to give you an opportunity to go soft with me. Wow, that sounds really gross.

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