09
Sep
The Worst Kids Ever
Despite all my whining, I love my son. He’s a pain, but he’s my pain.
It’s other people’s sons – and daughters – that are the problem.
08
Sep
Size Doesn’t Matter
I know what you’re thinking: why hasn’t Dad and Buried written about his son’s penis?
Well, you’re in luck!
02
Sep
Choosing a Baby Name
Choosing a name for your kid is never easy. Especially the second time around.
When things are purely hypothetical, it’s a cakewalk. It’s when the timeline starts shrinking that the panic sets in.
Mom and Buried and I had a little trouble the first time, and things haven’t gotten any easier as we approach the third trimester with our second son. In fact, they’ve gotten much harder. Not only do we have to agree again, the name has to fit with the first kid!
If we have a third (NO CHANCE IN HELL), one of us might lose a limb.
02
Sep
Gender Identification
Now that the cat’s out of the bag about the impending new addition to the Buried family, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty: gender identification.
When we realized Mom and Buried was pregnant, we started speculating about what it would be. My wife wanted a girl for a variety of reasons, some that were general (a girl to bond with!), some that were personal (she grew up with, and loves having, sisters), some that weren’t big priorities (variety!). I know, a mom wants a little girl? This is not surprising to people.
What may be a surprise is that I wanted a girl too!
Will we get one? You’ll have to come to my house for a slice of color-coded cake to find out!
31
Aug
The Five People to Blame for Your Dad Bod
The “dad bod” trend has been a boon to dads – and non-dads – everywhere. I was at the beach last week, and everywhere I looked, it was dad bod city.
Who can blame us? Men suddenly have validation for our laziness, and apparently there’s an entire subset of women who find our beer bellies attractive!
I admit that I have a dad bod of my own, but not on purpose. I go to the gym several times a week, and I try to eat healthy, give or take 100 beers a week. I don’t want a dad bod. I hate even saying dad bod. And I especially hate the people I blame for giving me one.