13 Sep

Dad and Buried Posted in Advice 6 comments

Take This Under Advisement, Jerkweed! – Volume 7

Here’s the thing, people: when I say I’m a parenting expert, I’m being sarcastic. If you’ve read my blog, you know what I think about the idea that anyone can be an “expert” parent. It’s hogwash. It’s all a gamble.

I should have known that my sarcasm might backfire, especially since it’s been happening my entire life. But here we are, with the seventh installment of my advice series, and this time I got a lot of questions. Serious questions. Difficult questions. And I have no choice but to give them a shot.

Just remember, I’m a clown. A buffoon. I’m no more qualified to tell you how to raise your kids than Britney Spears or Dr. Phil. So remember, while some of my responses will likely contain some good ideas and an occasional bit of insight, apply my advice at your own risk. I WRITE JOKES.

Got it? Good. Now let’s go ruin some lives.

11 Sep

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline 4 comments

Concession Stand

Mom and Buried and I spent the weekend enjoying a local music festival. We knew from the start that Detective Munch wouldn’t be accompanying us to the many night-time shows, but – because we wanted him to experience some live music, which he loves – we took some of the daytime events.

On Saturday, we went to the less interesting (read: bluegrass) bands that were playing outside somewhere, rather than inside some dank dive bar my son couldn’t get into. It worked out okay; the kid got to dance and interact with dogs and strangers and we got to have a beer or two while doing our best to prevent our son from getting bit by disgruntled dogs and strangers.

It’s called compromise, and it’s part of being a parent. But on the eve of his third birthday, it’s time for my kid to start holding up his end of the bargain.

Hard Days’ Nights

Today is my birthday. I know; I don’t care either.

I’m not going to whine about how old I am or anything. Age ain’t nothing but a mile marker on the highway to eternal nothingness, am I right? And truth be told, I don’t feel that different than I did at 27. Except for this three-foot-tall growth that’s attached to my leg, sucking all the energy out of me.

That energy would’ve come in handy over the weekend, when I tried to live like I still was 27 by attending a three-day music fest.

Advisory Scoundrel

I have my bona fides.

You’ve seen me on Huffington Post, inciting the rabble to abuse me with their humorless comments. You’ve seen me on Huffington Post saying serious things, providing insight. And you’ve seen me here, bitching about my son. Constantly.

Obviously, I’m a parenting EXPERT. Don’t believe me? ASK ME FOR SOME PARENTING ADVICE. I dare you.

My answers will blow your mind. And potentially lose you custody of your children.

WIN-WIN.

Fantasy Parenting Draft

It’s football season! And you know what that means: it’s fantasy football season!

Bore everyone to tears with game recaps! Anger wives and girlfriends by spending too much time doing research! Turn leisurely Sundays into stress-filled angerscapes of regret and frustration. I can’t wait!

I’ve written about my relationship with fantasy football before, even going so far as to consider skipping the birth of my child to attend my draft. That was a choice I didn’t end up having to make, thankfully, and it resulted in one of the best day’s of my life: the day I won it all.

These days, almost everyone in the league has kids, and since everyone with kids wishes they had better kids, I thought I’d imagine what the top picks in a Fantasy Parenting draft would look like. Read more about Fantasy Parenting Draft …

Dad and Buried

Tag: children

Take This Under Advisement, Jerkweed! – Volume 7

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Concession Stand

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Hard Days’ Nights

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Advisory Scoundrel

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Fantasy Parenting Draft

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