Breakfast Bonding

Breakfast Bonding

What is it with children and Cheerios?

My 6-year-old eats them, my baby attempts to eat them, they both spill them and play with them and throw them around. Meanwhile, my cupboard is full of them, my floor is littered with them, the backseat of my car is covered in them, and I’m constantly stepping on them.

I bet you are too. Because when you have kids, you have Cheerios. There’s no way around it.

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Five Ways Kids Are Like Dogs

Five Ways Kids Are Like Dogs

Full disclosure: I’ve done it myself.

Years ago, in my cynical pre-fatherhood stage, I compared babies to pets. Unfavorably, because at least pets have, as I wrote at the time, “furry upside.”

I stand by that, as I enjoy my still cynical mid-fatherhood stage. In many ways, pets are more rewarding than babies. Obviously, babies evolve, and eventually having a child has advantages over owning a dog or a cat (don’t even talk to me about birds and fish and gerbils and hamsters). Eventually.

Right now, I have a toddler. And sometimes I might rather have a puppy.

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Six Great Things About Being a Dad I Didn’t Expect

Six Great Things About Being a Dad I Didn’t Expect

Today is my son’s birthday.

This day doubles as the one time a year I allow myself to get a little bit cheesy on my blog, or, if you read my post last year, a lot cheesy. When you write stuff like this, the occasional corrective is a good thing. But don’t get used to it! I do it as a gift to my son, reassurance to the readers out there who think I hate him, and an eff you to my friend Tim who thinks I’m betraying the Dad and Buried mission statement.

Don’t worry Tim, I’ll get back to pretending to hate my kid tomorrow. Especially if the Dolphins lose while I’m at the park cutting his cake.

Today, we celebrate!

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Take This Under Advisement, Jerkweed! – Volume 7

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.

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