04 Dec

Dad and Buried Posted in Fear 2,468 comments

No Country for Young Boys

It’s an easy joke to make.

When there’s another mass shooting, or Trump leads in the polls, or the wrong movie wins Best Picture (remember Crash?), or Trump is an official nominee, or Trump is the actual President(!), it’s funny — kind of fashionable, even — to announce that you’ve had enough and are moving to Canada, or Amsterdam, or Australia, because the country has finally gone insane.

At what point does the joking stop? At what point do you start seriously considering leaving your home country because you’re scared for your kids?

02 Dec

Dad and Buried Posted in Charts and Graphs 13 comments

It’s All Fun and Games…

When you’re a kid, all you want for Christmas, or Hanukkah, or your birthday, are toys. All kinds of toys. Board games, action figures, lightsabers, it barely matters. They’re fun, and they make you happy.

When you’re parent, those same toys become a major source of irritation. They clutter your home, they empty your wallet, they give you a headache…

If you’re lucky.

02 Dec

Dad and Buried Posted in Future 10 comments

Kind Buds

Teaching your kids to be kind is a big deal. I don’t much care what my son becomes, whether he’s rich or poor, athletic or musical or bookish, a ladies man or a guy’s guy, so long as he ends up being a good person. Being kind to other people is a large part of that.

I was hopeful that the new KIND Snacks #kindawesome campaign – which asks people to spread kindness by handing out actual physical (or digital) cards that contain a code for redeeming free KIND bars – would be a fun way to teach my son this major life lesson. So I decided to use the cards they sent me to reward him every time I saw him do something nice.

More than a week later, I still have all my cards. Because five-year-old.

Don’t Hate, Appreciate

My wife loves when our son sleeps in our bed.

It’s tight, he inevitably chooses some weird, awkward position that usually involves one of his feet in her face or my crotch, but she loves it. Even when his presence makes any actual sleep totally impossible and leaves her completely exhausted the next day.

If I’m being honest, I love it too. Because I know it’s not going to last.

29 Nov

Dad and Buried Posted in Language 10 comments

Smack Balk

Sometimes watching sports and being a (good) parent is a tough combination. Especially when you’re a Dolphins fan.

I don’t have much to cheer for these days, but I do have plenty to cheer against (primarily the Patriots, Jets, and Bills). Unfortunately, there’s a five-year-old around most of the time, which makes talking smack about my rivals a lot harder.

But I think I may have found a solution. Thank God Detective Munch can’t read!

Dad and Buried

Tag: fatherhood

No Country for Young Boys

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It’s All Fun and Games…

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Kind Buds

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Don’t Hate, Appreciate

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