02 Apr

Dad and Buried Posted in Health 5,030 comments

Homeless or Toddler?

My wife called me today to alert me to the latest adorable thing my son did. Are you ready for this?!

She was getting him ready for his bath, and he decided that the moment right AFTER his diaper came off was the perfect moment to urinate. So urinate he did, all over the floor. Then he slipped in his own urine. And fell. Into his own urine.

SUPER CUTE, right? The kind of thing you’d expect to see an adorable homeless man do while you’re waiting for the subway. I’m actually a little shocked I haven’t seen that happen. I live in New York!

But toddlers and the homeless have a lot of other behavior in common. So much so that it can be hard to tell them apart.

Let’s try.

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29 Feb

Dad and Buried Posted in Babies 3 comments

Toddlers are Crazy

My son is an anarchist. It’s not really his fault, since all toddlers are anarchists. But it’s just a stage he’s going through. I hope.

Maybe they’re not anarchists in the true sense of the word, since they aren’t so much about politics or even abolishing or ignoring rules; they don’t exactly grasp the concept of rules, so it might be a little unfair to label them that way. But it’s clear that they hate rules or boundaries of any kind, even if they can’t articulate why.

Regardless, living with an anarchist is hard work. And whether my son is technically an anarchist or just behaves like one, the end result is essentially the same: CHAOS.

Five Essential Baby Items

Having your first kid is not easy. Despite all the books and the advice, there’s really have no way of knowing what you’re getting into or what you’ll need to survive it all. Every parent gets a bunch of crap when they are having a kid, and a fair amount of it are things that they initially have no real idea what to do with – until they suddenly need to figure it out REAL QUICK.

It’s kind of like a computer game where you collect all sorts of random items you can’t fathom any use for, and then you get to a specific puzzle and it suddenly becomes clear that the only way to solve it is by using that jar of butt paste you somehow acquired way back when.

04 Nov

Dad and Buried Posted in Shut Up 30 comments

My Little Bronies

This morning, my brother alerted me to this story in the Wall Street Journal, about a burgeoning subculture of older people (read: teens and up) who are enthusiastic about the new version of the “My Little Pony” cartoon.

Older male people.

As a free thinking liberal who supports gay marriage, female hockey players and David Bowie, I have no problem with this on any kind of gender-stereotyping level. Besides, there’s a good chance that my previous sentence, in which I lump these male “Pony” enthusiasts in with homosexuals, is potentially offensive to the aforementioned “bronies.” (Yes, bronies. That’s what they call themselves. I know, right?)

The Scariest Job in the World

Last week I wrote a lighthearted piece about my wife’s obsession with Halloween. And I posted this terrifying clip from “Twin Peaks,” featuring a character I truly consider to be the most frightening fictional creation of all time.

Those posts were meant to be fun, and so is Halloween. Being scared is fun (unless you’re my wife or my friend Suj or my older brother Mark) and eating candy is fun and dressing up is fun (especially if you’re my wife or my friend Suj). And having a little kid with whom to experience Halloween makes all of those things even more enjoyable.

Obviously, today actually is Halloween, and while this post may be violating the generally accepted tenor of the holiday, it seems an appropriate time to discuss one of the toughest aspects of being a parent.

It’s completely and utterly terrifying.

Dad and Buried

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