07 Mar

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline 4 comments

Opinion Hated

My son can talk, which is great. Less great is that he can’t seem to stop talking.

Seriously. My kid never stops babbling. But that’s okay. The trouble isn’t that he talks, or even what he says, since a lot of the things he says are cute. He says things he doesn’t understand, and it’s hilarious when kids say darnd things. I won’t brag and say my son says the darndEST things, because I’m not a braggart, and besides, that’s for Bill Cosby to decide. But Detective Munch definitely says some pretty darnd things.

The trouble begins when we actually listen to them.

You Only Live Once

I’ve seen some pretty stupid articles on the internet. Like the one about Frozen having a gay agenda. Or the one about Obama being a Muslim. Or the one about Andy’s mom having once been a child. YEAH RIGHT.

But nothing is as stupid as this one. Sorry, this one. It was on HuffPo the other day (I post on there!), and it’s about how to tell if your kid was reincarnated.

As most people know, there’s no such thing as reincarnation. As most parents know, the only person their kid is a reincarnation of is Mommy or Daddy. And apparently maybe Hitler.

The Sick Day Scramble

It’s terrible when your kid gets sick. Especially when he barely knows it.

My son is three and a half, and this winter he’s had a few tough colds. The coughing, the sore throat, the eternally running nose (although he’s had one of those since he was born, so that’s more of a curse than a health issue), all have reared their heads at one time or another, much to our dismay. Of course, being a resilient, happy-go-lucky kind of guy, Detective Munch barely seems to notice his own symptoms.

Unfortunately, his preschool does notice them. His teachers are like dogs; they can smell sickness. So he’s forced to stay home. And that is a huge hassle.

Read more about The Sick Day Scramble …

20 Feb

Dad and Buried Posted in Health 6 comments

How a Trip to the ER Made Me a Better Parent

To tell you the truth, I don’t remember a lot about it. But I remember the panic.

I remember the dark smudges on my son’s face. I remember sitting in the emergency room watching “30 Rock” on mute, desperately hoping we’d be able to go home soon.

I had accidentally spilled some prescription pills on the floor while my son played nearby. After cleaning them up and being unable to verify how many were in the bottle beforehand, we were terrified that he might have ingested one. It was just an accident. The bottle fell. It wasn’t sitting there open, it wasn’t within my son’s reach. It simply fell. But accident or not, it was still my fault.

Yeah, I definitely remember the panic.

13 Feb

Dad and Buried Posted in Future One comment

Valentine’s Nay

Valentine’s Day approaches.

Countless couples and would-be couples are, as we speak, scrambling to find romantic ways to mark the occasion. It’s stressful and time-consuming and expensive and, for those without sweethearts, frustrating and pathetic and why does God hate me?!

We all know that in its modern-day incarnation, Valentine’s Day is a holiday propped up by candy companies and card companies and restaurants and Yankee Candle, and yet even those of us who reject the concept often end up making some kind of concession to it, if only so our significant others don’t feel left out when the sheep in the office get flowers and they don’t.

Even the least cynical among us can see through the heart-shaped nonsense to the heartless industry behind it. So why do we get our kids involved?

Dad and Buried

Tag: learning

Opinion Hated

Like this:

You Only Live Once

Like this:

The Sick Day Scramble

Like this:

How a Trip to the ER Made Me a Better Parent

Like this:

Valentine’s Nay

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: