We’re just not cut out to be going out by our selves anymore. We’re just not those people anymore.
“Go out, just the two of you.”
“Yup guys need a date night.”
“Get a babysitter, I’m sure Auntie Tricia would love to babysit!”
Sounds great in theory. Everyone eeds a little time to themselves. Every couple needs to spend some “us” time. Stephanie and I deserve some “us” time for sure… FOOOWWWW SHHHHOOOOOWWWW! But the thing is… I’m not so sure we’re better off without our third wheel.
Things seem to just work out better when the little guy is around. Food tastes better, drinks are colder and the night just seems more fun.
Yet, for some reason the one time we leave him home and head out on an adventure by ourselves, all hell breaks loose. There’s a time and place for everything… There’s a time to be serious and a time to laugh. Unfortunately there’s nights like tonight which don’t fit in any category.
New outfit to go out… $50 Bucks. dinner out… $124 bucks. Crapping your pants in a public restroom… PRICELESS!
Maybe next time we’ll just do take out! Good thing we don’t have to pay the babysitter!
You know how before you become a parent everything that comes out of a baby is disguising and gross… well that doesn’t change much when you do become a parent. Your own kids bodily fluids become a little more tolerable because, well really you don’t have much of a choice. I never thought i’d be so nonchalant about having been pooped on or having to wipe someone else s butt, but apparently there is an innate ability to do so when you become a parent.
However, and that is a HUGE HOWEVER… that does not and will not change your ability to withstand other people’s poo. I know I’ve written about this before: (https://newdadchronicles.wordpress.com/2014/10/27/ocd-and-yuck/), but this morning took on a whole new meaning of grossness.
This morning I watched no less then three people step in human poo. Where did the poo come from? When did it get there? No one actually knows… Or at least they aren’t willing to admit it. Poop is funny to me… Poop is always funny to most people, but poop is also always gross.
There will never be a time when someone who steps in poop is not funny. Yea it probably sucks a little bit for the people who need to clean that up, but it’s funny for the rest of us. Knowing that somewhere out there there’s someone dropping a log and then running away giddy as can be is super funny. We may not know who it was… We don’t even know his real name, but for the purpose of this story we will just refer to him as the “Brown Bomber.”
I’m not going to sit and say that all of a sudden I’m able to face poop head on; I still want nothing to do with it. There is still a feeling of (even if its just for a minute) where you wish you didn’t have to cleanup someone else’s poop… especially as I catch my son’s eye and he gives me that look of, “Yup, I just pooed all over the place… What are you gonna do about it? Nothing, except clean it up. Because I own you now.” That’s the reason why your own kid’s poop is something you have to take care of. It’s not an option it’s just something you have to do.
…other people’s poo… ehhhhh… can’t do it…
Shout out the SW who took one for the team and stepped all in the poo pile first!
I’ve discussed this before, but I’m not sure I’ve actually seen one in real life before… “THE POO PELLET” as it’s commonly called (sometimes referred to by its Latin name the “Caca Pellet”).
When taking off the diaper of a child it is nessesary to take things slow and keep your head on a swivel, keep everything in front of you and have soft hands… Just like fielding a ground ball at first base.
If you don’t, like I didn’t, then the poo pellet is bound to squirt away… an E3… Before you know it it’s dribbling away under the table and out the door… Just like the “On Top of Spaghetti Song.”
I implore you to be careful when you open that diaper… Don’t follow my lead. Be better than Bill Buckner. Be better than me. Keep that Poo Pellet in front of you at all times!
I was never really a snowman kinda kid. I was more of a snow fort and snowball fight kinda guy. But the snowman is a right of passage, its a staple in the northeast, its what sets apart the men from the boys. Jax has been out in the snow before, but he hasn’t had the honor of meeting one of the famous snowmen made by dad… and none of that Olaf crap… I’m talking the real snow man that uses sticks for arms and a carrot for a nose and poop for eyes…
Yup. My kid’s first snowman and I used dog poo for the snowman’s eyes.
I feel awful but, I am sure he won’t remember. There is a time for keeping things simple and this was that time. I wasn’t about to go find some coal. Who even has coal around these days? I mean I guess if you had a steam train running through your backyard… then maybe you might have some coal laying around… but not us. This family is all about using what is available to you… and there is an abundance of poo in the front yard these days.
I think Jax liked his snowman friend.
Today you can call me Peter Venkman, because the poop I that I just fought with was of supernatural proportions. It was everywhere… It was Slimer green… It was unearthly.
I actually had to use the Ghostbusters Ghost Trap to dispose of it once I was done with the struggle of corralling it. Here’s video footage of the event:
On a serious note though. If anyone knows where I can get one of these please, let me know!
Boobs, fart, wiener, butt… Uhhh words that make me laugh for a 100 Alex. As I’m writing that first sentence I literally asked Stef what words make laugh when I hear them and when she said poop I was cracking up. I’m not inappropriate, I’m just a guy. I’m a guy who happens to also be a dad… and dads have sons and sons do funny things that are inappropriately funny.
I’m just not sure when it’s ok to laugh. If I’m with my buddies and someone farts, I laugh. It’s a guy thing (mind you I was raised to be respectful and in general I am). But now I have a son whom I need to be a role model for. As he grows he will inevitably do things and say things that are inappropriate, but that will also be funny.
Tonight was a prime example of what I’m talking about. Let me set the stage: Mom and I are out to dinner at a nice, small restaurant that we’ve been to enough were the people there know us. We are seated and notice Auntie Sue sitting across the room. She promptly comes over and scoops up little Jackson giving Mom and I a few needed minutes to chat and eat by ourselves. Until… Auntie Sue and Jax turn the corner and we see this:
Full on hand down the shirt boob grab. I’m now in hysterics. Mom has turned as red as the marinara on her pasta, but I can’t stop laughing. Inappropriate, yes. Funny as hell, absolutely.
The question is where do I draw the line? When do I have to set a good example and be a role model for my son? Of course by this I mean: be serious and let him know that his actions are not funny… and then laugh like hell on the inside and blog about it later.
Busy day at Grandmas:
Busy reading (or pooping):
Busy eating and smiling and puking:
Busy minding everyone else’s business:
Busy loving momma: