Thursday, April 30, 2009

A mother-daughter conversation: We're not talking to him anymore

I thought I'd just quickly share today a frighteningly foreshadowing conversation that took place recently between my wife J- and my 2-year-old daughter M-:

M- (having built a few short stacks of Duplos on the table): Look Momma, this is a family!

J- (laying on the usual patronizing Parent voice): Oh, that's a verrry nice family.

M- (like all women*, craving drama): And this one is nasty.

J-: Oh, he shouldn't be nasty, he should be nice.

M- (dismissively): He can't help it, him's just nasty.

* Disclaimer: When I say "all women", I am of course merely employing a rhetorical flourish, instead of specifically stating the reality, which is that every single woman in the history of time lives and breathes through the creation, enhancement, or management of drama.

You may also enjoy my previous (5 YO son) D- conversations, (2YO daughter) M- conversations, and (wife) J- conversations.

Posted by LiteralDan

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Celebrity Lists

We’ve all had the conversation about “the list”. You know the celebrity list. That magical register of names that, if the situation arose, would grant you an automatic out of your relationship. I, unfortunately, don’t play that game with WonderWife™ anymore. Living in Los Angeles, there are actually opportunities to meet into your celebrity crushes.

A few years ago, I woke up after a vividly erotic dream about Eliza Dushku. Having the kind of relationship with my wife that I do, I told her about the ribald dream. She smiled and patted me on the arm in that half-patronizing way of hers that basically said, "That's nice honey. Keep dreaming."

Two nights later, I was walking out of a party and saw a colleague of mine. He was with a few other people.

“Hey, meet my friend,” he said gesturing to the woman next to him.

“Hi, I’m Eliza,” the familiar looking brunette said, shaking my hand.

After relaying this story to WonderWife™, she decided that we would not be making any formal agreements about our celebrity lists.

So…Who’s on your celebrity list?

I've got: Reese Witherspoon, Kate Winslett, Jessica Biel and Kelly Monaco.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Things I Repeat, Say What? Things I Repeat

Apart from the above being one of my favourite jokes, those of an irritable ilk anyhow, I have come to realise that there are many parenting statements, or phrases, that I find myself saying a lot.

A lot, a lot, a lot, a lot.

I thought I would put together a top ten, and see if anyone else is using the same, or has their own gems of reiteration.

Here goes;

1. Calm Down

Used on a repeat-to-fade basis, between the hours of 7-30am and 7-30pm.

2. Settle Down

Used on a repeat-to-fade basis, from 7-30pm until shut-eye status is achieved.

3. Focus on the positive

A phrase I use when my son points out that things have not gone exactly as he had hoped, or if his every whim is not catered for within nanoseconds.

4. You Muppet

Useful for moments just after my son has ignored my advice of focusing on the positive.

5. What do you want to eat/wear/do?

My mistake ridden, glib, speaking before thinking. Everyone knows you need to give kids options, otherwise their answers will never do.

6. Are you on prescribed medication?

An affectionate phrase spoken shortly after my son has confused me with his latest request or action, often followed with;

7. You are never right

Again, affection unbound.

8. One or none?

A question I pose when my son stretches the boundaries of reasonableness. When he demands two ice creams for example, I reiterate his options ‘one or none?’ (Can be used in conjunction with number 3)

9. You know the drill/we do this every day

Reminding him that the routine is well established, and thus moaning about it will just lengthen the process

10. I love you

Something I say to my boy, everyday, lots, and while he is responsible for this action, I am not holding it against him.

So there is my ten, I am sure to be revisiting this list, and probably have missed a few.

But, more importantly, what are yours?

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Money matters

Today's lesson with my kids was on the importance of saving money. Since I have a combined $236.33 in my savings and checking accounts until the end of the month, I may not be the best role model for my kids.

This definitely qualifies as one of those "Do as I say, not as I do" moments. There are a lot those in my household.

But, nevertheless, it was my duty to get my kids on the right track when money is involved. It is going to be a challenging task to say the least.

Over the weekend, my second-grader has been finding change all over the place. In two days of looking, she has amassed just over $5 in quarters, dimes, nickles and pennies. After spending over an hour counting and recounting her loot, she was ready to go shopping...

"Dad, can we please go to the dollar store? I can buy five things. Five, Daddy!!"

"Baby, why don't you save your money so you can buy something better a little later?"

"What's better than five things from the dollar store? I can get a pencil, crayons, a notebook and two bags of M&M's!"

She certainly had already mapped out a shopping list. However, I tried to use reasoning to get her back on my side.

"Listen... Why don't I let you look on the internet and you can see if there is anything on the Toys R Us page you would want. Ok?"

She agreed to take a look and I left her to do some window shopping, so to speak. Two hours later, she had an impressive list. Nothing on the list was close to costing $5. A sample of what she had found:

1) Carnival Games for Nintendo Wii
Price: $39.99

2)Baby Alive Potty Training
Price: $34.98

3)Barbie & The Diamond Castle Playset Doll and Pet
Price: $92.99

4)18" Girl's Disney Fairies Bicycle - Huffy
Price: $99.99

5)Nintendo DS Lite Onyx
Price: $129.99

She was really excited about the list until I explained to her how much more money she would need to get each item. Disappointment was written all over her face.

"Do you know how much longer I am going to have save to get them? It's going to take me for ever! But, I'll do it... I guess."

As she walked away from me with her money and headed upstairs, I told her I was proud of her and the decision she made. She turned around to me and I thought she was going to say thank you. I was wrong.

"You are just glad you don't have to take me to the dollar store. Now, you can keep watching the football draft."

Wow... she is smarter than I thought.

Friday, April 24, 2009

Sexual healing

I have a new hobby. I enjoy it. Immensely.

The other people who have to endure it while I am enjoying myself is a different story. For them, the three to five minutes must seem like an eternity. However, I could really care less.

I am just living the dream. Me, a microphone and a willing or even an unwilling audience is all I need.

Well, maybe one beer. When your as bad as I am, a little liquid courage never hurts. Who would have thought that partaking in Karaoke would be so much fun?

They say those who can do, and those who can't teach. Well, I am already a teacher. So, when it comes to singing, I pick songs that I have no business singing. If you can't do it, try and screw it up as much as possible is my philosophy.

Why take yourself seriously when you know you aren't any good? It's all about having fun and letting loose.

So, my song of choice? Clarence Carter's Strokin'. That's right. This 5-foot-7, 150-pounder sings a song sung by a big black man with a strong voice.

That's like Barry White singing Barry Manilow's Mandy. It doesn't work.

But, me impersonating Carter giving sexual tips? It doesn't get any better. The irony of it all... sex is something I vaguely remember.

But, I can sing about it.

"Let me ask you something...
How long has it been since you made love, huh?
Did you make love yesterday
Did you make love last week
Did you make love last year
Or maybe it might be that you plannin' on makin' love tonight"

It doesn't matter that I would have to answer no to all those questions. Well, last year... that would be yes.

No. What matters is that for the few minutes I am up there, I am making love with the microphone. And, it's good. Real good.

For me, at least. When your a single dad, sometimes that's as good as it gets.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

D.U.I. -- Decorating Under the Influence

We are in the process of converting my daughter's bedroom from heartwarming (read: infantile) to chest-pain-inducing (read: tween). This, of course, meant that the rubber duck theme of the bathroom next door also had to go.

Thing 1 and I headed to the local Dead, Daft and Diddley to select a new shower curtain, which we did along with a plastic ice-tray mold one can use to make teeth-chattering shot glasses.

This latter purchase is a necessity because redecorating in our house usually requires serious post-project imbibing to relieve the pain of smashed fingers, sore backs and box cutter slashes. It also creates a dreamy soft focus that masks my inability to get corners to square properly and helps My Love feel more in sync with the inevitably wobbly IKEA furniture we end up piecing together.

I had just put the shot-glasses-to-be in the freezer and settled down to catch up on what TiVo had wrought when My Love said I would need to go back to the store. The hooks I had purchased to hang the new shower curtain were not big enough.

"You just might want to get a smaller rod," she said.

"Amazing," I said. "You have managed to utter a sentence that in the history of Western civilization has probably never before been said by a wife to her husband."

She looked at me askance, paused, then left the room.

Mentally, though, she took the keys to my minivan off the counter and whipped them straight into my nether lands.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Patented Anti-Viagra Device

I have a handful of patents to my credit, and still occasionally do patent searches. One such foray into the US patent database made me aware of a device so horrific in concept, so pain-stakingly designed, I felt it my duty to make the Hot Dads aware.

US Patent 587,994 - Surgical Appliance

Innocuous enough title, right? But just read from the specification...

The device is adjusted to the person by fitting plate A over the abdomen and securing it by belt B. The organ [ed. note: yes, that organ] is passed through the aperture a, which fits close up around the base [ed. note: yes, that base!], and this member [do I have to say it again?!] is then drawn down... and secured... The pricking-points [ed. note: ouch!] are adjusted so as to lie in such proximity above, though clear of, the organ, as may be found best.

The member [ed. note: yes, that member!], being drawn down held down in lip a', will as long as there is no excitement not be in contact with the pricking-points...

WTF! Talk about animal cruelty. And I'm not talking about wild animals. I'm talking about the animal known as Hot Dad (in esteem or potential). I mean, this is a surgical appliance to keep a guy from having an erection.

It's the anti-viagra device!

What happened to patents for spatulas and grills and awesome homemade hamburger recipes?

Thank God, this surgical appliance issued in 1897. The 20 year monopoly granted to the patent owner has expired.

Then again, there's patent 6736142: Protective Tube and Harness, a method to assure masculine chastity characterized in that the penis is bandaged with an adhesive tape, and the bandage is protected externally by a metallic tube.

That one issued in 2002, which means it's still in effect! Someone out there is sick.

I think it's time the Hot Dads take over the US Patent and Trademark Office, and put an end to beastly patents like these. Who's in?!

(This Hot Dads public service alert brought to you by Dad's House – Dating and Parenting by an Unchaste Hot Dad)

Thumbnail image of figure from US Patent 587,994
as found on the US PTO website.

Closing the Baby Shop, Part 4

I woke up the morning of the surgery, put on my tighty whiteys and sweatpants as instructed, and headed out into the frosty morning to get neutered. At the doctor’s office, I was outfitted in the classic open backed surgery gown and a pair of blue socks that had puffy paint treads on the bottom, similar to what can be found on the soles of the socks of my infant daughter. I was led to the operating room and left to wait, bare assed, blue bootied, shorn and nervous. Sitting next to me was a tray of shiny, sharp instruments, which I had been sternly warned by the nurse not to touch. As if I wanted to get up close and personal with the instruments of torture that were going to be used to slice open my anatomy.

I sat there for a while.

As the wise poet Tom Petty once said, the waiting is the hardest part. After nearly 20 minutes of solitude, the doc came in and asked me how I was doing.

“Have you ever had surgery before?” He asked in an all too chipper of a tone.

“Only above the neck,” I told him.

I was prepped, which consisted of the nurse reclining the table and ladling a brown liquid all over my crotch, and the party began. As he stood over my genitals, the doc made another crack about it being cold. I wanted to punch him in the back of the head. First off, it was cold. The nurse had even given me a blanket while I did my time in solitude before the surgery. Second, now was not the time to be insulting my manhood. My balls had pretty much figured out what was to come when their protective layer of hair was removed the previous evening. Everything had been shriveled down there for the past 12 hours. Third, you used that joke already during the consult. Time to get some new material.

I closed my eyes, plugged in my earbuds and the procedure began.

After all of the stories I had heard, the warnings from friends and the all of the nervousness leading up to the surgery, I can honestly say that the vasectomy wasn’t that bad. The worst pain endured was during the Novocaine injection, which felt exactly like what it was—a big needle being stuck into my scrotum. A shooting pain traveled from my left testicle to somewhere just above my crotch, like an electrical shock had overtaken one of my nerves. But this pain was fleeting and after it subsided I honestly couldn’t feel anything. The problem then became psychological. Even though you can’t feel it, you know what’s being done down there and no matter what, you cannot get that out of your head. I started to hyperventilate and I could feel my body temp rise. I flashed back to that Lamaze class that WonderWife™ and I had to sit through before the Bean was born. They said to breathe. I did and was amazed to learn that the stuff actually worked. In retrospect, WW™ probably should have used it during the births of our two children. However, as a result of the breathing, my throat got dry and I wanted to cough more than anything in the world. But I dared not for a single cough would cause the lower half of my body to shake. The same lower half that currently had some of its insides on the outside.

The procedure was soon over and as the table was raised, I was given a Dixie cup of the most delicious cold tap water I’ve ever had. The nurses slid a jock strap over my legs and around my waist in the exact same way that I put on the Bean’s underwear in the morning. I stood up adorned in the jock-strap (or, in the words of my take-home literature, my “scrotal support”), which accentuated the ass-less gown/bootie ensemble perfectly. Ladies, I was looking hot. They gave me two specimen cups, for my follow up visits, in a bag labeled “biohazard” and sent me on my way. A half-hour later I was in bed with a bag of frozen corn on my balls, eating a delicious peanut butter and jelly square that WonderWife™ had made for the occasion. (Have I mentioned how totally awesome that woman is?)

I would have gone to work the next day, except that I was inadvertently all fucked up on narcotics. After the procedure, the doc asked me if I wanted pain medication. The answer was a no brainier, “Yes.” I took the pill, Ultram, the afternoon after the surgery and felt fine until the next morning, when in the shower I realized that I felt both drunk and hung over at the same time. There was no way I was going to operate a motor vehicle or subject myself to the scrutiny of my colleagues and boss.

The day after that, however, I was amazed how much the pain had receded from my balls. I went back to work and only my boss knew of the real reason I had missed two days of work.

So that was it. I’ve been snipped. And it was much less of a big deal than I had imagined. I told a friend of mine about the surgery and he turned pale saying, “I feel like I’m chewing on tin foil.” But really fellas, we shouldn’t be melodramatic about this whole thing. Women have it so much worse.

Happily, it’s all over for me. After I clean out my system, I will hopefully be given the all clear from the doc and then I will be able to officially turn the sign on the front of the baby shop from “open” to “closed”.

Click here for parts 1, 2 and 3.


Monday, April 20, 2009

Ask the Hot Dads #5

Once again, our loyal readers have turned to us, the Hot Dads, for help with their lives. Why? Cause we are bursting with knowledge and we are amazing.

If you have a question, no matter how big or small, about any subject, email it to: tentcamper1 [AT] gmail [DOT] com.

And here we go:

Question #1
Do you a think that the longer you are with a partner, you have less desire to do sexual things that won't result in sex? I have been talking to several female friends, and everyone's experience seems to be that their men were very interested in making out, groping, etc in the early days of their relationship, even if they knew they weren't going to be getting anything more in the immediate future. As time goes on, those things tend to get relegated into the 'foreplay' category, and the men are only interested in these things if they are going to result in sex or a blowjob. From a male perspective, do you all think this is true?

Tent Camper says: I know that in many relationships, what you are describing occurs. I can say that when it happens in our house it usually is a direct result of both of us paying more attention to the kids, the household, jobs, etc…than each other. I has to be discussed and stopped. Make a date night…or at least a few nights a week where you only focus on one another. It can be difficult when you have kids (especially 6, like
we do) but both people have to admit that it is a problem and acknowledge that they want to remedy it. Get a sitter and go to a move…fondle each other …or have a picnic and fool around there…somewhere that you can’t “go all the way.”

Cameron says: YES. Here’s the deal….when we were courting you, we had to play all the games, even if it meant not getting any at the end of the day. Now that we’ve got you, we don’t have to play the games anymore. If you’re not gonna finish the game, we’re not gonna play.

Southern Sage says: Hmmmm This is a good question. I think this is true. I would go down her until she came without it ending in sex or a bj. I'm up for that anytime. But most acts kinda fall away unless its going to end up in sex, for me any act that ends up in her having an orgasm I'll do anytime without me having one so count that either way as far as your question is concerned.

Daddy Geek Boy says: I’m a guy so I’ve never been interested in doing sexual things that won’t result in sex. Since my hormones kicked in, my whole life has been about doing sexual things that will result in sex. When I was dating, sometimes making out or copping a feel would be all I could get, so I needed to be satisfied with that. But I’m married with two small kids and frankly, I don’t have a lot of time for making out that doesn’t go anywhere. That said, being intimate doesn’t have to lead directly to sex. A good morning make out session can be foreplay for that evening’s bedroom activities.

Hubman says: From my experience, that is not true. Veronica and I often find opportunities to make out, quickly fondle one another, etc. For us, foreplay can be an all-day event, especially when she sends me naughty texts during the day to mess with me at work! Of course, she and I are probably the exception, managing to have sex 6-8 times per week after 18 yrs together....

Question #2
What you think my husband is gay? I have point blank asked him at least 4 times and he has said no. His porn is gay and he has been on a gay site. ( I know Jeff Foxworthy would say here's your sign, lol) I have opened the closet door, won't he just come out?????"

Tent Camper says: Being that I don’t know him…It is hard difficult for me to say. I assume that there must be something with the male body or men fooling around that turns him on. That being said…it might be a good thing for you (in a sense). Maybe you can talk to him about having a threesome with another guy. Either you will all have a great time…or he will pay all of his attention on the other guy …but then you would have your answer…you just need to figure out what your plan of action would be in either case…your response must be quick and stern.

But what the hell do I know?

Cameron says: Do you still have sex with him? If yes, then he’s Bi. If no, then he’s gay. On the plus side, maybe this could end with you being in the middle of a sausage sandwich.

Southern Sage says:
Bill Engvall is the here's your sign guy! Men can only be straight or gay, they can not in my opinion be bi. If they watch gay porn, visit gay sites or enjoy having a penis in their general vicinity that isn't attached to them, they are gay. If they have been with 600 women and one guy, they are gay. Chicks can be bi, guys can not. To answer your question, yes ma'am he's gay.

Daddy Geek Boy says: A gay person coming out of the closet is like trying to put a cat into its carrier to take it to the vet…if he don’t wanna do it, it’s not gonna happen. If your suspicions are correct there are probably a hundred reasons why your guy wants to stay closeted, which is his business. But if he is gay, it’s uncool of him to ask you to live this lie also. You’re not going to be able to badger him into coming out, but if his suspected preference is impacting your life you need to make him understand this.

Hubman says: Yes I do think he is, based on the little info you give us. Why won't he come out? Because he's likely scared of the social stigma some people associate with homosexuality.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Whatcha-ma-callit, Caption Contest

Times are tough but I dont think they are that tough!

Porn for women! Click to big it.

Haaaaaaa some of y'alls kids need this shirt?

rut roh, somebody is busteddddddddddddddd

Well last week I went to pick the kids up from the school house and Son 6 and Daughter 10 loaded up in the truck. Son said "Daddy you know what J told me today?" Well I figured this might not end well and I started to tell him to wait and tell his momma when I got em home. But being an idiot I said "do tell". He said he told me that a girls PP is really called a cha-china! I damn near wrecked the truck. You know how kids look at you when they have a revaluation to tell you. Well my boy was serious as a sake bite when he told me about the cha-china. Daughter 10 fainted think, she rolled her eyes at me. Well I corrected him but I got to thinking ( I expect little or no response to this really but I did study on it) , What is it you call your stuff, when you think it. I mean when you think about that part of your body, male or female what do you think of it as? When you think of the opposite sex what do you think of it as?
I mean surely few people think "my penis is pinched in the dungarees" or "these pants make my vagina uncomfortable" I can hardly imagine 3 chicks on a GNO saying amongst themselves "look at the bulge on that fella, his penis looks huge in those pants". I could be wrong on my suppositions but I doubt it. I know for sure that I have never ever ever heard guys say "damn fellas her vagina was this that or the other."

I always of course use different terms than most others because thats how I roll. I mean any of y'all known many folks like me? There ya go.

See I go with unit, tally whacker, ding a ling or the General (hey when I was a kid some of em called it privates, I figured if they had a private mine was sure The General, 5 stars too!)

Then your stuff, female girl women I always went with Tater,or Yee haw (that what I always think when I'm close to one yeeeeeee haawwwwwwwwww) or as an action would go with "shot of wing ding, or shot of leg. Like "hey baby whatabout a shot of wing ding?" Or "Hey any chance I'm gonna getta shotta leg tonight?"

So there ya go, now tell me whatcha call yours and the opposite sexes stuff?

Caption contest!

Ok there ya go, give the last one a caption! Opine on whatcha call it. Steal any of the pics you want! Send questions for Hotdads to answer, answers to questions go up tomorrow!

Say it. NSFW slides up at Sageville!

Saturday, April 18, 2009

The Boy In The Hall

The boy in the hall, looking so confused
Having no friends - And all the friends in the world
Expressions changing, personality so fluid,
Like the chameleon, his ability to blend is his only defense

Thoughts and attention on surviving the day,
Inner self is ignored ‘til enemies are at bay.
Mistaken happiness – fitting in
Sadness overwhelms the innocent victim.
Sliding from clique to clique just to maintain,
One false move and it all goes down the drain.

Being pulled form all sides,
Can’t hold on, he needs to choose.
The forecast is blurred, he has to guess.

Praying the right choices were made,
He’ll do his best in all he does.
Realizing that wrong choices were made,
Unwilling to change made the boy who he was.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Closing the Baby Shop, Part 3

Click here for Part 1

Click here for Part 2

The dreams started about a week before I was scheduled to have the procedure. Clearly, my subconscious was concerned about the vasectomy. In one dream, I sat in the waiting room indefinitely, thumbing over and over again through the only magazine they had—a dog-eared copy of Highlights for Children. In another, I had forgotten to wear sweatpants and briefs, as I had been instructed, and was forced to walk around pant-less, until WonderWife™ could bring me the garments. In the strangest one, Stephen Colbert was my doctor. His cocky attitude did not make for a great bedside manor.

During my consultation, I had been instructed to shave the night before the surgery. This was a surprise. I had listened to many anecdotes about vasectomies and none of them included self-shaving. Nonetheless, I arrived home from work that night and headed into the bathroom, armed with determination, electric clippers and my Gillette Fusion.

I had not been given specific shaving instructions and as I stood in the bathroom, pants around my ankles, I realized that I had no idea what area they wanted shaved. It’s not like there’s any resource for this. I certainly wasn’t going to Google “male scrotum shave”. So I decided that the best thing to do was to get rid of it all.

Admittedly, I had been rather lax about my manscaping over the past few months, so things were more unkempt down there than usual. Shaving myself was a perilous process that took a lot of time, nearly half a can of shaving cream and two blades. At first I worried about cutting myself, but soon realized that was a ridiculous notion. No small nick would compare with punishment that my boys were going to face the next day.

I finished up, toweled myself off and called out to WonderWife™, who was kind enough to preserve my dignity by giving me privacy during this ordeal. Though I’m sure she was giddy with curiosity to see the result. She raced in and tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh. My poor balls looked pathetic and bare, like a naked mole rat. My boys hadn't looked like this since I was 11.

One of the major complaints guys have about vasectomies is that they diminish one’s manhood. I was beginning to see why. I was not looking forward to how it was going to feel when things down there started to grow back.

"There really is nothing like a shorn's breathtaking." - Dr. Evil

To be continued...


Thursday, April 16, 2009

The Truth About Adoption

This was a post from my other blog ...long ago, but I thought that you all may not know some of MY backstory...

Originally, I started my other blog to post some of the stupid stuff that goes on in my life…but after thinking about it…it is kind of scary how much of my life really seems like I am pissing in the wind. And the saga begins…

Have you ever had a phone call where you instantaneously felt the need to vomit, poop, pee, fart, cry and scream all at the same time? That is the call I got the other day.

Sitting at my desk, the phone rang. I picked up. (the description from my wife was) my eyes went bloodshot and teary, mouth gaped open, face turned to stone and I began to sweat profusely as I sunk into my chair. I guess I then began to talk as if I had a mouthful of vomit and that my side of the conversation was limited to one syllable gurgling sounds. On the other end of the phone was my natural mother! HOLY F!!!! I am 40 years old and was adopted when I was 10 days old. Here comes the vomit again just thinking about it. Not that I did not like the call but I literally thought I had to run and change my pants.

I know that there are a lot of adopted people out there and that you never really know how things will work out until you just do it. Well…forget peeing in the wind. This one was more like peeing straight up and letting it come down all over my head. I think I’m going to go throw up….or poo …or both.

More Here and then ...This ...and then...These 1 and 2
(*After reading the above...and links, please come back here and tell me your thoughts.)

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Service with a smile

While eating dinner the other evening, my wife J- asked me for a napkin. I immediately reached for my own as she began an anecdote, and I quickly flicked it over toward her with two fingers, in my continuing effort to set the best possible example I can for the children.*

The napkin, folded just once in half, sliced up through the air and then zoomed straight down into her mouth like a sniper's bullet shot from an extremely handsome and talented gun.

Because this may already be the most perfect moment that will ever happen in my entire life, I can't help but feel a bit melancholy whenever I laugh hysterically all over again about the look on her face.

* I have to note here, in a footnote as long as the post itself, that she absolutely hates having things thrown towards her, since she's baselessly paranoid about her supposed inability to catch projectiles of any kind, so I'm not really sure why I chose to throw the napkin in the first place, but I admit I had no idea it had the weight and shape to perform this miracle.

She's actually not half-bad at catching, and not quarter-bad at throwing, though of course she's nowhere near the superhuman level at which I operate.

I think it must be my own freakish reflexes that lead me to constantly initiate spontaneous games of catch on a microsecond's notice. After all this time, J-'s been known to threaten me with severe bodily harm at seeing me do so much as raise my arm up with something in my hand.

Even she had to appreciate the beauty of this one, though. The kids sure did.

Posted by LiteralDan

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

The English Language Sucks!

This post was on my blog the other day, but then I saw that we needed some filler

I know that it has been a while since I last posted, but there has just been a lot going on in my life lately. Not to mention my latest issue.

The kids are off visiting with their father and the house is virtually empty. These are the times that I reserve to get some shit done around the house. The project at the top of my list right now, though not a huge one, is the cause for both anxiety and deep thought.

The project itself is simple…repair the leak in our shower. Remove the shower knob. Remove and replace worn inner part(s). Re-attach knob and seal. Simple…yes, I know.

The issue is as follows: I have no caulk. (No…I did not say COCK…I said caulk.) This is where the anxiety comes in. I hate the fact that I have to walk into my local hardware store and ask the burly guy that runs the place if he has caulk. What do you say? “Excuse me…I am looking for caulk.” “Do you have caulk?” “Where can I find caulk?” “Do you have light brown caulk? My wife does not want white caulk.”

What the fuck is wrong with the guy who invented and named caulk? Wouldn’t you think that he’d know how it sounds and that the majority of people buying it would be plumbers, builders, DIY “manly men” and the such? He could have just named it; goop or sealer or even sticky shit. (Although there may be similar issues with “sticky shit.”

So basically, I have not started my project and have a feeling that before I do, I will be down at the hardware store scanning the aisles for the caulk display as so this manly mo fo will not need to inquire with anyone about caulk.

I even thought about sending Mariah to make the purchase…but I know her. She would have too much fun with it and would be all, “Excuse me big boy….can you show me your caulk? I need some very badly.” OH HELL NO….I ain’t with all that!

Sports Talk

Baseball season has started again. I know this not because I’m a fan of the game, but because my Red Sox obsessed friends suddenly started mentioning it in their Facebook status updates. Thus begins another sports season, which means all summer there will be conversations in which I cannot participate.

I was not born with the sports gene. I was never a strong athlete as a kid, and the shame of being a boy who’s not good at sports pretty much sucked all of the interest in them from me like a dry sponge in a bathtub of water. Now that I’m an adult male, and thankfully not measured by my athletic abilities, or lack thereof, I’ve come to respect sports and even like them somewhat. At least I like the competitive aspect of them. But since I’ve spent the majority of my life actively avoiding things that require you to buy equipment and keep score (video games excepted), I know very little about them. Sure, I know the basic rules to most of the major games, but I’m lost when it comes to players and stats—the two factors that make up 99.67% of sports talk.

It’s too daunting a task to try to get up to speed on a particular sport, which would be like trying to learn how to speak a new language or play an instrument. It would take a frustratingly long time and suck up the remainder of my rare and precious free time. Besides, my brain is already filled with movie trivia and Simpsons quotes, I'm not sure if I can add anything else without running the risk of losing important information like my wife's birthday or my social security number. I’ve tried to join betting pools, thinking that if I have money on the line, I’ll be motivated to study. Turns out that me joining a pool is the equivalent of walking up to a stranger on the street and handing them a wad of cash.

Because I’m ignorant about sports, I’m left out of a lot of conversations. Get a bunch of guys together and sports is guaranteed to come up at some point. When this happens, I’m left ignorantly nodding my head, trying to keep up with the barrage of facts and figures that have no relevance for me in the slightest.

It’s worse in one-on-one situations. A guy will never ask another guy, “Do you like sports?” The sports assumption is always made with questions like, “What sports do you follow?” or, “Who’s your team?” or the trickiest query, “What did you think of the game last night?” When faced with one of these questions, my admission of my non-sports status is usually met with a puzzled and disapproving look that says, “Why don’t you go stand in the corner and knit a sweater or something?”

When in my office, guys don’t understand that the picture on my desk of the Bean wearing a football jersey and holding a beer and a remote is a joke. They view it as an invitation to talk sports. The subsequent explanation about the picture is both wordy and uninteresting. It’s hard to explain irony.

I secretly hope that my kids get into sports, so that I will be forced to bone up in order to better communicate with them. However, growing up under my roof it’s more likely that my kids will watch Bugs Bunny than baseball.

So as this summer’s barbeque season approaches, I know that I will find myself at a party, drifting from one sports conversation to the next, until I inevitably wander over to a group of women who are talking about TV.

However, I don’t watch “American Idol” either.


Monday, April 13, 2009

Ask the Hot Dads #4

Question #1

I have a real dilemma that is really causing a problem for my NEW marriage (15 months). Since we have begun living together after marriage, things have really changed. My husband prefers porn to a willing wife!! WTF I am the woman who wants sex everyday and I would complain because I want it more. Back story, before we got married he would come visit me every weekend and once or twice during the week. There was not a problem, there was regular sex...woohoo. Now I am lucky to get it once a month, and that has been for the last 10 months!!! That is NOT a sex life to me. We do have opposite schedules but he always has time to gratify himself and nothing for me. I have tried and if you check my blog you will see the latest of my efforts and the outcome (new blogger, it is the first two posts). We or I should say I have talked but he will not say a word to me. I use the questions 'how can WE come to a compromise', 'what can we do'. But nothing. I really truly mean he does not say a word. How do I get him to talk to me?? This hurts!! Our marriage is to new to be having such an issue. I don't want to stray but I don't feel desired or wanted. I am not a prude I am willing to do anything, I have plenty of toys, lingerie, I will tell you what I want and how. There isn't even a problem with orgasms, and it doesn't take an hour, 5 minutes if you are hitting the right spots, I have multiple (thank you)!! What man would prefer a porn to the real thing??? HELP

Hubman says: To be honest, I don't think any of us have nearly enough information to attempt to give you some advice that would be the least bit useful. I took a look at your blog, and one thing I wonder about is your issue with chronic back pain that you write about. Could that indirectly be affecting him, knowing that if you're in pain a fair amount of time and he doesn't want to make it worse during sex? I don't know, I'm grasping at straws here....

You and he did not live together before you got married, correct? I wonder if there are issues that he's afraid to talk about that are getting in the way of intimacy. Basic co-habitation issues, you know what I mean? Is living together THAT much different than what either of you expected?

To get to your last question, I don't know a man who would prefer porn to a willing woman and can't fathom that. But you're not alone- just look around the blogosphere, there are tons of women writing about getting sexual satisfaction outside of their marriages because their husbands are NOT into sex AT ALL. Not that I'm suggesting you do that, just saying so to illustrate a point.

Daddy Geek Boy says: Studies have shown that porn can be addictive. Because there’s an endless supply of it on line, the bountiful buffet of beautiful boobs and butts can…uh…what was I saying? Oh yeah. It’s entirely possible to get too wrapped up in porn. Taking care of one’s self regularly can certainly take a bit of the will to hunt out of the hunter, but I don’t know of any guy who would take squeezing one out in front of the TV or keyboard over real live flesh. My Spidey sense is tingling here. Usually a problem with a couple’s sex life is a symptom of a larger problem. You guys are too new a married couple to be running into stuff like this, especially if you had a healthy sex life before getting married. But I feel there’s a lot of info that we’re missing so it’s hard to really give a diagnosis. My best advice is that you need to talk to each other and if you can’t open up the lines of communication yourselves, reach out to a counselor. Good luck and I hope it all works out.

David (Dad’s House) says: I don't know any guy who would choose porn over the real thing. That said - men like to hunt. You have to make him chase you. Tease and tantalize him a bit. A hint of cleavage or a trace of thong can do wonders.

Cameron says: You say your husband prefers porn…..but here’s a question, is he actually getting off? Masturbating? Is he openly watching porn in front of you or is he hiding it from you? If he’s NOT spankin it, I would chalk it up to low sex drive. Is he on any medication for anxiety, blood pressure, depression? Certain medications can definitely hinder your libido. Aside from that, I might offer one piece of advice to you. You mentioned in one of your posts that you were lying there naked spread when he got home (I think at this point we will need some scantily clad photos just for verification purposes, please send to …. ) and nothing happened. My word of advice is this – play hard to get for a little bit. This WILL NOT work immediately, but after a week or two it may kick in. Guys like the thrill of the chase. We want to work a little bit for it, we want to hunt it down and take it for ourselves, sometimes it’s just not as exciting if it’s right there in front of our face, and we didn’t have to work to get it. Make sense?

Tent Camper says: WOW…not sure where to start with this one. There seems to be several issues here. I will start with the porn one; Watch the porn with him. Find out what parts or people get him the most turned on. Use that information to shift his attention to you as opposed to the porn…or even in conjunction with it.

You need to MAKE him talk. Communication is the only way a marriage can work. If you need to…do something to get his attention. Offer to let him watch you with someone else…if he prefers to watch. You just have to get him to talk. He may feel that the things that turn him on
are dirty and he does not want you to be dirtied. If so, ask him to tell you his fantasies…tell him that those ‘dirty’ things are not dirty…that they are hot. (well….unless he is watching snuff or child porn…then…I would just get out)

Southern Sage says: I always first ask if his stuff works properly. I mean if he doesn't or has probs getting it up then maybe that is embarrassing to him and he'd rather not go through that. Have you turned him down for any thing he might want? He might be punishing you for not doing what he wants sexually. Have you discussed you looking elsewhere for sex? Hell he might agree to it. What kind of porn does he watch? Is it specific and the same thing every time? Have you changed since the wedding? Gained or lost a lot of weight? Shaved your head? or something significant? (not that any of that is a reason to pass up on sex but they might be to him)

I cant understand why any guy ever would turn their partner down, ever but they do often it seems. I dunno, that's all I got.

Question #2
How do guys go to the store with a list of 2 things and manage to come home with ONLY the 2 things on the list? Doesn't the sale item excite you? How can you bypass all the beautiful produce, magazines, bakery? Amazing.

Hubman says: That's easy, it's because I'm a list kind of guy. The wife gives me a list, I go to the store and get what's on the list. Sure, Mac and Cheese might be on sale, but I have no idea what's in the cupboard at home, so why buy it if for all I know we already have 8 boxes of the stuff?

That's not to say I won't take the opportunity to cheat on my diet and grab some Ben & Jerrys, you know what I'm sayin'...

Daddy Geek Boy says: Sure it’s easy to resist at the grocery store. Best Buy, however, is a completely different story.

David (Dad’s House) says: I'm divorced, and shop for myself. I never carry a list. I just get what I need, then leave. Unless, of course, Jim Beam Black or Bombay Sapphire Gin is on sale. Then I get excited!

Cameron says: Easy…we get frustrated when we can’t easily find something, then we get pissed, then we leave. J

I could care less if there are sale items unless it involves cow or pig. Don’t get me wrong, I comparison shop, and I buy items when they’re on sale, but no, they don’t excite me. The produce and magazines and bakery are about the three main areas I like to avoid, that and the tampon isle. Actually, the bakery is Ok, they have tons of sugary goodness there, but produce and magazines….snooze.

Tent Camper says: I do most of the shopping around here and I “stick to my list.” I am not one to stray from my intended items, but I will say that if an incredible deal pops up…I will most likely indulge. The thing that I don’t do, that I see women often do is self-indulge. I will not go “off list” for things that I like (unless I am at Home Depot.) When Mariah goes to the store, she comes home with bagfuls of shit that was “off list” and many things that were on the list…are not to be found.

Southern Sage says: LoL well don't fret my bride can't do it either. Its easy just go get whatcha need then leave. I hate being in there too, undisciplined kids, people not paying attention etc. So I can't wait to be gone from there.

Are there important things you need to know? You best believe that the Hot Dads can help. Drop us a question by posting them in the comments section or email them to tentcamper1 [AT] gmail [DOT] com

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Caption Contest

A man inserted an 'ad' in the classifieds:20'Wife wanted'.. Next day he received a hundred letters. They all said the same thing: 'You can have mine.'

hehehe everyone has days like this!

and she cooks evidently!

Look at those puppies!!

That about sums it up!

Caption Contest! Come on gimmie something good! Leave your best in the comments!

You know what I did before I married? Anything I wanted to.

My wife and I were happy for twenty years Then we met..

Henny Youngman

First Guy (proudly): 'My wife's an angel!'
Second Guy: 'You're lucky, mine's still alive.'


A good wife always forgives her husband when she's wrong.

Rodney Dangerfield

well there ya go y'all hit up the caption contest. More Slides over in Sageville of course. I hope everyone has a groovy Easter and if you went to church house I hope it didn't cave in on anyone!!

Saint Sage is out!

Friday, April 10, 2009

Maintenance Man (Child)

I am not renowned for my hands-on skills.

In fact, most of my family and close friends would say that I was inept in the art of putting things together and fixing stuff.

All this in spite of me project managing my own self-build, and I even once put up a shelf that was reasonably straight.

There are correct though, I am a tad useless when it comes to graft with a modicum of craft. And I avoid doing these jobs as much as is physically possible, bribing and cajoling others to help me.

That, I am much better at.

Today I really had to give the garden an overhaul.

It was time.

The wind here had also battered a few things over the winter, so I needed to do some maintenance of some other outside stuff too.

My gentle coaxing today got my mother to mow the lawn, my father to trim the edges, and I even got the pensioner from across the road to trim my hedge.

Coaxing is my bag.

Colostomy is probably his (my neighbour) .

I have also started training the boy, so my upkeep schedule can be further shared.

Check him out.

Available at a reasonable price.

With Daddy's 20%, obviously.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

When You Can't Coach

I sucked as a soccer coach. I volunteered to be in charge of a team of eight boys playing six-on-six soccer (they were 5 year-olds). Even with my soccer-playing older daughter giving me tips, I managed to lead the team through a season where we lost every game. (Hey, no one keeps score at that age, right? Um... ok.)

Thankfully, the next time I coached, I was paired with a dad who was such a good athlete, his jersey was retired in high school. (I think my school retired a TI-55 calculator in honor of me.) We led our team of boys to an undefeated season and league championship. (Damn straight, we kept score!)

Okay, so I rode that dad's coattails to coaching glory. I've since retired from the youth sports coaching ranks. I went out a winner! (My son thinks that's funny. He takes it all with a grain of salt, and ribs me about our losing season.)

I believe it's important for every parent to show their kids they have a passion and talent for something. Whether that's soccer, camping, fishing (I love TentCamper's big catch), cycling (here I am with Lance Armstrong at the Tour of California), cooking (I hold the patent on the worlds best hamburger recipe), stamp collecting, robotics (the science fairs at our local school are quite competitive), knitting, rescuing animals, whatever - I think kids benefit when they see their parents engaged with life, even more so when the parent can share those experiences with their kids. (As a coach, mentor, etc.) Kids like to know their parents are good at something.

For me and my son, that connection has come through music. My dad played trumpet, I played trumpet, my son plays trumpet. For years, I gave him trumpet playing tips to help him excel and stand out. Things were going great. So much so, the school band director said my son had chops and was ready for a real private teacher.

At first, I hated the idea of being replaced as his trumpet teacher. Granted, I was a too lax with him. I taught him all the cool stuff (how to hit high notes, and how to twirl his trumpet like he was in the Earth Wind and Fire horn section), and none of the boring technical stuff. I knew he'd benefit from someone teaching him a more disciplined approach. I hired a teacher.

My son really enjoys his trumpet lessons. He's improving as a musician every single week. And the cool thing for me, I haven't been left out.

At the end of each lesson, his trumpet teacher and I start talking shop. We trade knowledge about mutes and mouthpieces, share stories about gigging, reminisce about songs we've both played, swap anecdotes about cool cats we've hung with (yeah, he talks like that), name-drop like crazy about famous musicians we've met, tell funny stories about playing in a band that only other musicians would relate to. The trumpet teacher and I are part of an ad-hoc fraternity that anyone who has ever played an instrument beyond high school can relate to.

My son sits and listens to these war stories with a smile on his face. Maybe he's looking forward to his own future experiences.

Or maybe he thinks his dad is pretty cool.

David Mott authors the blog Dad's House - Dating and Parenting by a Single Dad.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

The Marriage Contract

Well I have posted this on my blog way back yonder and it was a big hit and I was asked about it recently I relinked it and again folks liked it. I figured I'd post it here, hell if it helps one person then it will be worth it.

** Note. It is not the content in the contract that is important it is the method and the thought of it that is. I realize that many of you would not take her deal or mine. The contract will of course be different for each and every coupling. Obviously my contract is much much longer than what is listed here, though it didn't go into the minutia it does cover almost everything. Also, situations change so writing and absolute contract would never work, anyway here ya go.

Well I asked a while back about what to blog about and some of the things were my takes on things.
The thing I get asked about the most in real life is the marriage contract.
The Marriage Contract is something I thought up before I got married and has served me well for however long I have been married, 10-13 years. It is very simple and positive to make marriage easier if both people are honest about what they write into the contract. I think unmarried folks should think about this. ( I wrote this post way back and haven't posted it, but just last week my buddy was over planting a dove field and he was talking about it, about me meeting with his bro and his fiancee, my buddy of course had all the details pre-wedding and of course didn't do it but is now the biggest promoter of it!)

I get questioned about it all the time and inevitably folks don't follow through with it and then in 3 years when they are bitching about their marriage and I ask about the contract they just say man I should have done it.

The contract came about because my married friends were always bitching about he doesn't do this, she won't do that and always ended up with if i'da known he/she was going to act like this/that or the other I'd have run her/his ass off before we married.

People always see the wonderful, great stuff about being married, its all going to be beer and wings then when they get married they see that the shit is tough. So I was trying to address the little shit before I said I would. See the bride had been after me to wed her for about 8 of the 10 years we courted, so I got to studying on it and decided if we could agree then I would. See in my mind a wedding is nothing more that a business deal. The problem being that most folks don't lay out the terms of the deal prior to shaking on it. I have been in several partnerships and in each we broke the deal down to the smallest details before doing anything, that way everyone knew where they stood.

So here is how it went down.

I said ok you wanna get married, suits me. Go get 2 trapper keepers and come up here to the table. She did and she sat on one side and I sat on the other. I said ok, I want you to write down everything you intend to do in this marriage and I will do the same.

We did that.

then I said ok, next page.
Now you write everything you believe I should/will do in this marriage and I will do the same.
We did that.

Then we looked and compared both. We tried to merge them and saw some sticking points, we discussed them one at a time. So then we went back and re-wrote them and merged them and discussed, re-wrote, merged, discussed. This went on for about 2 days. Just conversing, not fighting.

What we came up with was the marriage contract.
I have it still and have had to bust it out 3-4 times but usually when we start arguing if it was something addressed in the contract it kills that right now.

The contract reads something like this (each point is spelled out on the contract but it would be the longest post in history if I typed it all):

I have zero responsibility in the house. I don't clean, wash, sweep, vacuum, or any other thing in the house. I do not cook, help cook, clean up cooking stuff. I do not wash, dry or fold clothes. I do zero household chores.

I do haul the trash (yeah I live in BFE we haul our trash off)
I do mow the grass
I do yard work but not pertaining to the 9765446898 plants she has out there.

She is expected to do nothing in the yard
She is not expected to earn any income, ever.
She is never expected to be employed ever.
She is not expected to handle investments but is expected to pay the bills (actually write the checks out).
She is expected to keep the house tidy (not spic and span)
She is in charge of all spending, but I retain veto power on any spending. (she is damn sure the best purchasing department in the history of mankind, she can by god spend some damn money)
She tends the brood ( I have changed diapers though twice, one per rugrat.)

If she denies me relations 3 days in a row (initial wording was 3 times in a row but we changed it because she was complaining if I got morning sex I would ask 3 times before lunch) then I have a get outta jail free card.
If I ever turn her down once then she has one.

It is my responsibility to ensure she has adequate transportation and to keep said vehicle maintained. I am responsible for making sure all needed things like planning for our economic future, making sound financial decisions, doing a monthly budget with her every month, everything except insurance she handles that because I hate insurance second only to taxes.

Of course shit comes up that isn't addressed but most things are covered under some section of the contract. I had never heard, and still haven't, of anyone else pimping this plan. It really has worked well. If both folks are honest about things, then you can handle shit pre-fuck up. In the least it allows you to prove someone said they would do something.

I know one other guy that has done it and he also raves about it. Hell you might even find out you should run like you are on fire from whoever is sitting across the table!!

That is pretty much it. It is spelled out in far greater detail in the contract but thats the crux of it. The best part of it is it was agreed upon prior to any formal partnership. Everyone knows what to expect so the surprises are few.

The damnedest thing about it is she thinks she won.

There ya go. Not heard on Dr. Phil, Dr. Laura or Okra!


Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Tribute to Snooty Bitches

     Partly due to an extremely busy life the past couple of months, I have been dragging my ass about posting on HotDads. Then on Friday, I was called on to the Daddy carpet (good-naturedly), and encouraged to post by some Hot Dad loyalists before my lazy ass was shown the door.
     All that being said, here I am with my tale...and for those of you who know me, this is my Tuesday Tribute to a couple of snooty bitches I met yesterday who ultimately I discovered could not be counted on for a shred of humanity.

You see, my beautiful wife and I are in month 6 of looking for acceptable bedding to adorn our chamber of love, or as I am proud to call it, "The Speed Zone". We have exhausted thousands of stores in search of appropriate comforters/sheets/etc to set the stage, and have not found anything that would stand up to our lifestyles. Make all the assumptions you want.

So in an effort to maximize some daylight hours while the kids napped, I ran out to Costco to grab a couple of deckchairs, and then headed to a store we had not explored yet, at the request of my wife, called Hemispheres.

In my hurry to leave the house, I had quickly thrown on a pair of shorts, a tshirt my wife had just purchased for me, and thrown a fleece on top. Grab my flipflops, and run. With all the hauling of deckchairs around Costco, I was rather warm once I got back out to the car, so I removed my fleece. Drove to Hemispheres. Hop out of the car, head into what turned out to be the Nirvana of Duvets.

So, in I go. Tshirt, shorts, flipflops, and a fat wallet, ready to spend whatever necessary to euthanize Sheetsearch 2008-9. This being a high end furniture store in a bad economic climate, I am instantly assaulted by two salesbeauties ready to service my every retail need. And I mean, I'm excited. Not only because I am already seeing bedding that looks like it is gonna be a winner with the real decision maker, but also because the staff and customers in this place seem to rival the Hollywood elite. As crappy as I look in my torn cargo shorts and brand spankin' new rocker tshirt, I know there's a good chance that now I am around the pretty people,  my look may be interpreted as trendy instead. Lookin' good, sir.

The plastic people ask if I need help, give me a coupon flier, and quickly retreat from me. Hmm...odd, thought they'd be pushier. Check my pits for offending aroma, and continue with my search.

Got a over Barbie. She doesn't look too taken with me, must be the wedding ring. Because I look SWEET, and I've got cash dollas to spend, yo.

Another question...kinda feel like I have to drag the gal over this time. What the hell? Honey, I may not be 185 anymore, but I am LOVED in Belgium, AND I'm a Hot Dad. Might be overestimating my chub-ass in these cargo shorts.

Final question...can't even get the gals to leave the counter for this one...and my self confidence is now circling the toilet bowl. But I have great news for the wife, so I'm headed home.

When I emerge from the car and begin unloading chairs, my wife walks up. She takes one look at me, and with a grimacing smile, she says "Oh honey, you're gonna be so embarrassed."

She points at my shirt.

You see, I'm a Hot Dad. And I'm bringin' sexy back to retail.

And to you snooty bitches, this Tuesday Tribute is for you. Next time, how 'bout fucking saying something? Pretend that even though you're 75% plastic, that you still have a heart under all that glitter lotion and silicone. In this emaciated economic climate, you just lost a customer. I will never again set foot in your store.

I mean, after we buy your fucking comforter.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Lessons learned

Things I've learned in the 8+ yrs I've been a dad...

  • Be a good husband. Show his mom respect at all times
  • Teach him to keep a secret
  • Set a strict bedtime as he's growing up. Boys need their sleep
  • Let him know that he's never too old to take a nap
  • Don't let him sleep in your bed, even if he's scared or sick. Sleep on the floor in his room
  • Teach him to garden. It involves 3 things boys love- dirt, digging, and water hoses
  • Accept the fact he just might play with dolls. It's no big deal
  • Ask him what he did today. Listen to his answers
  • Teach him how to dial 911, when and why
  • Show him how to throw a punch. Then raise him to never start a fight. And teach him to walk away
  • Take him on hikes and show him how to ford a stream. Let him get wet and dirty
  • Let him hang out with you. Remember, he has to be around you, to learn what being a man is all about
  • Reassure him he won't die if he spills a little blood
  • Take your son to work with you every once in a while. Pay as much attention to him as you do other people in the office
  • Tell him sometimes you're wrong
  • Give him responsibility
  • Make sure he knows he's always safe at home
  • Don't tolerate temper tantrums. Not now. Not when he's 15. The world won't
  • Scream at him and you will raise a screamer
  • Don't let him quit out of frustration. He won't learn anything
  • His favorite game for a long time will be playing with you. Be available, even when you're tired. Even when the presentation went south. Be available
  • Insist he play outside a lot. It's much healthier than watching TV or playing computer games
  • Never forget that you can't hug or cuddle or kiss a young boy too much
  • Never tell him boy don't cry. Ask him why he's crying
  • Teach him to respect authority but not to be in awe of it
  • Encourage friendships with the white kid, the black kid, and the oriental kid who can barely speak English
  • Don't forget the point of sports when you're a kid is to have fun
  • Last but not least: Teach him that he can pick his friends and he can pick his nose but he can't pick his friends nose! Bwahaha...
That's all for now.
[Many of these were taken from "Father to Son: Life lessons on raising a boy" by Harry Harrison. I'm not smart enough to learn all of this on my own.]

Ask the Hot Dads - Week 3 update

The Hot Dads have enjoyed dropping our science on you for the past few weeks. You worked us hard, so this week let's just say we're in our refractory period. We'll be back next week with fresh knowledge all cooked up for you.

While we wait this is your chance to tell us what you wanna know. We fear no subject. We will answer anything and rock your world doing it. Relationship questions? Take a peek into the minds of guys. Want to know something specific about the Hot Dads? We're here for you. Go know you want to.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Sunday Slides, Funny, Caption Contest

The Cowboy Boots
(Anyone who has ever dressed a child will love this one!)

Did you hear about the Texas teacher who was helping

One of her kindergarten students put on his cowboy boots?

He asked for help and she could see why.

Even with her pulling and him pushing, the little boots still

Didn't want to go on. By the time they got the second boot on,

She had worked up a sweat.

She almost cried when the little boy said, 'Teacher,

They're on the wrong feet.' She looked, and sure enough,

They were. It wasn't any easier pulling the boots off than

It was putting them on. She managed to keep her cool as

Together they worked to get the boots back on, this time

On the right feet.

He then announced, 'These aren't my boots.'

She bit her tongue rather than get right in his face and scream,

'Why didn't you say so?', like she wanted to. Once again, she

Struggled to help him pull the ill-fitting boots off his little

Feet. No sooner had they gotten the boots off when he said,

'They're my brother's boots. My Mom made me wear'em.'

Now she didn't know if she should laugh or cry. But, she

Mustered up what grace and courage she had left to wrestle

The boots on his feet again.

Helping him into his coat, she asked, 'Now, where are your Mittens?'

He said, 'I stuffed 'em in the toes of my boots.'

She will be eligible for parole in three years.


1. Male Brain

2. Female Brain

haaaaaaaaa thats funny right there! And true!

3. hehe and no bitching either!
A man walks into a restaurant with a full-grown ostrich behind him. The waitress asks them for their orders.

The man says, "A hamburger, fries and a coke," and turns to the ostrich, "what's yours?"

"I'll have the same," says the ostrich.

A short time later the waitress returns with the order "That will be $9.40, please," and the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out the exact change for payment.

The next day, the man and the ostrich come again and the man says, "A hamburger, fries and a coke."

The ostrich says, "I'll have the same."

Again the man reaches into his pocket and pays with exact change.

This becomes routine until the two enter again. "The usual?" asks the waitress.

"No, this is Friday night, so I will have a steak, baked potato and a salad," says the man.

"Same," says the ostrich.

Shortly the waitress brings the order and says, "That will be $32.62."

Once again the man pulls the exact change out of his pocket and places it on the table.

The waitress cannot hold back her curiosity any longer. "Excuse me, sir. How do you manage to always come up with the exact change in your pocket every time?"

"Well," says the man, "several years ago, I was cleaning the attic and found an old lamp. When I rubbed it, a Genie appeared and offered me two wishes. My first wish was that if I ever had to pay for anything, I would just put my hand in my pocket and the right amount of money would always be there."

"That's brilliant!" says the waitress. "Most people would ask for a million dollars or something, but you'll always be as rich as you want for as long as you live!"

"That's right. Whether it's a gallon of milk or a Rolls Royce, the exact money is always there," says the man.

The waitress asks, "What's with the ostrich?"

The man sighs, pauses and answers, "My second wish was for a tall chick with a big butt and long legs who agrees with everything I say."

4. I don't know where this is but I need to go there for sure.

5. Who needs a woody?

Caption contest...............

No mom you'll like him! I promise he is soooo cool! Just like dad!

Well there ya go. Steal the jokes or the pictures or whatever, give us your best shot at the caption.
More slides in Sageville of course.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Comment, comment on my blog...Who's the hottest of them all?

While looking at our track record of posts and comments, it surprised me to find that there are 2 Hot Dads that have not posted anything yet and 3 that have only posted one time.

I am asking for your support here….beg these guys to get with the program and prove their hotness. Go to their blogs and harass them. Ladies…maybe you could bribe them for me….send them some sexy pics or something. I kind of think that me sending a pic of my ‘tent pole’ would have quite a negative effect.

The following is the latest in statistics for Hot Dad posts and comments:

TentCamper / BedsideTalesMan – 27 Posts with a total of 356 Comments

Southern Sage – 10 Posts with a total of 154 Comments
Daddy Geek Boy – 5 Posts with a total of 112 Comments
Irish Gumbo – 4 Posts with a total of 72 Comments
Coachdad – 4 Posts with a total of 67 Comments
Trooper Thorn – 4 Posts with a total of 58 Comments
Hubman – 4 Posts with a total of 41 Comments
Cameron – 3 Posts with a total of 74 Comments
Russ – 3 Posts with a total of 46 Comments
Dadshouse – 2 Posts with a total of 44 Comments
Single Parent Dad – 2 Posts with a total of 26 Comments
LiteralDan 1 Post with a total of 16 Comments
Always Home and Uncool 1 Posts with a total of 13 Comments
cIII 1 Post with a total of 16 Comments
Heinous 0 Posts with a total of 0 Comments
Halftime Lessons 0 Posts with a total of 0 Comments

Regardless….I’d like to thank all of these HOT contributors…especially that sexy TentCamper guy...c'mon...say it! What's my name bitch?

I am showing my link love…so the least you can do is show us all some comment love…or your boobs!

Thursday, April 2, 2009

MILFy is...Hot Boobs Or A Great Ass?

OK…so I posted this the other day on I Pee In The Wind and after the comments started rolling in…I thought that I should re-post it with some clarification.

I am talking about that ONE physical attribute on a women’s body that gets your blood moving. Come on ladies, you can play too. I KNOW that you find the woman’s body attractive. (c’mon…say that you don’t. I knew that you couldn’t)

I can also tell you another way that I know that women find women hot… when you are walking with your man (or woman) and you are about to walk by someone that you think is hot, you automatically watch us out of the corner of your eye…to see if we are going to check them out.

I love every part of a woman…shit…that’s not true. I HATE feet. But besides that, it’s all good. I can be an ass man and still love tweaking nipples and playing with fun bags.

So once again...

As with all living things…we as humans have types. By type I mean that thing we say when describing qualities that attract us to one another. Let me rephrase that…”I am an ass man.” I say that because saying “I am a lips man” or “I am an eyes man” sounds kind of …un manly. Those are, in fact, the three physical attributes in a woman that can make me come to attention…so to speak.

*To Mariah: You have incredible eyes and lips and if I go more than a few hours without inappropriately staring at your ass…or giving it a good slap…I get the shakes and go into withdrawals.

OK…back to my pre-disclaimer thought. I think that I’d say I like butts and lips evenly and eyes come in a close second. If you have all three (like my baby) consider yourself special.

Don’t get me wrong ladies, I know that what is on the inside is more important and looks only get you so far…yada yada. I am NOT talking about love…nor even wanting to strike up a conversation with anyone. Just that thing that catches your eye at first glimpse. You ladies have it too…buff chest, six pack abs…a large bulge in the pants, etc. You know…that thing that lets us know that we are still alive.

I am not sure, nation-wide…or world wide where I’d fit in the percentages…Are there more ass men than boob men? Speaking of boob men…they are kind of funny. The boob men that I know are like scavengers, in my book. It seems that they look at every set that walks by. Big, small, real, fake, firm and perky, droopy and low…all of them. Maybe some guys become boob men because it is the easiest part of a woman’s body to see. To get a good read on an ass takes the right angle, the right outfit…and even then you sometimes never know.

**another disclaimer – after checking out Google Analytics, it seems that the terms Boobs, Hot boobs and MILF tend to send a lot of traffic my way. Anyway, with asses it is different, at least for me. I don’t like NOR LOOK AT; XL, inverted, slanty, extra wide, too high or too low butts. I like a butt with some meat…making it a nice ‘round mound of fun’ I’d post a picture of Mariah’s sexy ass for you to all check out but Webster’s has a copyright of the image for their new dictionary.

See what kind of nonsense looking at Analytics can make people write?

Anyway…What is the ONE thing ??????

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Where Are The Settings For The Body Clock?

This morning (Sunday) we had the switching of time here, as we lost an hour as we sprang forward into summer, for British Summer Time.

Get the barbeque out.

But don’t forget the patio heater too.

I’ve never really understood, like most of the northern hemisphere, why there is a need to change the clocks, as to best use the daylight hours that we get.

I mean, if the industry you’re in can make better use of starting the day earlier, then start the day earlier, and vica-versa.

No need for us all, and all our clock bearing devices, to be updated.

My weekend was further complicated by the fact that technology appears to be in a bit of a limbo, and that I needed to rely on it to make our Sunday our success.

See my son had been invited to two parties, and then there was an event at his proposed school in the afternoon.

It was all set up quite nicely, an early start, but all these activities were lined up nicely for an action packed day.

The first party was due to start at 10:00, at a place about 20 minutes by car away. Working backwards this meant we had to be up two hours before to give me enough time to get us both washed, dressed and fed breakfast.

08:00 on a Sunday would be a lie in, no need for an alarm clock.

But as we were losing an hour, 8 actually became 7 and we did indeed need an alarm call, just in case we slept passed that hour.

My alarm setting dilemma was if my phone would auto-update the time, thus I could set that alarm for 8 to get 7, if you get my drift.

I wasn’t sure, so I also set my archaic radio alarm for 07:00 as I knew that wouldn’t auto-update.

As it happens, both alarms went off at the appropriate times, and we were both up anyway.

I was also pleased we had such a busy day, as I hoped it would tire my boy out more than usual, so I could get him into bed an hour before he went yesterday, regardless of what his R2-D2 clock said.

I’ve been met half-way, and will be interested to see what time ‘we’ are up tomorrow.

Whatever time it is I hope it isn’t cold, that reminds me, I must go change the times on our under-floor heating and conventional heating systems.

Toodle pip.
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