Monday, November 10, 2014

I am (still) getting old

In the last few years I've looked for the defining moment when I officially got old and the good times officially ended. After much searching, I believe I've found that moment. It was the moment I had to buy this:
That's right: a nose hair and ear hair trimmer. Honestly, when I was younger I imagined that by the time I turned 32 I would have more money and less nose hair, but here we are.
Getting older used to freak me out, but now I've made peace with it and I kind of enjoy it. I feel myself getting more curmudgeonly with each day.

I balk at prices. I say things like, "This costs how much?" and "Let me see that receipt!" and "Didn't this use to come with more?" A close cousin of price-balking is cheapness. I just bought $11 shoes on clearance that I don't like at all. They're ugly, but they match my shirt which is covered in baby spit up and my pants which are covered in toddler grime.

I criticize what people who are younger than me are wearing, like, "Why is everyone in yoga pants all the time? Like, you just got out of yoga class, or you're perpetually on your way to yoga class? I don't buy it."

I've also said, "Everyone is always texting me. Why don't people ever call anymore?"

I have problems with some new music. Whenever we're listening to the radio in the car, I'm always raging: "They're not even trying with these lyrics! They're just rhyming things! I wonder how many copies 'downloaded.'"

When you get married you get someone to grow old with, literally. My wife and I were driving and there were several songs in a row about "live like we've only got tonight" and my wife snapped. She said, "Why are all the songs about this cliched nonsense? Why doesn't somebody write a song that's like, 'plan for your future, open up a checking account and start building credit' or something like that!"

I looked at her, and in that moment I realized that we are going to be an amazing old couple.

Monday, October 13, 2014

Birth Story


My wife had Baby #2. She labored like a champ for a day and a night and I just want to mention that for most of the time a woman is in labor in a hospital, there's no doctor there. The nurses say there's a doctor there, but there isn't. They say things like, "The doctor says to increase your pitocin," but it's an illusion, like the Wizard of Oz. The doctor might have called on the phone or whatever, but they're nowhere near that hospital. They might roll out of bed and drive over in their Mercedes if things get wild, but until then: we all know there's no doctor.

When a doctor did finally arrive she congratulated my wife on all of her hours of labor and announced that the baby would need to be ripped out aka "delivered via cesarean section."

Bummer.

When we were in the operating room the OB and her staff we're just talking away about the stupidest things, such as: "Have you tried that new burger place? You can get a bacon cheeseburger with a fried egg on top, and then a chocolate milkshake with bacon bits in it.”

I wanted to shout, “Can you idiots please focus!"

Right here I wrote some more details about the c-section operation, but it's just a drag so I edited it out, which is not to say I'm not glad my son is here, because I am, even though he still looks like wrinkly old man. Through the whole bloody ordeal my main thought was: There has to be a less violent way to make people.

My wife was upbeat and serene and it got me thinking. Moms go through all that pain for their child, who they don't even know. He could grow up to be a murderer or a lawyer or a Republican for all they know, but they do it anyway. That level of selflessness and sacrifice blows my mind.

Welcome to the world, Baby #2. I will never forget the day you were born.

Monday, August 4, 2014

Toddler Stand Up OR What's the deal with parents?


My son likes to make my wife and I laugh. He gets the biggest thrill when we double up laughing at something he says or does, and now that he's getting older he's developing his own sense of humor and he's like a very small, very messy comedian.

He tells a lot of jokes that only a toddler gets (maybe I just don't get it or he's ahead of his time). The punchline to almost every joke is: "And then I run away!" A typical Junior joke goes something like this: "We play at the library toddler gibberish my friend Mark toddler gibberish then I run away!" He's got a million of 'em, always with the same punchline, and we laugh our heads off.

There's also some observational humor where he's riffing on my wife and me. The other day he said, "'Go potty, go potty.' I already go potty, daddy! What?" He says that little "What?" after each of these type of jokes, like Seinfeld's "What's the deal with...?" Another joke is, "No more juice? I want juice. I like juice. What?"

And now he has started to incorporate impressions into his act with dangerous results. My wife is 8 months pregnant and he went up to her and stuck out his little three-year-old belly, made an angry face and said, "I have a baby! RAWR!"

My wife was not amused, but not being pregnant myself I found the impression to be very funny.

Well kid, I guess you're not for everyone.