Idiot Dad of the Week

There are times when things just don't go as planned. More recently, that's happened a lot with our Idiot Dad of the Week. Dads are supposed to be there for their children. Dads are required to take care of their kids and make sure that nothing bad or harmful happens to them. Sometimes Dads are not as careful and don't think things through very well. It usually is not planned and happens without thinking of possible scenarios afterwards.

It's with this behavior our first Idiot Dad of the Week was awarded this prize..

Without further adieu we present Eric Bolton as Idiot Dad of the Week.

Date: Sunday 03-28-10
Location: The Bathroom
Time: Bath Time

As per usual, it was bath time in Boltonshire. Eric usually bathes the children at night one at a time versus bathing three kids at once. He says it's to prevent bath time drama. He usually bathes Celi first, then Disco, and Ladybug is last.

Since Ladybug is older, she uses her mother's hair and body products. One such product her father had not been using is the AVON Strawberry Body Soap. Ladybug would keep reminding him after the bath saying it makes her smell "beautiful".

Eric remembered on this day.

Ladybug was excited as her dad put the soap on the washcloth. She wanted her father to smell the pleasant aroma and he did. Ladybug wanted to smell it next so her father held out his hand with the cloth and soap.

Here's what seals the award for this week.

As Ladybug goes down to smell the soap, Eric lifts his hand up to smear the soap on her nose and cheeks.


Ladybug INHALED the exact second it hit her nose


Ladybug laughed at first because she thought it was funny. But then her smile turned upside down and she started screaming BLOODY HELL MURDER!!!

Eric tried to get her to blow her nose because he thought it was irritating her nostrils.

But she couldn't.

He tried to dig the soap out with toilet paper.

No soap.

She then asked for water, which Eric poured for her.

More screaming.

The soap went UP her nose and was now in the back of her throat.

She asks for a popsicle because her throat is burning. She remembers this treatment from when her tonsils were removed. Eric wraps her in a towel and carries her to the kitchen. Her mother asks what is going on and Eric tells her while expecting to be struck down where he stood.

No striking.

Ladybug starts coughing and saliva and bubbles come out of her mouth. She eventually vomits A LOT and calms down. She takes her popsicle, gets dressed, lays on the couch and falls asleep.

She no doubt was thinking of how her Daddy violated her trust.

No word on if Eric still is responsible for bathing duties.

So congratulations Eric, you IDIOT!!!


Babies in Beards - Season 2 Week 4


Do you want your baby featured in "Babies in Beards"?? Because honestly, this can only go so far before I shelf it again, right?? Email me a link of your baby you want me to beard. C'mon, show a little child deprecation. They'll get over it. It might take years of counseling, but live in the now.
Have a great day my friends.


Diary of a Mad Greek Woman

Friday night I was witness to my son's UIL One Act Play, Medea.  Now I know what you're saying, "Eric, you're son's not black."  Well you're right.  He wasn't in Tyler Perry's Madea, but the Greek tragedy Medea.

MaddSkillz played the part of "Son 1" or maybe "Son 2". Whatever "Son" he was the other "son" was actually played by a girl.

MaddSkillz would complain that he would have to cut his hair a certain way for the play.  He would also have to keep it that way if they happen to advance to higher division levels.  But after seeing his "brother" having the same haircut.  I told him I didn't want to hear it.

Medea is the story of Medea, a scorn woman in Greece.  Jason, her husband, had left her and her two sons to be with the king's daughter.  Medea get's all Madea on everyone, kills the king, his daughter, and then her own sons, just to stick it to Jason.

Ever since MaddSkillz landed his first part in a school play I've been extremely proud of him.  So sitting in the audience prior to his performance, I couldn't stop my eyes from tearing up.

The play hadn't even started yet and here I was crying like a fool.

I was glad when the lights went out because KC wouldn't have been the only one to see me in my emotional state.

He was one of only a few freshmen in the play.  At first he was upset because he was playing the part of a kid again.  He had played the part of "Little Jake" in Annie Get Your Gun earlier in the year.  But we had told him that he's only starting in high school and he has to earn the big parts in time.

His character was killed off stage and even though I wanted him too, he did not take any liberties with his death scene.  It didn't matter, I was extremely proud of him and the work he put into his part.

How was your weekend?  Also, please don't forget about my Sausage Sweepstakes ending on Wednesday.

Have a great week my friends.


Build a Taller Fence

After dinner on Sunday, I was helping my wife set up her Avon Blog as the kids were playing in the back yard. They have a play set and a trampoline that were donated by their Cool Uncle Evan. For a while, the kids were scared to go outside because Happy would accost them. He has such been scared by my daughter's constant high piercing screams trained to stay away and chill why they are outside.

Everything was pointing to a normal evening until Ladybug opens the door and said,

"The boy next door gave me this flower."

There she was at the doorway holding a dandelion between her fingertips.

Are you kidding me!?!?!?

MaddSkillz said I looked like this.

Notice the broken heart.

Have you ever seen Face/Off with John Travolta and Nicolas Cage? Remember when the daughter stabbed Castor Troy in the leg and then twisted it. The purpose was that it would be pretty hard if not impossible to fix.

That's how my heart felt.

Mainly because I thought about the boy next door that would give my daughter a flower. The kid runs into the street all the time without looking.

Heck, I've almost run over him a few times.

She leaves and comes back and says that he wants to play with her. I advised her she could play with him THROUGH THE CHAIN LINKED FENCE!!

KC looks outside and it's not the three year old street runner (of course not, he's probably out in the street) but his older SIX YEAR OLD BROTHER

Now that's something the President and I can agree on.

I look out the window and there's this six year old manipulator of four year old girl's minds. Ladybug comes back inside with two more flowers. One for KC and one for me.

Oh he's good.

I told her the rule that we've told MaddSkillz many times:

No dating until your sixteen!!

And I made a little amendment in this situation:

And the only time dating a boy 2 years older than you will be acceptable is when you're in your mid twenties!!

She went back outside and Little Lothario and her were talking through the fence. Then she ran to one side of the yard and then ran back. It turns out they were racing. He raced to the other side of his yard and whoever got back to the fence first won.

He won.

But I know it was because he didn't explain the rules in full to Ladybug. She had stopped at the far fence and when he started running back so did she. Her delay cost her the "W".

He went inside and she went to jump on the trampoline.

When she came inside, that's all she could talk about. Her new friend and how they were going to play together after he gets home from school.

They're making dates already?!?!

I had to rethink T-Ball. Do I want my daughter in with a bunch of boys who will give her weeds from left field? Then I remembered that my daughter is the Queen of Awesomeshire when it comes to T-Ball and she's too good for the boys on that team.

Plus there's girls she hangs out with there.

Why couldn't we have a girl neighbor?

I know I need to calm down. It's just kids being kids. But is this the beginning of the end? Is this where she'll realize that Daddy isn't the only man in her life.

Aside from her brothers and grandfathers of course.

Chance are that when she starts school in the fall she'll talk about friends and a boy's name will be included.

Which is why I've decided that KC will home school my daughters.

After the flower exchange, KC thought it was a great time to go talk to Little Lothario's mother about AVON.

I took the opportunity to put a sign in our yard.

And while I'm waiting for an offer, I'm going to build a taller fence.

Have a great weekend my friends.

Be sure to check out and catch other Dads who would probably react the same way I did with Fatherhood Friday.

Also, if you missed it. Check out my Abe Froman Giveaway. Giveaway ends 03-31-10.


Abe Froman Called: Giveaway #1

Because I couldn't get enough net traffic based on my part time job, Bryan which is the Flavor of the South, got in contact with me to review a couple of their products and sponsor a give away.

My Feedburner stats are sure to go up on this one.

I received a 16 oz package of Bryan Smoked Sausage Links and a package of Bryan Beef Cocktail Smokies Smoked Sausage for review.

The initial email from the public relations liaison suggested some recipe ideas for me which consisted of:

Cocktail Smokies Bagel Dogs; Cocktail Smokies in Peach Barbecue Sauce;Cocktail Smokies with sauerkraut and Apple Sauce; Italian-Style Smoked Sausage Sandwich; Smoked Sausage Jambalaya; Smoked Sausage Spicy Kabobs.

These along with other recipes can be found on their website at

While these seemed like good choices, I thought about my family and felt I needed to go with a more practical approach.

We first tried the Bryan Smoked Sausage Links.

I cut the links in I don't know, half-inch pieces and browned them in a skillet. I also browned a cup and a half of white rice.

I added Seasoning Salt, Ground Comino, Garlic Salt, Salt and Pepper to the rice while browning. I couldn't tell you how much I used, because here in San Antonio and probably most of the South, we don't measure seasonings. We just pour, sprinkle, dash, sift however much we feel is correct.

When the browning of both parties were complete, I combined the two in a large skillet along with a can of drained whole corn, an 8oz. can of tomato sauce and 3 cups of a chicken broth water concoction.

I then mixed them all together and let it return to a slow rolling boil. Actually I don't know if it's called that, and it's not like it returned because it previously wasn't boiling. I just wanted to make it seem like I honestly know what I'm talking about. Once it starts boiling, reduce heat to "LO", cover, and let simmer for 25 minutes. The finished confection looks like this.

Thinking about it, this looks like a lot of Kibbles and Bits, I assure you it is not. We served on warm tortillas and enjoyed.

The kids enjoyed it. Even though Celi was sick, she ate what she could. Disco, who is in this phase of not wanting to eat, actually ate all of it. Ladybug just ate the sausage. Both KC and I though the sausage was good as well.

Afterwards I asked Disco if he likes the sausage, he told me yes. I then asked him what he would give it, he held up three fingers. I'm not sure what scale he was going off of, but let's assume it was out of five.

The one package would not have been enough to feed my family (6 eat, 1 nurses). Which is why I had to go the more practical route and make it into something that would garnish leftovers.


A couple days later, KC popped out the Bryan Beef Cocktail Smokies Smoked Sausage for the kids lunch. She opened the package and emptied the contents into a small pan. She then drowned the poor smokies in Hunts BETTER TASTING Original Barbecue Sauce.

She brought to a small bubbly boil and served along side with Macaroni and Broccoli. The result was this.

The kids REALLY enjoyed this one. They ate all their lunch. Again, we've had recent problems with them (except Celi) wanting to finish their food. But they finished this meal as well.

They all really liked them served this way and here are pictures to prove it.

The Smokies are ideal for appetizers as well. But again, practicality is king when it comes to feeding my family.
Like I mentioned before, Bryan has other ideas for you to try out that may be more suitable for the size of your family.
And now....
Bryan Foods agreed to give away the same products I tried, a 16 oz package of Bryan Smoked Sausage Links and a package of Bryan Beef Cocktail Smokies Smoked Sausage.

It may not seem like much, but it covered a couple of meals with my family and even gave us left overs in both cases.


There are a few ways to enter:
Required Entry: Leave a comment saying you want some sausage.
Additional Entries (each entry must be a unique comment):
-Subscribe to this blog in a reader and tell me you have
-Tweet this contest and leave a link to such tweet (Only one entry will count)
-Who is Abe Froman?
Sure it seems like a lot of rules for some sausage, but free food is free food. Who doesn't want a shot at free food??

Small Print
The winner will be selected randomly on The contest will be over on Wednesday 31st at 6pm CST. The winner will be notified by email and have 48 hours to reply. If there the winner does not reply, then I will pick someone else. If they don't reply, I'll just probably declare my mother in law the winner.

Also, for all you newbies who are doing it for the contest and will unsubscribe once the contest is over;
I will be hosting another giveaway next Thursday and this time, the winner will get a YEARS SUPPLY of the product. And I'm not talking anything like Turtle Wax of WD40, which can last a lifetime on one container.

Have a great day my friends.


Picture Retake

Remember picture day in school? Most of us would dress nice and put on our best face and take a picture. Then six to eight weeks later, we'd get a packet and say "WTH is that?!?"

The picture looks nothing like you. There wasn't multiple shots to see which one was the best. It was just a one time click.

I guess it didn't help that every picture after 6th grade made me look awkward. Visiting my grandparents house, my wife would see my old pictures and say "I probably wouldn't have dated you back in high school."

So apparently her standards dropped afterwards.

Now a days, my son can come home and there's an option for retakes if we don't like his picture. They just give us a proof and tell us to order on line. Yes it's more efficient, but where were you technology when my face cleared up a few weeks later?

Anyways, I was playing with my GPS the other day and when I got home it showed me this from Google Maps Street View.

This is my house. Look how dreary it is. You would probably think this is the normal after my post last week. But my house looks depressed. There's no sunshine, no light. This photo had to be taken in 2006-2007 time frame. I say that because there is no cars broken down in the driveway.

So, I would like to know who I need to talk to at Google to get a picture retake.

But it can't be anytime soon. My front yard is craptastic and not very attractive. Let me clean it up and I'll let you know when it's okay Google.

Can you find your house on street view? Do you approve or would you want a retake as well?


Babies in Beards - Season 2 Week 3


Do you want your baby featured in "Babies in Beards"?? Because honestly, this can only go so far before I shelf it again, right?? Email me a link of your baby you want me to beard. C'mon, show a little child deprecation. They'll get over it. It might take years of counseling, but live in the now.

Have a great day my friends.


The Weekend Wake Up: An Open Letter To My Daughter

The following is an open letter to my 16 month old daughter, Celi.

Dear Celi,

As you know, I enjoy our time together. When you come up to me and hug my legs or put your head in my lap when I'm sitting down, I can't help but smile.

I love the fact that we have our own inside jokes. Like when you say, "Daddy, POPPET!!" or "Daddy, PTTTTTTTTTTTPH" I know that you are specifically sharing something with me that few receive.

And then at random times when you say. "Daddy, I love you." My heart melts.

But one thing does bother me.

This waking up in the middle of the night has got to stop. Like clockwork you wake up at 11pm almost every night. Usually if I sit you on the couch with some milk, you'll be ready to go back in 15-20 minutes.

But then you wake up again at 2AM.

What's up with that?!?!

I was hoping for at least one day of sleeping in this weekend.

I got none.

You have no fever, you haven't pooped, you just wake up crying.

I have no option but to get you out of your room because your screams are like delayed time bombs that will go off and wake up your siblings. So I have to get you out of the room or deal with three kids in the middle of the night. Now after this you feel like it's your little alone playtime.

Heaven forbid that we don't make it out of the room with your pacifier. If I go back in the room to look for it, I'll just hit one of the noisy toys and wake someone else up.

Sure I usually have a back up pacifier in the kitchen, but all of them have been lost. It's like a cycle, we lose them all then find them all. This actually might be a way to ween you off them eventually.

But this doesn't solve the issue of why you are waking up.

Are you having bad dreams? Do you have nightmares of Muno from Yo Gabba Gabba singing with you? Is it the only time of day where you won't be accosted by your older brother?

Your older sister had reflux, is that what's waking you up at night?

Your reflux, not your sisters.

Is it your teething??

Maybe you just know that's Celi and Daddy time.

How can I argue this because you're just so dang cute. I'm not going to compare you to your younger sister who sleeps through the night and she's not even 3 months yet. It wouldn't be fair.

Know that I'll always come when you call me, Celi Belly.

Even at 2Am.

I may be a bit groggy and grumpy, but I will still come.

But I won't mind if you wait a few hours.

Like six.

I love you Poppet. See you tonight.


PoV: Luke

This is from Creative Copy Challenge. The object is to use ten words and build a cohesive story. The ten words are bold. Original Post

Luke Tenpenny walked along the sidewalk towards his Theatre Arts class in Shepherd Hall. This was his second semester teaching at Meadow Brook University. Luke looked at his watch.

8:10, Crap!

Luke was running late on the first day of class. It didn’t help that his wife, Alicia spent the better part of the morning nagging at him about staying out at the Welcome Back Dance all night.

He stepped up his pace when his phone rang.

Great, now to hear more of it.

He answered the phone.

“Hey Sweetheart!”

“You didn’t take the trash out this morning. The pizza boxes are still in the kitchen and the aroma is disgusting.”

“I’m sorry, Sweetie. You know I was running late. Can you take it to the curb please?”

“I guess I don’t have a choice now do I?”

“Hey Mister Tennpenny!!”

Sylvia Blanca, a student of his last semester comes up to him and hands him a flyer for the Tri-Delt Gumbo Cook off.

“’s going to be this Saturday outside the quad. All the Deltas would love it if you could be a judge.”
Alicia was still going off in his ear.

“Yeah, sure Sylvia. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cool beans, Mister Tennpenny. I’m on Facebook. Let me know.”

Then she takes off handing out more flyers.

“Who the hell was that?”

“A student, why?”

“I could hear how she would sing your name.”

“Can you give it a rest, ‘Licia? I need to get to class.”

It was useless to argue with her over the phone. Luke was getting irritated with her and his body language to show his frustration was obvious. He had passed the Hundred Year Tree. That’s where he proposed to Alicia their senior year. His outlook on life was different back then. Alicia was different back then. Everything changed after the miscarriage.

Luke noticed this creepy kid giving him the hairy eyeball.

What’s up with this guy?

Creepy Kid would not take his eyes off Luke. It was pissing him off more than he already was.

What is this kid’s problem??

He broke the stare down and continued his attention to Alicia.

“Listen, Sweetie. I’m sorry about the trash. If you could take it out for me please, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll bring home a movie tonight, okay?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Great. I’m almost to class, I’ll call you later. Bye Sweetie.”

“Bye Lucius.”


Luke hated his real name. What parent names their kids Lucius? He entered the building and into the class. The students were talking and texting waiting for him to get there. They turn their attention to their teacher.

“Okay Ramblers. Let’s get rambling!”

Everyone straightens up as Luke walks towards the front of the class.

“Welcome back, everyone. Sorry I’m late. I haven’t seen most of you since the New York Broadway trip. Did everyone who went have a good time??’

A student starts to tell about his experience in New York when the fire alarm starts blaring.

What the hell?

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The students start cheering thinking they’ll have to leave class.

“Everyone just hang on. This has to be some sort of glitch. Let me go check first.”

As Luke gets closer to the door, he hears what could be gun shots and people screaming.

What the hell is going on out there??

Luke opens the door and the world has gone berserk. Someone had pulled the fire alarm to lure people into the hallway and started shooting. It had only been about 20 seconds at the most, and carnage had enveloped Shepherd Hall.

Bodies were lying on the floor, lifeless. A girl in pajamas screams and tries to run around the bodies into the mess of people being slaughtered.

The seconds passed like minutes. He looked back at the shooter.

Creepy Kid??

Luke see’s the smile on Creepy Kid’s face. This was a game to him as he used his guns as life ending joysticks. And he was getting off to this. This was a game to him.

Luke didn’t take another second to take in the situation and charged at Creepy Kid. Too many people were losing their lives, he had to do something.

He hit Creepy Kid hard in the ribs. He felt a couple crack as he tackled him to the ground. Creepy Kid’s head smashed against the floor and dropped one of his guns. Luke grabs the gun, stands up and points it and yells at Creepy Kid.

“What the hell are you doing?!?! Let go of the other gun!!”

Luke could have been screaming at him through a microphone and Creepy Kid would not have registered anything with that glazed look on his face.

Was that his face before or after he hit the ground?

Creepy Kid smiles and points his gun at Luke.


They fire at the same time. Luke falls against the wall and slides down leaving a blood smear against the bulletin board. He sees blood coming out of his left shoulder. It takes a couple seconds to register the piercing pain coming from the same shoulder.

He looks over at Creepy Kid with blood coming out of his chest. Lifeless, with that same smile on his face.

Luke feels unconsciousness coming down on him. He manages to pull his phone from his pocket. He pushes the talk button twice.

Alicia picks up.


“Sorry about the movie, ‘Licia. I probably won’t make it. I love you as I always have.”

“Lucius, what’s going on? What happened?”

Luke’s eyes close as his hand falls to the floor.


The Baseball Gene

When I was a kid, I played Little League Baseball. I was average at best. I had my share of home runs and great plays. I started playing when I was ten years old, so I was behind the other kids who had been playing since T-Ball.

One thing that I excelled at was pitching. My second year playing (11 years old) I was a starting pitcher. The ages for the division were 8, 9, 10, and 11. After a three-quarters season of dominance, the league passed a rule that 11 year olds can not pitch in that division. Citing that the younger players were intimidated by me.

It was the first and only time anyone has ever been so in my life.

I played a few more years and quit in the middle of my fifth year because my coach was a tool. It is still one of a couple things I regret doing today.

But Little League didn't stop there. Every single one of my six siblings has played Little League, with my sister playing at the collegiate level. My dad and step mom were involved in the Little League board for quite a few years. Little League became the Bolton's life. There wasn't a weekend when we weren't at the ballpark for some reason.

I grew to hate baseball.

It was a reason that eventually lead to my parent's divorce after 18 years. Not the actual baseball part, but the politics and people involved.

I hated baseball even more.

Years later I became a dad. I was excited that MaddSkillz wanted to play. He was about the same age I was when I started. His first season we pulled him off for a disciplinary reason. Second season he broke his hand before the first game and sat on the bench the majority of the time. He took a year off and decided to play last year.

By this time he had found theatre and his heart was in that and not in baseball. When I had a chance to practice with him, he would complain about when we were going to stop. Since I had a crappy work schedule, I couldn't go to practices or games. The transportation was left to my wife alone with three babies. There was a problem with lack of organization with the league he was with.

My wife grew to hate baseball.

We decided that Ladybug needed some sort of activity which would wear her the stink out so we wouldn't have to deal with her not wanting to go to bed at a decent hour introduce her to social activity and teamwork. We gave her two options, soccer or baseball.

She chose baseball.

This week, Ladybug started T-Ball practice. It's not with the same unorganized league that MaddSkillz was playing with but a CYO league.

I don't know if I'm looking through Daddy Glasses, but my kids is a good T-Ball Player. She's wants to play and is excited about it all. She gets in front of grounders and throws the ball right to the person she is supposed too. She knows how to step when she throws, she put her hand over the ball when it comes into her glove (I could never get MaddSkillz to do that part, he would complain about some part of the process).

And she can hit!!

She can't crank it out of the infield yet, but give her time. When I get a tee for the backyard, I'll teach her how to position her feet so she can control where the ball can go. How she can hit grounders, line drives and pop flies.

It has to be the Bolton Baseball Gene.

Here's proof of her athletic ability.

Disco is all about playing too. Even with a broken arm, he's in the grass fielding balls.

I told KC Wednesday night that in two years when Disco is old enough, he can be on the same team as Ladybug.

She shook her head.

Then I said the three youngest (Disco, Celi, and Em) will be on the same team together (a year between each). Two which she channeled Whitney Houston and gave me a "Hell to the no!!!"


"Because baseball is boring, they're going to do dance or cheer leading."

"Yeah, the most dangerous athletic activity there is!!!"

She says that the Bolton Baseball Gene is not going to take over all the kids. Not that I want it too, but if they want to play it they can. I'm not going to be the father who is on the sidelines belittling the kid for not catching a ball or striking out. I knew that person. I lived with that person. They made baseball their life.

I actually don't care if the kids go different directions than baseball. It's just what I know and I feel accomplished when I teach them stuff they can use. I just want my kids to have fun with their lives.

As long as they intimidate the 8, 9, and 10 year olds.

Do your kids "genetically" lean towards something like a sport or creative talent that you or your spouse possess?

Have a great weekend my friends.

Be sure to check out other dads whose kids will be genetically leaning towards being awesome bloggers over at for Fatherhood Friday.


I'm In The Wrong Blogging Business

I started tracking my stats for this blog about a month and a half ago. I wanted to see how crappy my blog really was. I mean, after Intergalactic De-Lurker Day 2010 was a bust for me, I figured I really did have only three readers.

I was shocked when I saw I had as many numbers as I did. As of Monday, I had over 1400 page loads. That's pretty sweet right?

My mediocre blog has come a long way since I first started boring people with my boring family. Some of my readers are obligated because to read or just click the link because they are related to me by blood or marriage. There are others who are equally guilted into subscribing because I leave comments on their blogs.

But does that equate 1400 page loads since the beginning of February? Yeah it's only about 32 hits a day, but with averaging 5 comments a day?? There's something missing.

It has to be those people who find me via search engines. So I checked out the keyword analysis and realized I'm in the wrong blogging business.

Here's how people found me via Google, AOL, BING, et al:

PEG WUSSY - Uh thanks??

DORA AND DIEGO LIVE SHOWS IN UTAH 2010 - The fact that someone clicked on something that wasn't a website amazed me.

PICTURE OF SOMEONE WINNING THE SUPER MEGA LOTTERY - The ironic thing is, they found a picture of someone with a bad credit score.

"I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE HERE TODAY" QUOTE FROM MOVIE - Answer: "Clerks" But that's about the only thing I said from Clerks. I haven't dropped the "f-bomb" once. Or mention the number 37.

HOT GIRL FROM JOE'S CRAB SHACK - She's right here.

HOT CHIK (x2) - Again, right here.

Now I'm not making this next stuff up. But here is how the majority of people not guilted or obligated type in to find my site.


Are you serious?!? I guess they heard about the awesome job I did here.

They don't search, "Hot Dad's" or "How Long Does it Take to Clean Your Backyard?" or even "What Woman Will Put Up With Eric?"

I'm a stinking Dad slash Parenting slash moderately funny blog.

Not a blog promoting PROCTOLOGY!!!

Maybe I was better not knowing that I was a moderate number success.

Have a great day Peg Wussies!!!


PoV: Mark

This is from Creative Copy Challenge. The object is to use ten words and build a cohesive story. The ten words are bold. Original Post

Mark sat on the bench near the hundred year tree. He dragged his fingers over the extreme detail of the carvings.

Probably donated by the class of twenty-four or something.

He looked at his watch once more.


It was the first day of the spring semester at Meadow Brook University. New and returning students were hurrying past Mark on their way to buildings and classrooms across campus. Mark would grab a random student with his eyes and follow them until they left his peripheral vision. With everyone in their rushed state, no one paid him any attention.

Some SB ignored him when passing out her sororities' rush gumbo cook off.

Would anyone miss her?

He took his eyes off the female student and started following a guy on the cell phone. Cell Phone seemed agitated. He was expressing his frustration with whoever was on the other side of the phone by waving his arms wildly slicing the air. Cell Phone's eyes locked with Mark's in passing, but continued on his way.

He followed Cell Phone with his eyes as he walked towards Shepherd Hall.

It looks like we have a winner. What fate will fall on me in this building?

With Cell Phone closing in on the front door of the building, Mark stood up, adjusted his coat and slung his backpack over his shoulders. It took him about forty-two seconds to reach the door. He turned around to see the courtyard relatively clear. Everyone was in their class. Everyone was in their place. He entered the building and the doors slammed behind him. A shimmer of hope in his pathetic life was about to unfold.

The hallway longed forward and was empty. The walls were bare and nude to any hiding spaces or detractors.


He looked to his right, saw the fire alarm, and pulled.

The alarm blared in a steady slow tempo. Mark smiled and put reached both hands into his jacket.

Let's see who is going to be first.

A girl with her ponytail sticking out her cap comes out of the room up on the left.

Congratulations, Pony Tail!

Mark pulls his hands from his coat and points a 9mm contraband pistol at Pony Tail.


Pony Tail falls. More students start exiting out of the other rooms.

Letterman Jacket. Dolphin Notebook. Goth Chick.

In unison with the raging alarm.

Blam! Blam! Blam!

All three fall.

ROTC Cadet. Fat Girl. Old Man. Another ROTC cadet.

Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!

It's only been fifteen seconds since the alarm had been pulled and the hallway is full. They see Mark standing at the entrance with weapons pointing at them and the panic sets in like a train wreck. Pajama Pants screams, side steps a fallen body and starts running the opposite way into the throng of other fish sitting in the barrel.

Still in unison with the alarm, Mark fires into the mass.

Cornrows. Gay Guy. Old Navy. Hispanic Chick.

Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!

Suddenly, Mark feels his ribs crack and then notices that he is lying on the floor. His vision goes blurry as his head crashes against the linoleum. He looks up and sees a figure standing above him. He hears mumbling, but the alarm and the screams makes it impossible for him to make out what Blurry Man is saying.

Mark squints and focuses on the man. His eyes meet the eyes of a stranger. Or is it?

Cell Phone?!

Cell Phone is holding one of Mark's guns.

Is he threatening me?

Mark smiles and raises his gun at Cell Phone.


Mark's chest begins to feel warm with blood as it empties from his chest.

Cell Phone the hero.

With death all around him, Mark's vision goes black and joins them.


Babies in Beards - Season 2 Week 2


Do you want your baby featured in "Babies in Beards"?? Because honestly, this can only go so far before I shelf it again, right?? Email me a link of your baby you want me to beard. C'mon, show a little child deprecation. They'll get over it. It might take years of counseling, but live in the now.

Have a great day my friends.


The Weekend Pick-Up

We had a pretty busy weekend. It also didn't help that we lost an hour as well.

Saturday we went to KC's grandmother's birthday party at her grandmother's house. I realized that great-grandparent's houses are not really kid friendly.

So I did what I normally do and made sure that the kids didn't run into a hot bar-bq pit, rose bushes or out into the street.

Inside wasn't much better. There I stressed out when the kids messed with her televisions (plasma's by the way), pictures on the coffee table, and stepped on chips in the kitchen.

KC would tell me not to worry about it, but it was hard not too when Celi was messing with the remote to the TV's and was pretty close to knocking one down.

The kids had a great time despite their father's compulsive rising stress levels. They played football in the backyard where Disco would barrel through his girl cousins on a way to a touchdown.

You may think that a great-grandmother's birthday party isn't a fun place to be, but just check out my sister-in-law's Facebook status during the event.

And this was close to 7pm. We left around eight. No telling how many more Corona's lost their lives that night.


Daylight Savings Time kicked out butts yesterday. Our church let's us keep our hour of lost sleep by not requiring us to change our clocks ahead until the services are over. It's pretty cool because you have a little extra time to get ready, but we still failed to get there on time.

I have five kids and a wife to get ready. The fact that we get there prior to the alter call is a miracle of God himself.

So if we get to church for the 11am service, and it's usually done by 12:45, then when we change the clocks ahead when it's over it's close to 2pm already.

That part stinks.

If you were to ask me what my three favorite times of year would be, I would answer like this:
1) Christmas
2) My Birthday
3) Large Brush Pick Up Day
What about your kids' birthdays, your wife's, your anniversary, Eric?
I answer like this; those things are nice and all, but I get no satisfaction like I do on the above listed days.
Okay maybe my anniversary is number 2 and a half.
"Large Brush Pick Up Day" is the time of year when we can throw all of our crap we've collected into our front yard and the city will pick it up free of charge.
Usually if you put stuff like that in your front yard or take it to the dump, they charge you. Most of the time they notify you a few days in advance. This year I had ample time, but waited until the last minute anyways.

My goal was to clean up the back yard, which looks like a tornado tore through a trailer park and deposited the debris on my property. The side of the house had a collection of huge boxes too big for the recycle bin, a bed frame that was broken, an old stove, about a years worth of soda cans meant to be recycled for seventy five cents and other trash.

The back yard was littered with more cans, some old clothes and torn up cardboard.

The trash all over the place was thanks to Happy. I knew he would grow up to be annoying me when we kept him.

Sometimes words can't describe the horrifying events which happen as well as pictures, so I'll let you witness for yourself.

This was the side of the house. You see how horrible it is?? It's quite embarrassing really. I hate that it got to that point. It's really tough for me to be able to be able accomplish projects like this. I would love for it to never be there, but for some reason there is never enough time available to get it done.

And you also see a before shot of the curb and my crappy grass.

When I first got started, my neighbor on the trash side you see above wanted to know if I needed a huge garbage bag like they were using. I thought it was really nice since the only thing I've given them are cans in their backyard and un-mowed grass. The bag can hold like 200 gallons or something. At first I thought it was nice they gave me two, but then I thought they were meaning I had a lot of crap in my yard.

Upon starting, I noticed the below objects in a trashcan.

Sure beer bottles are not that big of deal, but when we don't drink beer in our house it twists my brain with the question of "Why?"

At first I thought it was the previous neighbors because they were a bit rowdy. Not as nice as the bag giving ones. But then I checked the born on date and it was 02-09-10.

2010? It was the current ones. Why the heck would they go to their backyard and drop these in my trashcan? They have a recycle bin just like we do. Is someone hiding the fact they were drinking? Was it my family? MaddSkillz? My dad? KC??

There were five bottles and we have five kids. Coincidence?

About two and a half hours later, MaddSkillz and I accomplished this.

Upfront is also the pool that we didn't take care of, a picnic table that was just taking up too much space, and a ton of other junk. I'm quite proud of our accomplishment.

That's why this is number three.

Now once I get all this crap up to the front, a new story happens. The scrap vultures come and go through your trash taking what they want. Case in point 2 minutes after I finished.

Taken from a surveillance video from MaddSkillz room. Someone was already taking the stove. They also took the picnic table as well.

Where were they when I was trying to get it to the front?

How was your weekend my friends? Did DST kick your butt?

Have a great one.


More Kids

For Seven Days Seven Answers you read the cue, react to the cue. There's no right answer, no research required. I cite sources where applicable but it's all about coming up with creative answers. Original Post

Checklist: A list of words will be accompanied by a scenario in which to use them.
tutor, fourth, equate, regrettably

Tell us about your weekend.

We should have stopped when we had our fourth, I regrettably told my wife on Saturday. In school, they don't teach you how to deal with large families. You don't get a tutor to tell you when you stop when you're ahead. The constant noise, smell and mess my living room has become does nothing but equate a hole in my wall. Not to mention a boxing fracture on my dominant hand. My wife has been crying all day. She said that I am mean and hurt her and the children. All because I can't control my anger.

Who the heck calls cats "their children" anyways?


Happy Birthday Mom

I would like to wish my mother a Happy Birthday. She reads this blog because she has too. Or maybe she just puts nice comments after my posts on Facebook to make me feel more confident about myself.

I actually know she reads this because it is a window into our lives. She lives in New York and we live in San Antonio and she is unable to visit as often as she would like.

So if my blog serves any purpose throughout history, I'm glad that it has at least been able to be enjoyed by her.

Thank you mom for being supportive of my family. We miss you very much and hope that you have a SUPER birthday.

I couldn't tell you how old she is, all I know is that she's one year closer to retirement.

Which means she's one year closer to moving to San Antonio. But when she does and she spends time with the grand kids, KC and I will have to be back by 7:30 because she has an early bed time. :)

We love you Gigi and we'll talk to you soon.


Run, Eric, Run

In 2004 at 29 years old, I weighed 162lbs. Being six foot three that's a bit on the bean pole side.

I had been skinny my entire life. All through elementary and middle school, I wore the "slim" sized jeans.

When I outgrew the slim sizes, my jeans and pants were hard to find because I was not waist/inseam proportionate. I'd have to have the obscure sizes of 26/30. It was hard to find at the stores and I'd have to get pants that were shorter just so they fit my waist.

I remember one time in particular where my step mom convinced me that since they reached the top of my high tops they were okay. This was probably the reason why the ladies didn't find me all that suave.

Through college (1993-1996), I probably didn't get higher than 135lbs.

Five years later in 2009, I went in for a physical and my weight was 187lbs. To say I was shocked by the results is an exaggeration. Looking myself in the mirror and the move to pants that were now an even proportion of 36w/36l was a bit of the tip off.

Gaining 30 pounds between 1997 and 2004 really wasn't a big deal to me. I was excited that I was finally gaining some weight. In 2000 I had actually considered having my thyroid oblated so I wouldn't have the high metabolism that I hated all my life.

So what happened in 2004? Well, I hit 30 years of age and a couple months later I was married.

It doesn't help that my wife is Hispanic and cooks amazing Mexican food.

A year later, I'm 195.


Am I to blame? I guess I could have some responsibility. I've managed to get my wife pregnant four times in those five years and with pregnancies comes cravings. A hamburger at 11:30 at night doesn't sound too bad does it?

Well needless to say it all caught up to me.

Now it's not exactly the weight that's bothering me. It's more of the shape I'm in.

It's tough to play with my kids without getting out of breath a few minutes in. I get really tired and out of breath more often now when doing other things as well.

So I decided to get in shape. I bought some running shoes and Wednesday night I went on my first run in at least 10 years.

Back in college I was in the Corps of Cadets at Texas A&M and we'd run at last three times a week. It shouldn't be that hard should it??

I downloaded an app that tracks my workout. I pulled up Pandora, and it opened with my U2 Radio Station. The song that popped up was "Running to Stand Still"

Wow, how did they know?

I turned on the app and music and started down the block. 100 yards in the music closed down and all I had to listen to was the guy on the app telling me how slow I'm going.

Well I made it around the block and here are my thoughts directly afterwards..

And here are my stats from the app.

.85 Miles

5.9 mph

Calories Burned


I'm kind of disappointed that I was on track for a 10 minute mile. I remember in high school I was doing it with a 7-8 minute mile. In college we would do 3 miles between 18-21 minutes. I thought I was going at a good pace.

The speed is actually an average of my speeds. It took my slowest (0.2) and my quickest (9.7). This part I didn't like, because the .2 was when I was walking down sidewalk to start and when I was done running in my yard before I turned it off.

My goal from this is to be in better shape for my family. Both physically and mentally. I know my wife hates it when I fall asleep on the couch. I want to be able to have more stamina for different activities. I want to feel confident with my looks and not self conscience when I'm holding my baby and she can rest slightly on my protruding stomach.

I want to be a happier person for myself and for my family.

I'm glad I started this and look forward to continuing.

Have a great weekend my friends.

Be sure to check out for Fatherhood Friday, where other dads can probably run circles around my fat butt.


Days of Elijah: Chapter 1

This is from Creative Copy Challenge. The object is to use ten words and build a cohesive story. The ten words are bold. Original Post

It was a few minutes to midnight and Elijah was he was instructed to wait for his friends.

"Go to the old apartment building and wait for us."

Is what the last instant message said. He climbed out his window after he knew his parents were asleep. He hid in the shadows of some rotting scaffolding. Was it safe? He stopped caring about his welfare a few months ago when his mom and her husband brought home another baby. It was their fourth in five years.

Can't these people get cable or something? Why do they have to keep making babies?

Life at his father's wasn't any better. He got remarried after he left his mom and they had three more kids as well. Every other Friday, he'd go to their house and stay in his room all weekend. His dad was working on his boat and his step-mom cared more about her kids than him. His dad even dropped Elijah off his insurance because with the additional children, he couldn't cover the child support and the medical premiums.

Here Elijah was, the oldest of eight and he felt most neglected. He was no longer her momma's little boy. The other kids saw to that. Only his friends knew what he was going through.

He hated the rules, the chores, the restrictions, the requests to look after the kids. He hated having to ask to go somewhere. He couldn't go to the mall or someplace with his friends. It was like they took away his freedom when he became a teenager.

So when the option to run away and get out from the oppressive rule that were his parents, the fourteen year old Elijah knew it was a no-brainer he had to leave.

At this time of night only a few cars would pass this place. Usually it was a motorist or random trucker looking for a place to park for the night. Elijah looked at the time on his phone again. It was a couple minutes past twelve.

Where are they? I came out here for nothing, didn't I? Just someone else breaking promises in my life.

"Hey Madman!!" Came a soft voice from the tree line.

Elijah squinted to try and pierce the darkness. From the shadows came Saul, Alex and Heaven. Three kids he knew that had everything they wanted. Most importantly, their parents didn't tell them crap. Elijah liked Heaven. Ever since she walked into his class in the fourth grade, he had a crush on her. She was the main reason he was out here.

His mom and Dan didn't approve of him dating until he was sixteen. It was their philosophy that if they prevent him from being in the same situations as his mother, he won't end up a teenage parent as well.

They gathered near the scaffold. Heaven and Elijah exchanged glances partnered with a smile. He noticed they were all wearing some sort of metal bracelet. Almost like a knight's gauntlet.

"What are those?" Elijah asked Alex.

"These are the answers to all your problems, Elijah."

"What do you mean?"

"You hate your life right? What if we had the means to change that?"

"I don't understand."

Before Alex could answer, a beam of light came from around the corner.

"Elijah!" called the voice.

It was Samuel, his step-dad.


Elijah's three friends took defensive positions when Sam approached.

"Elijah, I don't know what you're doing, but we're leaving now."

"How did you know where..."

"It doesn't matter. You're mom doesn't know we are not home. We need to get back before she wakes up for your sister's next feeding. Let's go."

"He's not going anywhere with you, man. Just turn around, get a donut and a chocolate milk, I don't care what and leave Elijah alone. He doesn't live with you any longer." Alex threatened.

"It's going to be a cold day in hell before I'm scared of a Twilight and Jonas Brother wannabe." Sam's quick wit retorted.

Sam went to grab Elijah's wrist and Elijah pulled back. At the same time Saul pulled a gun out and pointed it at Sam.

"What the hell are you doing with that thing? Put that away now and I won't file a report."

Elijah was confused. Sam was out here, how he found him he didn't know, but he was out here none the less. He seemingly did not tell his mom about it either. Now he's seen a side of his friends he never expected.

"Elijah, let's go home." Sam said softly holding out his hand.

"You don't have to Elijah, we can show you how life will be different." Heaven's angelic voice pleaded.

His head was spinning. He felt dizzy. Was it his anxiety? Migraines? Elijah needed to rest on something or he was going to eat pavement. He leaned against the scaffolding. Sam went to help Elijah. A few steps away from his son, Sam was pushed from behind by Alex into the structure. Elijah backed away and stumbled into Heaven's arms. Sam's shoulder clipped a support pole. Trying to regain his balance his head struck the side of the building and he fell to the ground.

The scaffolding started to sway back and forth. The kids backed up. Within seconds Sam was buried in a mess of metal and wood. Elijah couldn't speak. His head hurt. He didn't know what to do. He was about to say something when he heard Alex talking.

"Chrono slide. Three Rogues plus one. Engage!"

What was he doing?

Before he could take his next breath, they were engulfed in a blue flame and were gone.


Too Many Toys

When I was a kid, I loved my toys; He-Man, Transformers, GiJoe, Star Wars, and MASK. Some weekends, my best friend and I would go to each other's houses and have giant wars in our bedrooms. Snake-Eyes versus Carbonite Han Solo. Man at Arms versus Autobot Mirage. Matt Striker's Thunderhawk versus a Tie Fighter. Decepticon Skywarp versus Cobra Rattler. I know my female contingent will not get any of those references.


It was the greatest cross promotional battle of all time.

That's when I loved toys and toys were cool.

Now that I am a parent, toys suck and they are not cool.

Five kids. Five birthdays. Five Christmases. Tons of family members. You do the math.

Now since MaddSkillz is 14, he doesn't get "toys" any longer. So he doesn't count.

Em's too small to appreciate them, but that doesn't mean she won't be getting them soon.

I have come to the conclusion that anyone who gets toys that have more than one part assigned to them HATES ME AND WANTS ME TO BE MISERABLE!!

I had to tell my MIL two years ago that I would not let her give my son a jungle set because it had too many pieces. She still had it and I was like, what the heck give it to him for Christmas. Now every time I go into my kids room, I step on the dang elephant and it screams out an elephant yell or whatever elephants do.

Try sneaking into the room at night trying to put clothes away without stepping on something that screams, cries, blares a siren, or sings "I love you I love you, morning noon and night."

We have three toy boxes in the living room. One each for Ladybug, Disco and Celi. There's only three because I took out the crap that I know they don't play with any longer. If I didn't, there would be SIXTEEN toy boxes. This stuff was put in a bag that is supposed to go to Goodwill.

Well, the bag hadn't made it to Goodwill and the kids found it. So Ladybug goes through the bag looking for toys that she wants to keep.

I hate you procrastination. I work a block away from a Goodwill for Pete's sake.

After many years of research, this is what I found out about toys and my kids:
- Ladybug will be more interested in what her brother gets than what she gets.
- Ladybug will want to play with her brother's toys and exclaim the he is not sharing when he won't let her.
- When Disco wants to play with her toys, the sharing thing obviously only pertains to his toys.
- One child could not play with the toy for months. They could even forget about it, but if another child finds that toy and plays with it, the sharing rule comes back into effect.
- Celi knows that blocks are good for hitting her brother in the face when he's being mean.
- MaddSkillz will want to play with the kids toys, but when they find their way into his room, he will not let them play with the paddleball he got from Chuck E Cheese, SEVEN YEARS AGO!!!
- When getting a Happy Meal, we must get Ladybug and Disco boy toys because we go back to the whole Ladybug wants Disco's toy rule.
- If you cant find a toy, it's best to look behind the TV, on the top bunk, or at the top of the linen closet.
- The above is true because one kid doesn't want the other kid to play with their toy, so they feel it's best to throw it in a place the other has no chance of getting it. Even when it means they can't get it either.
- The living room will be littered with toys by 7:36AM every morning.
- The above even happens when the kids sleep until 7:35AM.
- We can not have blocks in the house. Aside from being blunt weapons to siblings faces, it just causes too much drama.
- When it's quiet and dark in my room at night, I will always kick the Rock and Roll ball my brother got for one of the kids.
- We will never let the kids play with this toy. The kids gather around it, scream at ear piercing levels, then wrestle each other like they're playing Rugby or something. Even MaddSkillz gets involved. They opened it for Christmas, played with it a couple times. Now it sits on the top of our desk out of their reach.

Now I know the kid's grandmothers read this blog (They're actually 40% of my readership) , and this is not a plea to stop buying your precious grandkids gifts. Even if it was, it's your job to spoil them no matter how frustrating and pissed off we get. Just like it's apparently my dad's job to give them Peeps, Soda, and Pop Rocks.

The kids love the toys and are very appreciative of them. Don't let their ranting father ruin any positional gifts for them.

Have a great day my friends.


Babies in Beards - Season 2 Week 1

Because you all four people demanded it. It's the return of the feature my wife and mother in law are sure to hate.


Do you want your baby featured in "Babies in Beards"?? Because honestly, this can only go so far before I shelf it again, right?? Email me a link of your baby you want me to beard. C'mon, show a little child deprecation. They'll get over it. It might take years of counseling, but live in the now.

Have a great day my friends.


The Weekend Make-Up

The plan this weekend was to get ready for the "brush pick up" on March 15th. Brush pick up happens twice a year (usually in March and August), and is the time we are able to throw whatever the heck we want too in our front yard and the city comes by to pick it up.

I was going to start on Saturday, but my wife went to spend my hard earned money on make up a Mary Kay party. I will never understand women and their make up. Tell a woman about AVON or Mary Kay and they go crazy. Women will place orders every three weeks for new make up. The kids could be eating top ramen for two weeks, but somehow she's still able to get her super shadow eye liner with rotating extended bristles.

It was a last minute invite and KC really needed to get out for a little bit before she killed her husband without the kids. She had a good time but was sidelined with a migraine and I wasn't able to get outside.

I was going to attempt it on Sunday as well after Church, but it teased us with light rain the entire day.

This means I will have to take everything out to the curb everyday this week after work because we are attending a birthday party this weekend and nothing I plan ever happens the way I expect it too.

A great thing that happened this weekend was that Em finally accepted me as her daddy. For nearly three months she hardly had anything to do with me. I would hold her, she would cry. I would sit down with her, she would cry. I offered her money, she took it, then would cry.

KC would call after being out for a few hours and I would stressing out like a mofo. Em wouldn't let me put her down without crying. I could get her to fall asleep, but then the it's like I laid her in a pile of sea urchins because she wakes up right away.

There were times where I could lay her down, but then four minutes later she would wake up again.

But I am proud to say that she has given me a chance. After almost 3 months, we have settled our differences and she decided to make up with me.

She now smiles at me. She lets me sit down with her and not cry. She also lets me put her to sleep for longer than four minutes.

It's a big step in our relationship because I was ready to book a flight to Maury to see if she was really mine.

So now we're cool.

Have a great week my friends.


My Time for Glory

This is from Creative Copy Challenge. The object is to use ten words and build a cohesive story. The ten words are bold. Original Post

Here it my big moment. My time to shine. My time for glory.

My music blares through the speakers of the arena as the crowd jumps to their feet. I step through the curtain and the noise is deafening. I want to thank each and every one of them for the support they've given me through my entire run. I'm getting older and I'm not as quick as I used to be. Each year goes by and I get further and further behind in this sport. New moves. New characters. Just like the seasons, everything has changed.

Before I was married, I would let this monopolize my time. Every chance I got, I would find ways and reasons to come return. The locker room was like a co-ed dorm with all of us hanging out. Some of us would leave of our own accord. Some of us were kicked out.

I managed to come back for this last big run. I trained and I practiced. I even hired a dietician to help me with my weight. Since I got married, I put on a few pounds. Sure I wasn't as fast as I was ten years ago, but I could still work the crowd.

I was at the end of the ramp now. The ring only a few feet from me. I let the cheers and support are my tailwind of encouragement in what many have called an epic battle.

On Pay Per View none the less.

My opponent is "MaddSkillz" Mike Joseph, my protégé. I pretty much taught him this sport. He's young. He's quick. He also struts around the ring with a cocky confidence. Is it because he thinks he can beat his old mentor? To make him tap out?

I take a few moments to watch his antics. I can't help it but smile. I climb the steps, go through the ropes and keep my muscles loose in my corner. The referee calls us to the center. Explains the rules and signals for the bell.

I don't know what hit me. MaddSkills attacks like a rattlesnake. He attacks me from all different directions. He throws me into the ropes. The turnbuckles. I spend more time on the ground than I do on my feet. He's hits burn like the sting of a bumblebee. I really don't know how much more I can take.

Honestly, I'm pretty much done. I can't even muster enough energy to stay on my feet. MaddSkillz is loving this. He's just toying with me now. He kicks me in the gut which sets up his finisher.

The Propeller.

He lifts me on his shoulders, spins around and slams me face first on the mat. He rolls me over and the ref counts.




He won again.

I suck. I suck. I suck. I suck.

"I'm done playing this game with you!!!"

I throw the controller down it slams against his bookcase and I storm out of my son's room the worst of the sore losers. No sportsmanship whatsoever. Great example of being a father. He didn't even give me a chance.

I need to practice when he's at school. That's how I'll beat him.


Randomness and Cynicism - V

If you've noticed, I'm not posting everyday like I used too. Partly due to the fact that when Ladybug stopped taking quality pictures with my cellphone, that feature ceased to exist.

I was able to get away with five posts a week before because two of them were blow offs if you were. Ladybug's Portfolio and the Thursday Throwback. The Throwback didn't get very good reception, so I backed off doing that one as well.

So without two easy to schedule posts, I'm left with three again.

Though I am tempted to bring back Babies With Beards (Week One / Week Two), just because I know it upset my wife and MIL.

Disco is a machine. The only reason you know he has a broken arm is the cast he's wearing. He's been amazing. He hasn't had to have any pain meds since Monday. He doesn't let us help him with anything. He gets on the couch and up to the table all by himself.

When the Castologist was putting the cast on, Disco said he wanted a pink cast. I vehemently talked him out of it. I talked him into the light blue one you see above. The main reason was so we could all sign the cast.

I thought later that it was a double standard. I wouldn't have minded that Ladybug picked a light blue cast, but I would have pushed for a pink one though.

Ladybug is 4. In clothing size, that means she should be a size 4T. Since we don't live in a perfect world and she is a tall beanpole like her Daddy used to be, she has to wear a size 6 in little girls. Notice the "T" is no longer there. I found 5 shirts at Wal-Mart Wednesday night for 4 bucks each. She looks like a big girl now. This makes me sad.

She wants to go to school very bad. Her birthday is in October, so she's a "late starter" in that regards I guess. We're going to try to hard to get her into a Pre-K this coming September.

I took 24 off my DVR list. I loved the first 4 hours of the show. But after the assassination attempt, I felt it was crap. Especially with that blonde chick and her d-bag ex-boyfriend. I really wanted Freddie Prinze-Gellar Jr. to get all Jack Bauer on people, but when I was watching he was just in the background. A few recorded episodes sat unwatched and I just had to let it go.

If I knew that having kids would mean I would constantly have piles of clothes on my couch, I would have possibly thought twice about having so many. Or maybe I should get rid of some of the couches.

I'll leave it there. But before you have a great weekend, be sure to check out for other dad's who have couches with clothes constantly as well with Fatherhood Friday.

Have a great weekend my friends.


Victor Garber

This is from Creative Copy Challenge. The object is to use ten words and build a cohesive story. The ten words are bold. Original Post

My wife and I are currently sitting in the administrative “lobby” I guess you call it of my son’s high school. We have this “meeting” with the principal. We weren’t really told what was going on, but my wife and I have differing opinions.

KC is worried that something had happened. Upon becoming a teenager, the boy had started building this barrier between us and him. He had stopped talking to us as much as he used too, and even went a few months without telling us he was dating this chick. We did not support him dating until he was sixteen. In high school you have unlimited access to any boy or girl wanting to hook up. Then one thing leads to another and you become another teen statistic.

“Don’t worry about it, Sweetheart” I tell her, “Everything is going to be fine.”

I shouldn’t blow off her feelings, but I just got this new iTouch and I am watching Green Lantern: First Flight and using a blue tooth earpiece to listen.

She is saying something else, but I can’t really make out what it is. I’m distracted by wondering who is providing the voice to Sinestro.

Our son is an honor student. He’s gotten straight “A’s” all semester. He’s in theater and quickly becoming an extrovert.

Maybe that is why KC is concerned. A cute kid that can put on the actor’s charm.

Why didn’t I go into Theater Arts when I was in school. I was just a comic book geek.

I guess not much has changed.

The tranquility that filled my head is now clouded. Maybe KC is right.

Where have I heard that voice before? This is getting frustrating.

The door opens and KC turns her head quickly. The principal motions her to come in. She pats my leg, I get up and follow them in.

Its the big battle right now. Sinestro is beating the crap out of the Green Lantern Corps.
We sit down and exchange pleasantries. He starts to talk and I can start to make out the owner of the voice in my head.

Principal is talking about something, but I have no clue. I’m concentrating on the voice.

Oh its that guy from Legally Blonde. Of course.

I rule. I didn’t even have to IMDB it. I start to pay attention to the conversation.

“Your son has the highest grape up his ass.” The principal says.

“WHAT?!?!” I stand pissed off.

My wife jerks her head in my direction and the principal leans back in his chair.

“I don’t know what gives you the right. But you can’t just sit there with a straight face and insult us by insulting our son. I do not know how you became a principal with that kind of uncouth tact. You’re a retarded ruffian who is better equipped to be a dishwasher than a principal. I hope you die, sir. I hope you die. But I won’t be rude and not go to your funeral. Oh, I will be there. I will be there to piss on your coffin and crap on your grave. We are out of here. We’re taking our kid to private school. You! You have a grape up YOUR ass!!!”

I hold up three fingers.

“Read between the lines, fat head. Read between the lines. Let’s go sweetie!”

I start to walk towards the door. I turn to see KC embarrassed and pissed.

“Eric, he said that he has the highest grade in the class!”


That certainly does change things.