The Past Few Months in Pics

Just a few of my favorite pictures the wifey took over the past few months. Enjoy!

 

My Six-Year-Old the EMO Teenager

Seriously…what the fuck has happened to my sweet little, Opie Taylor-lookin’ six-year-old?

After school, he comes strolling out, gives his mom a quick nod of the head, like “sup” and just keeps strolling by. Doesn’t want anyone talking to him, hanging near him, or anything. He gets in the car and he’s all EMO and shit. He’s pushing his hair down in the front and looking angrily out the window.

In my mind I’m wondering what in the holy hell does he have to be all emotional about at this age? Did Suzie refuse to share a cookie with you? Did Samantha not accept your Valentine? Did Timmy get a pubic hair before you did? Did the teacher make you learn how to write the letter B when you really wanted to write D? Did I forget to put the PB in your PB&J? Did Kanye steal the stage from you?

He’s got this other thing going on that makes me want to turn a fifth of anything upside down….. He’ll kick his sister. She’ll scream. I’ll say, “Grayson!! Stop kicking your sister.”

Then he leaps up, looking shocked, both arms sticking out with palms up, eyes wide opn, and starts launching into a high-pitched, screaming explanation as to why he just kicked her and how it’s her fault.

I cut him off. “Grayson, I don’t want to hear it, just stop kicking her.”

He then says, “You never listen to me. You never wanna hear what I have to say. You don’t care!” He then goes stomping off crying and sits in his bedroom curled up. I swear, if he had a radio with headphones, he’d put them on, stare at his Clash poster on the wall, and write long prolific poems in his journal about how misunderstood he is.

I’m not ready for this shit just yet. So I write the following while on my knees:

Dear Whatever You Are That Turns Kids Into Teenagers:

Not fucking yet, please. My kids rocks and he’s too young to cross over to the dark side. Keep his voice high-pitched, his mouth smiling, and his brain uncluttered from all that testosterone.

That’d be greeeat. Thanks!

Grayson’s Dad

 

It's All About the Boobs

Yesterday I was sitting on the couch with the kids, watching some boob tube, when a commercial comes on.

Most parents know that when a commercial comes on, usually the children snap out of the TV coma and begin random acts of destruction. So I was braced for the worst. But instead, my daughter says:

“My head almost reaches mommy’s boobies.”

My son pops up from his seat – “My eyes can look right at mommy’s boobies. Come stand next to me and let’s see how far away you are from looking at mommy’s boobies.”

They then proceed to stand next to each other and begin the arduous process of calculating exactly how far my daughter has to grow before her eyeballs see eye-to-eye with my wifey’s rack.

I honestly didn’t know what to say or how do I react. Do I stand up, lift the boy off the ground by his shirt while screaming, “those bad-boys are mine damn it. You keep your dirt-crusted, goopy eyeballs off them, ya hear?!” Or do I say, “hey children, come sit next to daddy mmmkay! Listen, those are mommy’s personal body objects that are not to be discussed, touched, or looked at, mmmkay?!” Or, do I stand up and say, “Oh yeah, well my belly is even with your midget mother’s boobies which puts them in perfect range for…….” Umm…I didn’t chose that one.

Nope, instead I smiled, chuckled, and realized that those precious mounds I so often admire from a far have entered a new phase. I’ve seen many a boob phase over the past 7 years – pregnancy, birth, nursing, post nursing, etc… And now…measuring stick. I gave up the whole, “I don’t like to share” thing a long time ago.

Regardless of what phase they’re in, they’re fabulous and one of many attributes that make wifey a sexy sexy MILF. Now if I could only get her to agree to let me take pictures for my blog post….