Answers You Wish You Could Give To Children's Questions

Let’s all face it. Kids ask and say the most insane things …isn’t that right Mr. Cosby?

And as parents we’re stretched, torn, and tossed to our furthest reaches, but yet we manage to pull it back in, smile and give the best answers possible, all while biting our lower lip.

But what if for a day we could respond the way we really wanted to?

DISCLAIMER: Do not try this at home. You will be removed from your house in handcuffs, forever scarring your kids. This is simply a “what-if” situation only. Do not repeat, mutter, write on your Facebook status, or break-dance to any of what you read here. The contents of the following answers may cause you to climb into a closet naked and rock back-and-forth whilst crying. This blog does not condone speaking to children and/or even looking in their general direction. If you see a child while reading this post runaway fast and never look back.

With that out of the way… …what if we could spend one day having conversations we all wish we could have with kids’ …knowing damn well it would all be erased from their minds at the end of the day causing no physical harm whatsoever?

I for one would be on board with the following conversations:

Wang Chung & The Sweat Factory

Son: “Daddy. I can’t sleep!!”

Me: “What? Oh no. Well…you know Mr. Snuggles over in the corner there?”

Son: “Yes! He’s my favorite!”

Me: “Yeah, well, he’s really a robot sent from Hell. Yeah…he loves children that don’t sleep because he snatches them up, puts them in a sack and takes them to his factory where he makes them sew-on buttons while listening to and singing along to Wang Chung. And, if you get a note wrong…well…you should just go to bed there tiger.”

When You Cry Kittens Die

Daughter: "Daddy!!! Grayson called me 'meany face' and I don't like it when he does that!!!"

Me: "Oh come here baby...daddy's got you. Awww...don't cry. You know what happens when you cry and whine?"

Daughter: Sniffling... "No....what?"

Me: "Well, it's quite simple...innocent, fluffy, cute little kittens just fall to the ground the die."

Daughter: "Nooo!! Really daddy? Tell me you're lying!"

Me: "I wish I could but unfortunately it's true. All their fur falls to the ground and then they collapse in it and simply die. Daddy only tells you the truth honey!"

Back & Toenail Hair

Son: "Daddy...every other Saturday night why do you turn the fan on high in the hallway and lock your bedroom door with mommy?"

Me: "Because that's when your mother makes me shave her back and pluck the hair from her toes."

Son: "Eeeewww daddy. Really?"

Me: "Yes son...and if I don't give her a Justin Bieber poster to bite down on she gets violent and tries to rip the beard off my face."

Son: "She sounds really vicious daddy."

Me: "Remember what I've always told you?"

Son: "Yes dad, always check with you to make sure I'm marrying the right girl."

Me: "Good boy...now go to bed, it's the second Saturday of the month. If I don't see you again, know that I love you OK?"

Son: "Be strong dad!"

All Baby’s Come From “Aunty”

Daughter: "Daddy, where do baby's come from?"

Me: "Holy shit...really? Now? You're only six!!!"

Daughter: "Daddy....where do baby's come from."

Me: "You know that lady down on 5th and Jackson who's always smoking, barely wearing anything and always walks up to daddy's car?"

Daughter: "You mean Aunty?"

Me: "Yes...that's your real mother. That's where all children come from. Aunty....they come from Aunty."

Daughter: "But I don't want Aunty to be my real mommy."

Me: "I know sweety...that's why I picked up the short, cute blonde in the other room. I thought she'd do till you got older. You'll understand when you get older. Daddy just had a really rough day the day you were conceived."

Daughter: "Daddy - what's conceived?"

Me: "Shhhh...go night night. Don't make me make you cry. You don’t want a cute fluffy kitten to die do you?"



It's A Brand New Year!

Well…I’m back after a two-week hiatus.

The fam and I took a little trip to North Carolina to recharge, enjoy some family and friends during the holidays, and to ditch the kids for multi-night excursions of gallivanting, drinking, thumb-wrestling, and graffiti by moon-light.

I thought about boring you with a play-by-play of our 12.5-hour trip from Chicago to North Carolina with a young nipper in the back who decided to grace us with the puke bug three hours into the trip.

But, I’m just not talented enough to pull off a puke story that doesn’t involve Bobcat Goldthwait, a tiger, a cage-match with two moles, and the Sanford and Son intro song as background music.

So, instead… I’m going to do what we all must do this time every year and toss out a snippet from the much longer version of…

My New Year’s Resolutions

I only ran just over 500 miles last year. The lowest mileage I’ve had since Brett Farve first realized he could pic text the contents of his jockstrap to sideline hotties. This year…I WILL break 1,000 miles by December 31.

I’m going to finally stop giving a fuck what other people think!! I mean…if…if it’s cool with you? If not, I could always postpone it another year or so, or something like that. I don’t know. Hey, I just found $5 on the ground. Want it?!!

When I finally shave my beard I will keep a handlebar mustache for longer than two hours!

To finally get my half-sleeve tattoo finished…without going bankrupt.

I will not sleep, eat, or read to my children until I make it to the Presidential debate, earn the right to hold a mic, and ask the question: “Mr. President. You have made it clear in previous campaigns for your current position that you are opposed to the war in Iraq. You worked hard to repeal the “don’t ask don’t tell” military policy, and are working closely with other UN constituents to keep North Korea at bay despite Sarah Palin’s belief they are our ally. So I ask you…will you vehemently support the growing Pants Optional Friday movement?!!”

To go to bed each night having my kids tell me they love me…unsolicited.

This year I will support the grape farmers! I will go above and beyond the call of duty to make sure grape farmers far and wide who just so happen to provide the wine industry its much needed ingredient are given their due during hard times!

To tell my wife one more time than necessary every day that I love her.

That’s the short short version. The longer version is anonymously hand written on a paper that’s been mailed to an unsuspecting gentleman in Arizona I’ve never met.

It’s my annual ritual, it works for me and I’m pretty sure once the guy finishes reading them he’s going to pour a stiff drink and thank his maker he’s not me.

Happy New Year world! Make this one count.