Posts Tagged ‘ funny ’

Hungry Hungry Hippos Is A Toy, Not A Game

Sunday, June 1st, 2014

3 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

Last weekend your Nonna gave you a $20 bill to spend on anything you wanted at any point in the future.

To my surprise, that money actually lasted an entire week!

This past weekend while we visited Atlanta for the Wizard World Comic Con, we discovered there was a Target that basically shared the parking of the Le Meridien where we were staying.

You had been asking me for months now about the classic game, Hungry Hungry Hippos. It just happened to be on sale for $13, compared to its normal price of 20 bucks.

I was amazed that Mommy and I were able to convince you to keep it in the box during the 5 minute journey back up to our 8th floor hotel room.

Going into this, I knew from past experience not to expect you to play by the rules.

Yeah, that would be an understatement this time around.

The blue hippo was your favorite. You manually opened up his month and directly placed the plastic marbles in.

Even still, after the 2nd time of playing Hungry Hungry Hippos mostly the way it was intended, you proclaimed, “I don’t like losing.”

It’s not that you suddenly lost interest in it once you learned how to play. It’s that you decided that Hungry Hungry Hippos is much more fun as a toy.

By the first night in the hotel, Hungry Hungry Hippos became your “bulldozer airplane.” Apparently, when turned upside down, the platform can fly and hover through the air.

Despite that, it seems that the collection of hippos are becoming categorized like stuffed animals:

“Mommy, can I bring Hungry Hungry Hippos to bed with me tonight?”

Even the plastic marbles have another function besides actual game use. You’ve been using them as freight for your Take-n-Play Thomas the Train sets.

It seems like Hungry Hungry Hippos is everything you had hoped it would be…

To a 3 year-old boy, it’s not a game. It’s a toy.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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Daddy’s In His Quiet Place Right Now…

Tuesday, May 20th, 2014

3 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

Yes, that’s me. Those are my feet sticking out from underneath all of the couch cushions and accent pillows in our living room.

When that picture was taken, I was in somewhat of a meditative state; not simply because my oxygen supply was being fairly limited, but also because it was sort of relaxing in there.

In fact, I had no idea Mommy even took that picture until I was going through the picture folder on my flash drive yesterday, looking for a something else.

Sure, I heard what was going on outside my world of pillows:

“Hey Mommy! Daddy’s all covered. Look at Daddy. I finished his cage now.”

Then I heard your footsteps as you approached me. I saw a small opening appear between the pillows, with light coming through.

“Here you go, Tiger. Here’s your food!”

Apparently pet tigers like to eat (plastic) snakes.

This routine has become the norm. I can see why.

It allows you to completely make a mess and get away with it, as you pretend you are building a cage for your Daddy, who happens to be a tiger.

I really don’t mind it at all. Like I said, it sort of gives me 12 minutes or more of time to just zone-out on the living room floor.

With a schedule as busy as mine, I typically don’t make time for zoning out… other than when I’m running or sleeping.

It’s not so much a desperate attempt to make time for myself as it is me trying to multitask:

By being your tiger in a cage, I can spend quality time with you; because to you, I’m playing.

And I can rest my mind for a little while; because to me, being buried in a “cage” of pillows is actually relaxing.

Yes, that’s me multitasking. It’s Daddy in his… quiet place.

 

Love,

Daddy

Keep your kids busy with these chore guides

Lords of the Playground: The Gamble
Lords of the Playground: The Gamble
Lords of the Playground: The Gamble

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Daddy, Do They Still Make Old Mans?

Monday, May 19th, 2014

3 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

Saturday morning, I introduced you to The New Woody Woodpecker Show on Netflix. 

As soon as you saw Dr. Von Kook, you proclaimed, “Hey Daddy, that’s an old man!” It was if he was a purple magical unicorn or something.

Then there was that perfect 5 second delay before you gave me a classic follow-up comment:

“Daddy, do they still make old mans?”

You were completely sincere in your curiosity.

I suppose I said yes somewhere in the midst of my immediate uproar of laughter, but I don’t necessarily remember it.

It’s hilarious to imagine human factories that manufacture people; that they purposely make “old mans.”

Which is the other thing I love about your question: the alternative way to make “man” plural… just add an “s”.

Yes, Son, they still make old mans.

Nick Shell shared The Dadabase‘s status.
May 17

“Daddy, do they still make old mans?” -Jack #thisjusthappened
In fact, I’m simply 29 and a half years ahead of you on the journey to becoming an old man myself.

I am especially reminded of that since my past couple of haircuts; noticing that my hair is now a tad thinner than it was just a few years ago.

Like most men, I will gradually go the way of the ever manly Bruce Willis. With each Die Hard sequel, he appeared wiser, tougher, more experienced, and even cooler.

And I’m totally fine with my follicle fate.

Back in 1991, I remember standing at the bathroom counter in the house I grew up in, which was furnished with the finest dark brown wall paneling and dark brown shag carpet.

As I brushed my teeth one night, I remember looking at both of my parents, who were the age I am now, around 33.

I thought, “One day I will be 33 like them. I’ve got so many years until I get there. But one day, that’ll be me.”

I was 10 at the time. I decided in that moment, to consciously remember that forever, like a permanent bookmark.

But now, that “one day” has come. I am now that age.

Granted, 33 is not old or even close to it.

They still make old mans, but I’m definitely not one of them yet.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Top photo: courtesy of The New Woody Woodpecker Show.

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Just A Tiny Little Mother’s Day Mishap, That’s All

Sunday, May 11th, 2014

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

I decided that this year for Mother’s Day, I wanted you to pick out everything for Mommy yourself.

That’s right, I would simply be your accomplice as I snuck you out of school during your Friday afternoon nap and wisked you away to Hallmark and Whole Foods.

Honestly, you did a great job of picking Mommy’s gifts:

A pretty new summer scarf and Winnie the Pooh card from Hallmark, along with Mommy’s favorite kind of licorice and some pink lilies from Whole Foods.

I had been preparing you all week:

“Okay Jack, you and me are going to get Mommy some gifts for Mother’s Day, but it’s our little secret until Sunday.”

And I purposely waited until Friday for our dadventure to take care of these gifts, should it be too much temptation for you to spill the beans to Mommy.

But as soon as we stepped into the house on Friday, two days before Mother’s Day, you invited Mommy to the trunk of our car where we had her gifts stored.

Granted, you were already presenting Mommy with her flowers two days early, but that was supposed to be the only thing you gave her before Mother’s Day.

Mommy and I both attempted to explain to you that those gifts were meant to be a surprise.

But after about 7 minutes of you crying and screaming in the hallway, you finally blurted out, “It’s a scarf!”

At that point, I gave up and Mommy got to celebrate Mother’s Day early, by receiving her scarf.

Well, at least we made her wait for the candy and card.

From here on out, I plan repeat this same formula each year: Secretly take you away to pick out Mommy’s gifts for Mother’s Day.

I’ll be interested in learning which year your gifts actually get to remain a surprise!

It was just a tiny little Mother’s Day mishap this year, that’s all.

She still had a wonderful time with you and me today. Actually, she thought the scarf incident was pretty funny.

As for me, the “it’s a scarf!” part will probably be what I remember most about Mother’s Day 2014, years from now.

It’s pretty hilarious, actually.

Love, Daddy

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Lords of the Playground: The Purchase
Lords of the Playground: The Purchase
Lords of the Playground: The Purchase

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Little Girls Want A Real Pony, Little Boys Want A Real Bulldozer

Friday, May 9th, 2014

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

For the past several weeks on the drive home, I found a lesser discoverd route by driving through connected neighborhoods.

You named it “the new Daddy way.”

Even though we take that way home every day now, you still ask for it by name each time we hop in the car.

Part of the need for this new way home is the congestion on our former route, as Concord Road is being destroyed and people’s front lawns are being taken away…

I mean… the road is being widened to accommodate the traffic which we’re a part of.

But today, I drove home the construction site way because I thought there was an $8 sale going on at Great Clips. (I was wrong; it ended yesterday. Womp-womp.)

It had been nearly a month since you got to see the new version of that old familiar road.

You screamed out from the back seat today:

“Hey Daddy, it’s the white crane! He’s back!”

That’s right. To you, the giant crane is a he. Like a dinosaur.

It’s such a majestic sight to see all that construction equipment.

You sat in awe in the back seat.

I guess it’s not everyday you get to see such monstrous machines so close up.

It’s like cheap entertainment. (Well, actually, it’s our tax dollars affording that entertainment. Right?)

I found this infograph which shows the weight, horsepower, and average used price of several pieces of staple construction equipment.

For example, if we wanted to save up our money as a family, we might eventually (!) be able to buy a good bulldozer, for example, for about a half million dollars.

That would definitely make us the coolest family on the block!

But until we can put a solid down payment on one, you can just appreciate the “free” entertainment from the 2nd row seat.

 

Love,

Daddy

construction equipment infographic

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