Tuesday, January 14, 2020

Dad Tip: The Hulkster Test

Sometimes when you're rocking a baby in an attempt to get them to fall asleep, you lay them down and they're instantly awake again the second their head touches the crib. It is like they feel the gravity of being lowered down and say, "I'm up! I got more crying to do! Nobody is sleeping around here!" As the nights go on, you start to get a sense of if they're just momentarily sleeping or if they're out cold sleeping. There is a difference.

This leads me to another Dad Tip, this time referencing something any dad worth a damn can relate to: professional wrestling. What you do is give your youngster the Hulkster test. Remember when Hulk Hogan got locked in a sleeper hold*, perhaps Ted Dibiase's Million Dollar Dream, but really any finishing move that causes the opponent to lose consciousness? What the referee would do to see if Hogan could continue after the choke hold is lift Hulk's arm up in the air, and it would flop lifelessly down on the mat. Then he would do it a second time with the same result. Now, on the third hoisting of Mr. Hogan's python, if his arm hit the floor again the match would end in a victory for his opponent. Of course this would never happen because just before that hand would hit the floor he would stop it dead in its tracks and start shaking it. Then he would shake his head no, as if to say, "I'm not out yet." His opponent would then look all scared because if his finishing move wasn't enough, what chance did he have now?

So punches would be thrown at the Hulk in desperation, but The Hulkster would just keep shaking his head. And I think you know how the rest goes. Hogan throws the dude off the ropes, guy bounces and runs back towards him defenselessly for some reason, eats a boot to the face, Hulk gets a running start by bouncing himself off the ropes, and then he does a flying leg drop, landing 300 pounds on the guy's face via that overly tanned thigh meat, pins him, and that's the match.

So what I'm suggesting for today's Dad Tip** is lifting the baby's arm like a WWE referee to see if the kid is ready to sleep for real or just trying to bring some drama and excitement into the bedtime match that he knows he is going to win.


*I saw an interview of Hulk Hogan where he said that he wished he did a sleeper hold as his own finishing move instead of his leg drop because all that weight crashing down ended up doing irreparable damage to his spine.

**Hulk Hogan had somewhat of a Dad Tip of his own: "To all of my Hulkamaniacs out there, say your prayers and eat your vitamins and you'll never go wrong."

Wednesday, January 08, 2020

Too Much Butt Cream Is Better Than None At All

Tomorrow Mrs. Noisewater needs the car, so immediately after work I have to take Erik Noisewater in an Uber to make it on time for his gymnastics class. To do this legally I could lug a heavy and awkward travel car seat or I could buy a booster seat since the young man is now over 40 pounds. I found a good and cheap booster at Target, which was open until 10pm, so after getting the kids to bed, I ducked out to pick it up. JESUS THIS STORY SOUNDS BORING, but just stay with me here. So while I'm there I had to pick up eggs, orange juice, and diaper rash cream. The cream looked to be buy one get one free, but when I got to the register she informed me that it was buy THREE get one free. I tried to explain to her that no one needs to walk out of Target with FOUR tubes of butt cream. I said, "Do you know how small a baby's butt crack is? It's like this (and used my fingers to show an inch long butt crack). By the time I'm anywhere near finished four tubes of this stuff, the kid won't be in diapers anymore." She asked if I just wanted the one, and I said yes, now thinking that maybe my baby booty crack lecture was perhaps a bit much.

When I came home Mrs. Noisewater was on the couch feeding our second born who had already woken up, and the first born pooped his pants so she had to deal with that too. Neither one of us was having too awesome of a night as it turns out. When I put the eggs and orange juice into the fridge I noticed there were ZERO tubes of butt cream in the bag. Are you kidding me? Then Mrs. Noisewater pointed out that I had picked out a booster seat with pink trim, and it was a little obnoxious. I would have noticed an entirely pink one, but since I was a little bit tired tonight and always a little bit color blind every night, the trim went unnoticed. Don't get me wrong, we don't assign gender colors or toys or anything else to our kids. As a matter of fact, Erik Noisewater has a pink unicorn back pack, and he rocks that fucker every day like a God damned champion. This booster seat was just tacky as all get out, so it had to go back. Plus I needed to go back for the chap-ass ointment that they had forgotten anyway.  

I got back to the store to see the two tubes of Desitin sitting on the counter, which vindicated me because a little part of me wondered if maybe I had dropped it somehow. They got me a very bland but not gaudy gray car seat instead, which was fine, until I got it home and noticed that it had a stain. I'm not going back. To hell with it. It will get more stains. 

So those are the kinds of stories I'll be telling from now on if anyone is still around. Sorry, no more drunk tales full of crazy nights and loose women. Nope. Angry dad with two Target trips on a school night - that sort of thing. Also, I should have a vasectomy coming up later this month for more dad blog fodder. Stay tuned. 

Sunday, December 29, 2019

4 Topic Sunday

1. Ryan Reynolds-Looking Super Dad

I was at the library with the family yesterday. At the Chicago Public Library you can get museum passes for free entries for your entire family. Nice tip right there for the 4 people still reading this page. Anyway, so I'm diddling around on my phone while my 3-year-old son is playing with other kids and another (and better) random dad, and I hear young Erik Noisewater say, "Let's make a Transformer!" The kids and the random dad were building things out of giant Legos that were about a foot across. I hear the random dad say in a slightly effeminate voice, "Does this look like a Transformer?" I look up to see that the son of a bitch had whipped up an amazing five foot tall robot in a matter of a couple minutes, and Erik was smiling ear-to-ear. This guy looked like gay Ryan Reynolds, he was in better shape than me, better looking than me, and on this day for sure, a better dad than me. He was on the floor with everyone's kids like the Deadpool Pied Piper Super Father doing all these creative things and with boundless energy. I'm so glad that this dude exists in the time he does so that he can get legally married to another man and have a family without judgement from anyone. Just think, if he were born 50 years ago he may never have been able to be the super dad he was born to be.

The face you make at other dads when you just made the perfect Lego Transformer.
2. Bane!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The other night I'm putting Erik to bed and he says to me, "Daddy, why don't you have muscles like Bane? Then he starts squeezing my pathetic arms, searching everywhere on them and saying, "Where are your muscles?" Thanks a lot, kid. I mean, I can't live up to the standard of cartoon super hero physiques, but he is right that I could certainly stand to put on a touch more muscle up top. He's like my little personal trainer now. I did some push-ups with him on my back yesterday, so he and I are working on it.

Overdeveloped the trap muscles a touch, if you ask me.
3. The 1980's, the Decade of Amazing Walkie Talkies

Do you ever notice in 80's movies the kids all seemed to have walkie talkies where they could talk to their friends from their respective bedrooms from a mile away? I was a kid in the 1980's, and I didn't know one kid who had those. We had the G.I. Joe ones where you were lucky to hear your friend in the next room, and even then it was like a bad McDonald's drive through sound so you couldn't make out what the F he was saying, as if it what he was saying was anything more important than "Can you hear me?"

We have the Jolt cola. Repeat. We have the Jolt cola!!
4. How was everyone's holiday?

Mine was pretty awesome. It was our first one waking up in our own house with Santa coming for the kids, so pretty exciting stuff. We discovered a new drink too: Captain Morgan and egg nog. We call it Captain Nog. I just love that name. Captain Nog sounds like a ruthless cutthroat gangster on the high seas. Drunk with white goop all over his beard.

Captain Morgan Freeman himself.

Wednesday, December 18, 2019

The other day Erik Noisewater was having one of those mornings where he was not at all helpful with the whole getting ready for school process. Everything was a no. He kicked and tried to squirm away as I dressed him, and then in the car he was laughing and straightening out his legs, intentionally making it impossible to buckle him into his car seat. I said, "Erik Noisewater, you're going to make me late and get me fired." Perhaps that was a touch dramatic on my end and not entirely fair to blame a toddler - I could have always gotten up 10 minutes earlier.

This is when he said, in a teasing voice, "Someone's going to get fi-red."

I stopped dead in my tracks and wondered why in the hell he would say such a thing to me, even if I deserved it.

A few minutes later on our drive it dawned on me that it was a quote from "Bumblebee," a Transformers movie that he has seen 9 times, and he applied the quote to the perfect circumstances. In the scene the female main star is working at a shop at the amusement park when she accidentally spills a tray of sodas all over the handsome popular guy's shirt. He doesn't even seem mad about it, and in fact sees it as a great opportunity to take his shirt off and show off his chiseled abs. However, evil popular blond blog girl says to her, "Someone's going to get fi-red." Later in the movie evil popular blond girl also teases her about her father being dead. I was kind of hoping Bumblebee would run her over, but he does stomp on her car, smushing it up like an accordion. So good enough. For now.

No, there aren't any love scenes - before you ask.
Bumblebee is actually an enjoyable film; the only of the live action ones worth watching in my opinion. It actually has a great soundtrack since it takes place in the 1980's. The girl's favorite band is The Smiths, so that was a pleasant surprise.

Be good, friends. And remember, sometimes when a kid gives you some shit, you just have to laugh and remember that you just may have had it coming.

Sunday, December 15, 2019

My friend was visiting from Spain this weekend. It was awesome to get our kids together. His 4-year-old was teaching my 3-year-old Spanish, and it was amazing. We all watched the Bears lose, but it was still great.

Erik Noisewater and I watched the Rudolph special that has been airing every year since 1964. Do you think there are any civil rights undertones going on with Rudolph being hated on for his red nose and the Island of Misfit Toys? I tried to help Erik understand why the characters might be sad given today's climate of making America hateful again.

I missed the staff party at my work, but apparently it was interesting. So a guy called a woman a bitch, and her husband works there, so husband says "say that again," so he does, and then they get in a brawl rolling on the floor, and . . . I'm just glad I wasn't there.

The Rudolph show had me all emotional with my son, and I know it's one of those years where "It's a Wonderful Life" will have me bawling. It does me in every time. Do any of you have some forms of art where you avoid indulging in it too much out of a fear that it will lose its power? You just can't pop on "Stairway To Heaven" every week. You got to save it up, man! That's how it is with "It's a Wonderful Life" for me. Sometimes I take a pass on it to ensure that it will still kick my ass emotionally as hard as it did the last time.

Thursday, December 12, 2019

2 Holiday Confessions

Sorry I missed a post yesterday. The heat went out on a freezing Chicago night with a baby and my mother-in-law in the house, so I was a busy man last night.

But I'm back with a couple of Christmas television confessions.

1. I love watching The Great Light Fight where people compete to see who can have tackiest, gaudiest, most expensive, elaborate Christmas decorations on their house and yard. I got questions. Where do they store all that crap the rest of the year?
How high is their electric bill in the winter months?
Are their neighbors pissed off from the ultrasonic lights blasting into their windows and anamatronic Santas singing songs all night long?

2. I also like to make sure that every holiday season I flip on at least a few minutes of a Christmas episode of a daytime soap opera. This one is harder to explain. I can't really say why I like it. It's just so corny and the people are so pretty and acting sometimes sucks so hard. I just like it, okay? Not everything needs a reason.

Happy Holidays, Seven Readers.

Tuesday, December 10, 2019

We like to sit down and have dinner as a family every night humanly possible, and during that time the television is not allowed to be on, unless it's a Chicago sports playoff game or "Wheel of Fortune." We figure it has letters and words, so it's kind of like learning. As a matter of fact, young Erik Noisewater calls it, "The Letter Show."

It turns out Pat Sajak is sick and Vanna White is hosting! Apparently this has happened once before, but this is the first time I have known about. I found her quite charming as a hostess. Also, she is 62-years-old and looking really good. The wife and I were noticing that she had to check the little card a little too often to verify that the person had solved the puzzle, but I do that too when I'm playing poker, or even UNO, even when I'm almost sure I know what my one card is - I still check to be sure. So I can't pick on Vanna.

With Vanna hosting who would turn the letters? Well, she just touches them now, but I'm old enough to remember when she had to rotate them. I'm also old-ballz enough to recall when the contestant took they money he/she won and went shopping in a living room packed with crap. "I'll take the love seat, and I guess the ceramic dog."

Okay, that's 4 days in a row posting a blog by my count. Pretty good considering I had just gone like 6 months with complete radio silence. So, even if it's a mundane detail such as who I saw host a game show, you're getting an update, damn it.

Not 62 in this picture.