Sorry honey, Mommy can't sign this because it'd be irresponsible. Now let me get back to my hooker parade.
Being difficult with people has so many nuances that it’s high art.
And you are the Picasso of difficult.
Trust us, everyone admires this quality in you, especially in the areas where your difficult nature rears itself like a reddish-purple boil that can’t decide if it wants to merely nag or set off Armageddon inside your inner thigh.
Boils, you see, can be feared when they’re difficult, and so can you…at work, at the grocery store, at your child’s sporting events—and yes, especially when it comes to your child’s school.
This is wonderful time of year to be difficult, since your kids will bring home numerous forms—including field-trip permission, homework verification and psychological profiling —from the so-called authorities at school.
Truth is, these do-gooders want your signature for unseemly purposes to be used at a later date, which is why you should routinely refuse to sign any of your child’s school paperwork unless it involves voting for tater tots as the main course for every school lunch. (This great country of ours was built on faith and tater tots—or as we believe, a healthy faith in tater tots.) [Click to continue...]
Eff Mary and her little lamb. You're getting a fawn.
Have you ever witnessed the wonder in a child’s eyes when he spots a deer during one of your walks?
We have. Many, many times.
And while our first reaction is, “Hey, I bet it would be really cool and comforting to rub my face up against that deer’s lush white tail when I’m sleepy and a little drunk,” our second reaction is infinitely more practical:
“I absolutely must get a deer for my kid as a pet because no one else has one, and we would be considered all progressive and a little edgy. I want a deer, and I want one right now.” [Click to continue...]
Remember kids, it's only a crime if you get caught.
Yes, it has come to this.
Not necessarily because your paycheck is lighter or you’re struggling to pay the mortgage, but merely because of the existential thrill of giving your child career alternatives.
Besides, everyone needs a hobby, and playing the clarinet will get your kid roughed up in school.
Lest we forget, in the long run, this benefits you, since you should encourage your child to pilfer things that you need. [Click to continue...]
Now don't be greedy, there are enough Coors Light lunch boxes for everyone.
It’s that glorious time of year when highly educated and underpaid personnel, otherwise known as teachers, take over your major responsibilities.
And the mad men and women of Madison Avenue promote this seasonal transition with the idea of buying everything new: clothes, shoes, pencils and food stuffs like party wieners—all of which signal to your children that we are about to usher in another season of massive consumption.
You are not against the transition. In fact, it gives you more time to riddle caregivers and school personnel with long-form complaints. But you are against massive consumption, the kind that has made America weak in the knees for special offers in the snack aisle at Wal-Mart.
That’s why you’ll show your children and the insensible masses where you stand by doing your back-to-school shopping at the county dump. [Click to continue...]
Try to clean some of the food particles out before we put them on your little brother.
Dentists are always trying to tell you that every child’s mouth is different.
They’ll blather on about overbites and under-bites and pie-holes that are too big or too small.
But, really, a mouth’s a mouth—and this happens to be your third child’s mouth, so it really makes no sense why you should have to pay thousands of dollars for your 12-year-old son’s mouth of bent metal when your 14-year-old daughter just had her braces taken off. [Click to continue...]
THEY will learn to adapt. YOU won't have to wait up on Friday nights.
The dull pain, hovering below your skin like teenage heartache itself, began around 3 p.m.
By 5, a mere hour before you were to pick up your date, the missile penetrated and expanded your pores in a flame of shame.
That’s right, you possessed—like some kind of suburban booby prize—a mammoth zit with a fury and size that only teenagers can experience.
And it didn’t really matter where the beast presented itself. Chin, forehead, nose, ear lobe (and underrated spot that rendered earrings impossible), temple, upper lip, lower lip, cheek bone or just above the eyebrow, as if you’d gone 18 rounds with a prize fighter.
While the agony of these events are too numerous to recall with any type of clarity, there’s something you got out of these ghastly experiences of facial disobedience: they built character. [Click to continue...]
Oh come on, like you've never seen a urine-filled Gatorade bottle before.
There’s no good reason why you need to get from Omaha to Yellowstone in 12 hours, other than your brother Nick said he pulled it off in college in a VW bus.
And Nick has pretty much been humiliating you in everything from dating to badminton to mustache-grooming since you were teens, and you’ll be damned if this douche-bag of a brother is going to hold this road-trip-timing record over your head.
Which is a long way of saying that you’re not stopping at McDonald’s or the interstate rest stop for your children to relieve themselves.
But the reasons for not stopping go far beyond Nick.
Not stopping for bathroom breaks builds a whole new dimension of character in your children. Truth is, they’ll learn as they squirm. [Click to continue...]
She has her mother's eyes. No really, we took them from a Barbie doll her mother owned.
Well, sure, your kid is 6 months old, and people keep telling you how cute she is.
But as they ramble, you sort of detect a tone that says, “But, looking at you, I’d say your baby’s cuteness won’t last long—I give it maybe another three or four months, tops.”
This near-sighted buffoon might be on to something. [Click to continue...]
So, when Cowy goes to college, I can have his room?!
Organic farming practices are something to adore.
They produce gnarled, marble-size potatoes and apples as tasty as a kiss from a farmer who has been making his own organic toothpaste since 1965.
Which is why it makes perfect sense to raise what we like to call “organic barn children.”
Organic barn children are a bold answer to the parental refrain, “What? Do you think you were raised in a barn?”
[Click to continue...]
So wait, how long did your parents say they'd be out of town?
So, you have this sweet opportunity to attend a semi-nude Renaissance Festival in upstate New York where a couple of dudes from Phish (including the back-up drummer) are playing on Saturday night.
The tickets are cheap, the timing is right (the kids are only playing four soccer games on Saturday instead of six), and you can almost smell the booze/urine/body odor cocktail you’ll be inhaling all weekend.
Only problem: What to do with your children?
They’ve worn out their welcome with the in-laws, especially after the unfortunate incident with the nacho cheese and the Citronella candle. Which means that your best option is to dump your children on other unsuspecting parents. [Click to continue...]
Rule #75: Arm Your Teen With Water Wings
Rule #74: Tell People Your Child Has Special Powers
Rule #73: Use Your Child as a Thermometer
Rule #72: Give Your Kid a Trophy For Everything
Rule #71: Fake Memory Loss
Rule #70: Register for Your Baby Shower at a Pawnshop
Rule #69: Transport Your Child in a Hamster Ball
Rule #68: Strippers, Feel Free to Enjoy “Take Your Child to Work Day”
Rule #67: Use Your Stroller as a Battering Ram
Rule #66: Ban Kids From Your Lawn