The Makeover

If you’re a regular visitor to this blog, you’ve probably realized that I’ve made a lot of design changes. Hope you like them. If this is the first time you’ve visited this blog, you don’t care about the changes and you’re probably disappointed because you’ve no doubt stumbled upon this page by mistake. Even so, feel free to look around.

I should warn you, though, you’ll quickly realize that there’s no pornography on this site, so my pleas to get you to stay are surely futile. If that’s the case, I can only say thanks for stopping by and good luck in your search.

As for the rest of you, check out the pictures I added. Pretty snazzy, huh? NASA should be calling me at any moment. And when you’re done here, check out Humor-Blogs.com. It has very little porn, but plenty of laughs. Or is it the other way around?

Writing at a 19th Grade Level

For Valentine's Day, in addition to a thoughtful gift, a delicious home-cooked meal and an overall pleasant evening with my family, I also received a rather big surprise. Keep in mind, I've always been annoyed at people who tout their very young children as "geniuses" or "prodigies" simply because they seem to be advancing a little faster than the average child their age. But I think I'm being completely objective when I say my infant son may truly possess such qualities.

Just before opening the boxer shorts that he got for me, which I can only assume he paid for with money he stole from one of the other pre-toddlers at his daycare, or earned in a manner that would shame even the kids working in Nike factories, I read the card that he made for me. It read, and I quote:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Thank you for changing

My diapers o' poo

I'm very glad 'cause,

You might realize,

I'm near to the source,

So the stink burns my eyes

But mom and I think

The time is now here

For you to tend to

Your own stinky rear

To help with that task

This gift is for you

Use it when changing

Your own pile o' poo

Honestly, even if it was someone else's child, I would think that's pretty good for an 11 month old. Now I admit the content is a little crude, but kids his age tend to find subject matter like this funny, so I overlooked it. What I can't overlook, though, is that he's able to read and write before having even said his first word. Not only that, he can write in rhyme. That's a little unusual, right? I mean, I'm no child development specialist, but that seems advanced.

I don't want to jump the gun, but I think it's safe to say my wife and I can plan for retirement in no more than five years, after he's patented his invention that lets you travel through time or reach an actual person when calling your insurance company.

He Likes It in There

The other day my friend Brad gave me some unsolicited advice on child rearing, which was this: as a means to keep my son from wreaking havoc when we’re in public, we should tie him to a leash. I told him I was not comfortable putting a leash on my 11-month-old child because of the freedoms it would provide. That’s why my wife and I like to keep him in a type of rolling cage.

Actually, the cage itself doesn’t roll. We have a more crude design in which he’s placed inside a small, but ample-sized crate that sits atop a wagon, which we pull through stores/restaurants/the doctor’s office, etc… Sure we get a lot of disgusted looks, as well as some rude comments about our mental well being, but it’s like I told my friend – we’re raising a child, not running for office.

Besides, some people just need to feel like they’re better than you, and if our caged offspring gives them that sense of superiority, then so be it. We’re more than capable of dealing with the outlandish comments, like “You will permanently warp his social skills” and “You’re treating him like an animal,” by pointing out to the accuser that their pants make them look fat or their teeth look like piano keys.

But whatever your view is on the matter, let’s all try to keep a little perspective. It’s not like we’re going to send him to public school or something.

And in case you thought I was joking...