Category Archives: MOGWE

Magnet Mania!

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More magnets have arrived for the Man Cave!
Mag1This is from GWE and it’s from the Margaritaville Casino in Las Vegas. One of the problems with being related to me is that you must (by default) become a “Parrothead.” I’ve got two little Parrotheads in training and it’s nice to have a visual reminder in the Man Cave! “Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame”…but, since there are no girls allowed in the Man Cave – it’s kinda difficult to assign blame like that!

Mag2These wonderful magnet additions are from MoGWE and FoGWE. It’s been a little too cold recently to add them to the Man Cave, but they will be going in before the end of the week!!

Thanks again, and keep the magnets coming!!

He’s No R. Kelly!

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While on the way to Justin’s first school chorus performance, Justin and I were immaturely joking around in the car. We…………….. (ahem)…ok, I was being immature and using potty humor with Justin – but he was laughing hysterically, so he instigated my behavior. He made me do it.

I asked Justin how he would feel if I ran up on stage, turned around, pulled down my pants and mooned the audience while he was singing. He giggled and giggled. I then asked him if I could run up, moon the audience, and then flap my butt cheeks. He laughed out loud. Finally, I asked if him if it would be ok if I ran up on stage in the middle of his performance, mooned the audience, and then started farting along with the music. He convulsed with laughter.

When he finally caught his breath, he said, “Daddy – you need to run up on stage, pull down your pants, and then pee pee on everyone.” Together, we howled at this sick potty humor. We had no intention of doing these things. We’re men and these things simply make us laugh.

What you should also know is that Justin and I have our own, non-verbal language. It started years ago with me pointing to my eye, then my head, then towards him, and finally pinching my nose. (“I think you stink.”) He sends me similar messages as well.

However, I was not prepared for how far Justin was about to take our potty humor from the car in combination with our non-verbal language this past Sunday morning moments before getting on stage with his classmates.

While standing in between two female classmates, Justin waved at me to get my attention. He then mimicked pulling down his pants, grabbed his “Little Justin”, and fake peed on those around him – all while smiling directly at me.

My first reaction was massively inappropriate – I fell over laughing. I tried to compose myself as I raced over to him (while still laughing). I told him that he could not do that…we would both get in trouble. He did it a second time just as my mother-in-law came over to wish him luck. I’m pretty sure I was in more trouble at that moment than he was. With her help, we successfully got him to stop just moments before going on stage. (While sitting at lunch a little later, I was able to explain to her what led up to Justin’s mime act.)

I’ve learned a very important lesson here (both personally and professionally) – my pep talks to the “talent” need to be a little less graphic!

Justin Is Such A Tool

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(In this picture, Justin is "trapped" between the bottom drawer of the crib and the metal frame that holds the mattress in place.)

I would like to think that I contribute in a meaningful way around the house. I do the dishes, bathe the kids, take out the trash, kill things with more than two legs, and every once in awhile – I’ll vacuum (with a real vacuum, not the Dust Buster.) There are only a couple of things I can’t stand doing. And, there is no greater torture in my house then when I am called upon to raise or lower the mattress in the crib. I was recently asked (about 46 times) to lower the mattress so that Garrett wouldn’t flop out of the crib. Secretly, I delayed doing this because I was really hoping to walk into his room one morning to find him “riding the rail” like a cowboy waiting for his turn on the bull. The pressure from GWE and MOGWE became too great, so I caved and attempted to lower the mattress.

While it sounds like an easy task, it is deceptively complicated. In order to lower the mattress, you must unscrew the bolts on the metal frame that holds the mattress in place and then re-attach the screw and bolt comb into another hole while pushing down a metal “arm” that is spring loaded. This becomes insanely difficult because the new holes line up directly across from the bottom of the wooden frame – thereby blocking the screwdriver from direct access. You must go in at an angle…and you have to do this 4 SEPARATE TIMES!!!

On Saturday, I braced myself for the worst. I emptied the crib of all of Garrett’s toys (and Garrett), lifted it on its end, and began to unscrew what I could reach. With sweat pouring down my face and swear words pouring out of my mouth, I was just about to give up when Justin came into Garrett’s room and asked, “Whatcha doin’?” I stared at him for a moment. Maybe I was delirious from the heat or maybe it was the pain in my back, but when Justin walked in – I saw my oasis. There he stood….tiny hands, tiny fingers, tiny body…AH HA!!!

I quickly grabbed Justin and threw a pair of flat-nosed pliers into his hands. I instructed him to grab the bolt with the pliers and squeeze like he was crushing a bug. While he was squeezing, I quickly went to the other side of the crib and twisted in the screws as fast as possible. We finished an hour long job in about 15 minutes.

As it turned out, Justin was the best tool I ever had!!

All I Want for Passover is My Two Front Teeth

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It is said that we celebrate Passover to commemorate the story of the Exodus from Egypt. During the Seder, there is a lot of praying, a lot of Manischewitz, and the occasional plague. This year’s Seder was unlike any other for two reasons: 1) We discovered that “teething” should be added to the list of deadly plagues. And, 2) I almost considered reenacting Plague #10 myself by killing our first born due to his uncharacteristically obnoxious behavior. What started as such a promising and exciting celebration ended in frustration, tears, and delicious left-overs.

We arrived at the home of MOGWE and FOGWE at the time they had requested. GWE and I unloaded the car and brought in bags of clothes for the kids, toys, playmates for the baby, food for the baby, etc. Anything and everything we could have needed, we brought – just in case. It looked like we were moving in. Justin was happy to see his Uncle Ethan and everyone proceeded to move into the den for appetizers and drinks.

FOGWE surprised Justin with a remote controlled car. I immediately told Justin that he could play with it, but to be careful and not drive it over his baby brother who was lying on the play mat in the middle of the room. Justin handed me the car and asked me to put batteries into it. I proceeded to quickly load the car with batteries, placed it on the ground, flicked on the remote….and then I drove it directly over Garrett!!  (Yes – I am a wonderful role model.)

What you should know is that Garrett has been teething recently. There is saliva (“slime”) everywhere. It’s on his clothes, his chin, and his fingers. He swallows it so it’s in his belly and comes out with his poop, ie diarrhea. GWE and I decided to pick him up and place him on my lap so that he could see the Passover Appetizer action! He smiled, saw the chopped liver and gefilte fish, and then blasted 4 oz of a baby formula/saliva mix all over my pants and GWE’s pants. We were “slimed” for the evening. There is nothing like having hot-and-then-ice-cold puke on your clothes for the rest of the night!

Then, we passed him off to MOGWE, who gave him a few more ounces of formula. Garrett proceeded to thank her by spitting up a few more ounces all over her blouse, pants, and shoes. She passed him back to us and left to get changed again. In the meantime, we were struggling to soothe Garrett out of discomfort due to his teething.

We all then proceeded to the dinner table. GWE had Garrett to her right and I sat diagonally across from Justin. As FOGWE attempted to lead the table in ceremony and prayer, he simply could not be heard over the sounds of my five month old babbling out of pain and my five year old being silly at the table. Justin knows when he has a captive audience and that dinner table became his playground. He would not be quiet, he would not sit still, and he would not follow directions…..so, he was being a five year old.

After a VERY abbreviated ceremony, GWE decided to try and put Garrett to sleep in the crib. At this point, we were both starting to get worn down due to Garrett’s discomfort and Justin’s behavior. After a few minutes, we decided to check on him. He was as awake and as pissed as ever.

As the traditional Matzo Ball soup was being served, GWE and I made the executive decision to bring Garrett back to the table to give him his solids. I sat in GWE’s seat to feed Garrett, GWE took my seat, and then Garrett began to devour whatever I put into his mouth. It only took about 10 minutes for Garrett to finish his food and for our food to be served. However, this was 10 long minutes and Justin was nowhere to be found.

I decided to pass the baby back to GWE and I went searching for Justin. Unfortunately, I found him. As I opened the bathroom door, I discovered Justin with his hands in his hair and his hair soaking wet. There was water EVERYWHERE! He had wet down his head and used the liquid hand soap as shampoo. “JUSTIN!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!” I demanded to know. “I’m cleaning my hair, daddy,” he replied. I grabbed the towel behind him, tried to dry his soapy hair, gave up, and then marched him back to the table. He knew I was very upset, but I was exhausted and tired of him not listening. As we got closer and closer to the table, he begged to not be seen. My patience had ended and I tried to drag him to the table – kicking and screaming. MOGWE stepped in and decided to take Justin back to the bathroom to clean him up. I sat down and began to quietly eat my chicken.

Honestly, the rest of the evening was kind of a blur. I remember dessert and Justin finding the Afikoman. But, that’s about it.

As we drove home in silence, I thought about the evening and how it actually was reminiscent of a real Exodus. We had come to the grandparents’ house in hopes of good food and shelter, but my two little plagues practically destroy everything. And then, we were free to leave.

The Origin of Garrett

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Of all the stories that I’ve shared on this blog, it dawned on me that I have not shared the origin of Baby Garrett’s name. I was thinking about it while reading an article from Dr. Lisa Quick. As she points out – one of the common themes in choosing a baby’s name is, “How will it affect the outcome of their lives?” Is Little ‘Moshe’ destined for life as a Rabbi? Will ‘Sheldon’ only be good at accounting? I think GWE and I were partially relieved to discover that we were not having a girl because it saved us from having to judge possible girl’s name by their “Stripper Potential.”

“Please welcome to the stage….Bambi!” No. “Please welcome to the stage…Tiffany!” No. “Please welcome to the stage…Selma!” Maybe!

GWE and I began tossing around potential names the evening we found out we were having a boy. Many of the names we liked when we were choosing Justin’s name no longer seemed to be in the running. We had a few new choices, but nothing we were married to.

Then, last May, GWE and I were in Atlanta visiting family. It was a stressful week because it happened to be the same week all of the networks were deciding which television pilots to pick up. I had booked only one pilot that year and I was in a panic. The client was Garrett Morris and the show was a small, unknown ½ hour pilot called, “Two Broke Girls.” On the night of my parents’ anniversary dinner, we were driving back to their house when Garrett called to check in. While on speakerphone, in front of my parents, wife, sister, and soon to be brother-in-law, I informed Garrett (jokingly) that if this show got picked up – I was going to name our unborn baby after him. We all laughed about it.

Later that night, GWE turned to me and said, “That’s not a bad idea.” I asked her what she was talking about. “Garrett,” she said. “I like the name Garrett.” The next afternoon we found out that “Two Broke Girls” was picked up.

As the months leading up to Garrett’s birth passed, we continued to contemplate names. Some stayed on the list, but many came off. “Garrett” remained the entire time. Typically, in the Jewish faith, you name your child after a relative who has passed on. And while we were certain that we would do this with his Jewish name, we were seriously considering going against tradition and not only naming him after a person who was not a family member…but, someone who was still alive!

At some point as a parent, you are faced with actually making a final decision about the name of your child. And, I had to seriously think about it. Were we really about to name our child after Garrett Morris? Seriously?? The “Base-ball been berry, berry good to me” guy?? As I thought about it, I realized that this was a man who had been my friend and someone who stood by me at a time when many would not. This was also a client who had enough faith in my professional guidance and my career to convince me to come back to a business that seemed like it didn’t want me. Garrett had shown me friendship, loyalty, and trust. These are the qualities I wanted our son to have. And so the decision was made – “Garrett” would be the name for our son.

Now, there is a part of the story that GWE did not know until right now. (Sorry, hon.) Since I’m putting this story in writing, I wanted it to be accurate…..so, the following is true. Three weeks before “Little” Garrett was born, I told “Big Garrett” about the baby’s name. We were backstage at a taping of his show and as I was leaving, I turned to Garrett and told him that I would see him next week. He replied, “You mean the week after. We’re on hiatus next week.” At that moment, it dawned on me that there was a possibility I might not see him until after the birth. And…to tell someone you just named a child after them seemed too important to do over the phone. I took a moment and made a judgment call. I then asked him if I could talk to him in his dressing room for a moment. He looked concerned and let me in. And then….I just said it – “Garrett – GWE and I love you, you’re important to us, and we’re naming this baby after you.” At that moment, I saw him turn white, stare at me for a moment in disbelief, and then reply, “Holy Shit!” We talked for a few moments about it and then I swore him to secrecy. I asked him to please act surprised when GWE and I called to tell him the good news. He did!

There is one more funny part to this story. Just as we had with Justin, we refused to tell anyone the name before the actual birth. However, we did tell MOGWE (Mother of Greatest Wife Ever) and FOGWE (Father of Greatest Wife Ever) that the name began with “G”. We would never acknowledge if they were correct, but they were allowed to throw out names to gauge our responses. For weeks, they would ask us about every “g” name in the book. We politely smiled and moved on to another subject. On the Sunday before Garrett’s birth, MOGWE and I were sitting on the sofa and she turned to me and said, “I know you didn’t name him after a 74 year old comedian.” I smiled back and said, “Of course not!” All the while, I was laughing to myself while thinking – “Well, you’re in for a big surprise!!”

And that is the origin of “Garrett.”