“Roofied” by a Three and a Half Year Old

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While at Michael’s Art Supply store, Justin asked me if he could have a toy. He picked out a package of “Grow Creatures”. They come in a package of 10 or 12 and look like medicine capsules. (Major design flaw!) To “activate” the toy, you place it in hot water and wait for the magic to happen! The capsule casing will dissolve and the sponge-like creature will form an animal shape ten times its original form.

As I get older, I realize that Justin’s questions are getting better. However, I’m not yet ready to end a sentence in “Because I said so” – so I now look things up before he asks. Here is a better explanation of what happens with the “Grow Creatures”: “They are made of a hydrophilic (“water-loving”) polymer called a hydrogel, similar to the absorbent chemical in modern disposable diapers. The hydrogel is combined with another polymer which is hydrophobic (not rabid, just “water-hating”), which causes the animal to hold its shape as it grows, and which helps it maintain its shape as it shrinks if removed from water.” (Let’s see Justin ask a follow-up question to THAT explanation!)

I’ve told Justin over and over again – don’t eat the “Grow Creature”, just put it in hot water and wait!

This morning (while I wasn’t watching), he decided to place a capsule in my HOT coffee to watch it grow. I didn’t notice it until I pulled a “Sponge Tiger” out of my mouth.

In retrospect, three things went horribly wrong:

1)    Justin “Roofied” me. He slipped a “pill” into my coffee!!!

2)    Justin actually followed my instructions. He put the “pill” in a hot liquid (as instructed) and he did not eat it (I did!).

3)    Once again, Justin demonstrated “out of the box” thinking that I was not prepared for.

So, the lesson here is: If Justin is near your drink and he looks guilty, something is very, very wrong!!

Oh, Shit…I’m Shot!

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While GWE was on a business trip 2 weeks ago, I decided to take Justin to Target to get his first Nerf gun. As I see it, you’re not really a man until you’ve shot someone with a spring-loaded, plastic toy. We picked out three brightly colored guns (with extra ammo) and came home where I proceeded to show him how to load, aim, and fire his new weapon. For the next three days, we ran around the house and backyard shooting each other in the head! We both had a fantastic time and it was a great way for us to play together (and have him burn off some of that “Super Justin” energy he’s got so much of!)

However, this morning, Justin showed me his true colors! He eagerly woke me at 6:15am with his usually rant of “I’ve got to go peepee….I wanna watch “Spongebob”…..I want a mini-bagel with fruit!” I sat him down at the peninsula so he could watch me make breakfast and he could still see the TV. I got him a glass of milk and then proceeded to make him a delicious and nutritious breakfast. While my back was turned I heard him giggle to himself and assumed that he was laughing at the TV. I should have known better.

The next thing I know, I heard a “click” and then Justin shot me in the back with his Nerf gun. As I turned around, I saw him out of the corner of my eye grinning from ear to ear and trying to quickly pull back the mechanism to reload the gun. This little assassin actually got off two more shots (at my ass) while I was trying to find one of the other guns. As I quickly turned around to fire, he yelled “ALL DONE…ALL DONE!!!!!” and he lowered his gun to show me that he wasn’t going to shoot me again. He then told me he was sorry and told me to put my gun away. At the moment I chose to put my gun down on the counter, he pulled out the other gun from behind his back and shot me in the head again!!!!!! What the hell?!?!? I tried to make him breakfast AND show him mercy and he shot me in the head while laughing like a deranged mad man!!!

Let’s see if he likes being woken up at 3am with a Nerf gun pointed at his head! 🙂

Three Wheels, Two Pedals, and No Fear!

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If driving a tri-cycle is any indication of how Justin will be as a driver, we’re all screwed.

One week ago, I took Justin and his Harley Davidson tricycle to Balboa Park. I assumed it would be an uneventful trip and that I would need to push him along since I’ve never seen him go more than ½ a mile an hour. Oh, how wrong I was. As soon as I took his bike out of the back of the car, he jumped on it as quickly as possible and SPED OFF! I hadn’t even shut the back of the car yet and he was already speeding towards the playground. I quickly ran after him and caught up to him where the path splits. He sat there for a second and debated – “do I go right to the playground or do I go left to the path that goes around the pond?” Then, he decided on a third option – he chose to “off road” it directly to the ducks in the pond. He turned a hard left, started pedaling, and ended up going down a steep glassy hill as fast as humanly possible. There was only one thought that went through my head – “he doesn’t know how to stop!” Once again I chased after him and was able to grab him and the bike 4ft from the edge of the pond. He then turned to me as if nothing had happened and said, “Look daddy, DUCKS!” Needless to say, I kept my hand on the bike the rest of the time we were there.

In an attempt to give him more freedom on the bike, I chose to go to a different park yesterday afternoon. The park on the corner of Balboa and Paso Robles has a gated biking area for children. It has painted lanes, gas stations, stop signs, etc. This is where I discovered that Justin truly is the worst driver I have ever seen. First of all, Justin prefers to bike in one direction while having his head turned 180 degrees (or, he like to look straight up into the sky). He likes to move forward, but prefers to see where he’s been. He also weaves in and out of lanes! His lane is his lane and your lane is his lane! Somehow, he always managed to turn the wheel at the last second to avoid driving straight into a fence or pole. I have no idea how he did it, but it is a trick worthy of any stunt driver.

Also, Justin thinks that biking is a contact sport. He believes that his purpose on a tricycle is to collide with anyone else riding their bicycle as well. I watched him smash into a little girl riding a “Little Mermaid” bike with training wheels. I watched him smash into a little boy on a scooter, and I saw him go after a guy who was wearing rollerblades. (This reminds me of a funny joke – what is the hardest part about rollerblading? Answer: Telling your parents you’re gay.)

And finally, I realized the extent to which Justin mimics both GWE (Greatest Wife Ever) and I in the car. Several times, I watched Justin stop, do something to his eyebrows, and then continue biking. After the third time, I asked him what he was doing. He told me that he was “fixing his make-up”. (I assure you that this is not something he learned in my car.) I then got a dose of my own medicine by watching him drive and act like me. He would purposely pull up right behind another child on a bike who had stopped. He would then obnoxiously ring his bell and yell “Get out of the way Schlubbies.” (This is my toned down version for when he is in the car with me.) It also seems as though he’s observed those few moments when I may have forgotten he was sitting right behind me. Once, I watched him pull up behind another little girl at the pretend gas station and yell, “Move it asshole, I need gas.”

I truly hope that these are not indicators as to the type of driver Justin will grow up to be. If so, I need to call our insurance guy to give him a 12 year “heads up” that Justin will be needing extra coverage!

Adventures in Reproducing

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Hello Reader!

Traditionally, this website has been about Justin and his crazy escapades with “daddy”. However, this posting will be a little different – this content is not for children, the language may be a little graphic, and the only person who is embarrassed by this is me. Enjoy!

As many of you know, GWE (Greatest Wife Ever) and I love Justin. We love him so much that we’re trying to make another one of him. However, after a few months of failed attempts, GWE decided that we needed to take a more clinical approach and have doctors check us out to make sure that we are not broken. I have no problem with this. GWE has gone in twice to have blood tests and that’s a big deal for someone who doesn’t like needles! The LEAST I could do was make a donation of my own! 🙂

However, as I’ve explained to GWE, it’s possible that the reason we have not been successful is that we repeatedly attempt to “git ‘er done” AFTER long, stressful, and exhausting days. It’s also tough to get excited about this after I’ve spent the last remaining hours of my day rough-housing with Justin only to end up getting kicked in the groin. (see “Family Jewels” posting). And “baby making” sex is not romantic….at all. I feel like a marathon runner who has no idea when the race will begin, but knows that at any time the starter pistol will be fired and I’m expected to be “up-to-speed.”

So, here is my experience….I walked into the doctor’s office last week and was immediately handed a form to fill out. Many of the statements, questions, and requests would have made me laugh hysterically if I were an immature teenager. Sadly, I am an immature adult and I did laugh out loud. And, this being the 21st century, I also had my cell phone on me and took a picture of the document to show to my friends. Many of these statements are as follow:

1)      Semen samples are collected by masturbation. (Gee, thanks for that tip! Let me mention here that this “donation” cost me $125.00. If I were in Vegas, I’m fairly certain that for that amount of money – someone would have provided a service to get the semen out of me!)

2)      Before producing the specimen, wash hands and penis with soap and water. (Because nothing turns me on more that washing my kibbles and bits in a cold, porcelain sink with the pink soap that can also be found in the bathroom at Dodger’s Stadium.)

3)      Keep the container upright and at room to body temperature during transportation. (This phrase is probably here because some idiot decided that it may be wise to put his specimen in the freezer for preservation only to have a family member open the freezer, take it out, and mistake if for Freeze-Dried, Space Ice Cream.)

4)      Collection Method: A) By Masturbation B) By Other…explain. (Yes, please explain to me how you got that sample without masturbation! Are you The Amazing Kreskin?!?)

After I filled out the appropriate paperwork and paid the fee, I was invited into a private room for some alone time. The room was small and contained a sink, a TV/DVD combo, a cabinet, and a slightly reclined “Love Seat.” While giving me a few simple instructions (none of which I can actually remember) I watched the nurse take out what looked like a durable potty cover that could be found in any public rest room and then she placed it gingerly on the sofa. At that moment, the reality hit me that hundreds if not thousands of strange men have masturbated on that spot. To me, this was no longer “The Love Seat” – it was now “The Slut Chair.” It had been around the block and when I finished it would probably think to itself, “Eh, I’ve had better.”

I was then told that the pornographic movie in the DVD player was already running and all I needed to do was turn the television on when the nurse left. She then told me “good luck” with a smile and closed the door. I got as comfortable as possible (in this situation) turned on the television and started to watch the movie.

You should know – I like porn! I really do and I’m not ashamed about it. I’ve seen A LOT of it (thank you internet). And, you know when you’ve seen A LOT of it? It’s when you have the realization that you just watched something that you never wanted to see and now it’s too late because you just saw it. Didn’t realize that was a midget? Too bad, you just saw it. Didn’t realize they were doing it in a horse stable for a reason? Too late, you just saw a horse penis!

However, nothing could prepare me for what I was about to watch – 80’s porn! That’s right, porn from the decade before hair removal! First of all, I’m fairly certain that the doctor’s wife chose this particular movie because the dude in the movie had MUCH more screen time than the unattractive, overweight woman he was trying to have sex with. There was so much hair – it was like watching two Wookies have sex. Second, there was “mood lighting.” In an attempt to make it seem like this couple was having sex at night, someone decided that it would be a good idea to flood the set with a blue light. So now – it’s like watching two characters out of “Avatar” having sex. And third, (and weirdest of all) the porn had a soundtrack! It was orchestral and continued to build in intensity (totally blocking out the sounds of the two blue, hairy beasts attacking each other – um, I mean “making love.”) Even the music seemed to suggest to me, “Hurry up, finish, and get the fuck out of here!” AND…. in order to not disturb the other patients, I was required to wear headphones. (Yes, you read that right.)

There I was with my pants around my ankles, watching ‘80s porn, specimen cup in one hand, my “friend” in the other hand, wearing massive headphones, while sitting on a paper napkin in “The Slut Chair”. I had two very clear thoughts at that moment: 1) This reminded me a lot of the final moments of “Clockwork Orange” and, 2) “I hope I don’t die. I would hate to be discovered like this.”

And finally, the worst part of all….

They must have had the DVD player on all day. When I started watching there was only 2-3 minutes left. Then, it started rolling into the credits. Then, the DVD player had to restart the DVD. Then, it had to run though upcoming titles. Then, it had to run the opening credits. Then finally, the DVD started again! What should have taken me just a few minutes to get done now took me 30 minutes because I was waiting for the damn DVD!! I’m certain the nurses were outside my door playing “rock, paper, scissors” to see who would have to check on me.

I’m sure you’re probably asking yourself, why didn’t I just go up to the dvd player and push the buttons?? Good question! I tried that and it seems as though the doctor’s office doesn’t trust their patients with the porn because there was a clear plastic shield (with a lock) preventing me from doing anything to the DVD player!

In the end, I finally made my “donation” and left the container in their lab to be checked. The doctors are probably examining my sperm under a telescope right now and trying to figure out why my swimmers look embarrassed. After this experience, I’m fairly certain that everything is fine and both GWE and I are just being overly cautious. However, I know that if I ever have to do this again – I’m bringing my own butt cushion and I’m calling ahead with my porn requests!!