I’m pleased to bring you my first ever Whiteboard Wednesday Guest Post.
Chad Jones is a hilarious dad of two who I suspect sticks his foot in his mouth nearly as often as I do. He blogs about the bizarre (and slightly-less-bizarre) aspects of faith as well as being both a dad and husband. The guy can pen a sentence, so you should check out his blog, Randomly Chad.
But before you go gallivanting to read my Arizona pal’s blog, read his post below.
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I’m a dad. Have been for a little over thirteen years now. Indeed, I
was in my twenties when my parenting odyssey began, and it wasn’t
until I was thirty seven that God decided to throw my wife and I a
curveball. Or drop a surprise bomb (in the form of a little girl) in
our laps.
Whatever.
I mean, up until then–when my daughter arrived–and it was just me,
my wife, and our son–in large degree, I still had “it.”
It being my “mind.”
Somewhere in the five intervening years, I seem to have lost it.
What I mean is that in my mind, I have these perfectly formulated bon
mots of parental wisdom, of instruction and guidance, that somehow
become garbled as they travel the neural pathways of my speech center
(maybe an extra loop-de-loop in Broca’s area?), and make their exit
via my vocal cords and pallet.
To wit, the other evening–as is my practice–I cleaned up after
dinner, and was preparing to get my daughter ready for bed (which, of
course, includes showering and the brushing of teeth). In so doing,
she said “Up.” Meaning that she wanted me to pick her up.
Fine and dandy. I intend to enjoy picking her up and holding her until
she’s too old to want to be thus carried. Maybe when I’m old, gray,
and feeble she’ll return the favor. 😉
What wasn’t “fine and dandy:” her breath. It was rank. Ranker than
rank. It smelled like three-day-old Kung Pao cat turds left to ripen
in the summer sun had crawled in her mouth, and made their home there.
Yes, it was that bad.
What I intended to say (what I thought I was saying): “Sweetie, your
breath is really bad. Dragon-bad. We need to brush your teeth.” (She
laughed, and exhaled right in my schnoz. Whew!).
What actually emanated from my mouth:
*
Now it’s Whiteboard Wednesday, so I ask:
What bizarre things have you said or heard recently?
I’d comment but I have to run to take a shower right now.
DANG coffee.
It does that, doesn’t it? Are you sure that a shower can wash away coffee breath?
Mr. Serious? Really? 😉
Thanks for having me over to your place! Had a blast writing the post.
Ironic, of course. I had originally put “If you think this one’s a mug shot, you should see his last one” (but I wasn’t sure if you’d find that insulting or funny). 🙂
That would’ve been hilarious! I guess that photo does look like a mugshot compared to the pics on my blog. 😉
I see nothing wrong with telling your daughter that.
I intend to be frank and insulting to my son at all times.
Good on you, Ricky! You’ll learn as your son grows that he’ll have no problem being frank and insulting to you. Trust me on this–little boys grow into mouthy 13 year-olds. My advice? Give as good as you get. 😉
Laughed out loud at this. I wish I didn’t have the memory of whatever it is with no memory because I’ve said some funny things to my kids recently based on what they were doing/saying. There is no greater inspiration for crazy stories than your kids. Popping over to Randomly Chad now.
Catherine, what you said is so true! My kids (as I’m sure yours are) are great sources of amusement & consternation. Thanks for reading!
I have been waiting for this all week!!
On Saturday, we were all sitting around watching college football on TV. On one of the plays, the quarterback was looking for someone to throw the ball to, couldn’t find anyone, so started running with the ball himself. A defensive guy (DG) came at him, dove at his legs to tackle him, and the quarterback fell down. However, since the DG dove at his legs, the DG landed on his stomach, while at the same time, the QB fell down backwards on top of the DG, basically sitting on the guy’s back. The QB then basically bounced back up and started running with the ball again to get a few more yards.
My 6 year old son sees this and asks me, “why wasn’t he down when the guy tackled him? Why was he able to keep running and get more yards?” And to this I answered:
Because he didn’t go down on the ground . . . he went down on the guy.
Oh. My. Stars! Too funny!
Guess what I did to my child? Brought home Ben & Jerry’s latest creation, “Schweddy Balls,” that’s what.
Every inappropriate thing you can imagine being said by a 5yo was indeed said.
Wow. That is good.
I need some of that, by the way. Where, perchance, did you purchase such deliciousness (I assume!). I promise I will not share with my children!! 🙂
Misty, I got mine at our local Kroger’s affiliate, but I’m told they subsequently pulled “Schweddy” from the shelves. Other than B&J’s Scoop Shops, I’m not sure who else has it. 🙁
You’re cracking me up…
It’s amazing how just a loose and tangible description of a scent like “three-day-old Kung Pao cat turds left to ripen in the summer sun” conjures up visions of Rene Russo in Outbreak…full protective regalia and under a massive time restraint to stop the smell from spreading.
I thought “Kung Pao” brought a nice flavor to the table. 😉
We speak quite frankly (interpret that how you will) with our sons all the time. That way when someone at school says something nasty or mean, they can turn around and say, “Is that the best you’ve got? My dad can do better than that.”
I applaud your frankness, and indeed like that line about dad doing better. I’ll have to use that with my son.
Howling. Right now. I’ve got nothing to add here other than stifled laughter!
Awesome, Tor! That’s high praise coming from a master like you! Appreciate it!
The other day I was wearing a comfortable pair of sweatpants with a small hole in the knee. A friend’s three-year-old daughter walked up, pointed at my knee, matter-of-factly said, “Your pants broke,” and merrily skipped away…
Thankfully, it was just your knee–and not, shall we say, a more impolitic locale. 😉
Great post, Chad – and if you can’t be brutally honest with your kids – who can you be? My husband gets the same frankness from me too – and he still loves me 🙂
As I intimated above in reply to Ricky, if one can’t be frank with one’s kids, one loses. 😉
For instance, a game my son and I will play from time to time involves the playful hurling of epithets. I can let him win (sometimes), or go for the jugular (quite often). For instance, once in a particularly heated game, I guess I was emotionally over-invested–because I let loose with:
“Douchenozzle… Did I just say that? Don’t tell mom.”
This was followed by a “I won’t tell.. If you tell me what a douchenozzle is.”
It’s a wonderful feeling being blackmailed by one’s own children. 😉
I’ve got teens at home. They look at me daily like I am a Kung Pao cat turd… and shake their heads, sadly, at my patheticityness.
Being short on neural pathways that go anywhere useful, I open my mouth to set them straight and say, “Your mother eats gym shorts!”
Thanks for the laugh! : )
@writewrds
You eat gym shorts? Gross!
😉
And you’re very welcome! Always happy to bring some laughs.
Leanne, see what you have to look forward to in just a few short years? 😉
My wife and I went to Subway recently. I paid with a lot of ones. When I handed the cashier the money, I said “Sorry for all of the ones–my wife is a stripper.” I laughed; my wife did not. She is not a stripper.
And I hope Kristy socked you right in the kisser!
😉
That is too funny. I would have likely said, “Mind your own business or I’ll find another pimp.”
Ha! That’s really funny Matt. I have the same sense of humor (sorry, humour, I forgot I was in Canada) that gets me in trouble. And Leanne, I absolutely believe you would.
As do I; however, when one can’t say certain things in the home, there’s always the Internet. And I intend to master the possibilities. 😉
I’m going to start saying that to students who annoy me. The truth of it doesn’t matter. It will just be fun to stop class by telling someone, “You have bad breath. Take a shower.” That should shut them up.
Just yesterday my daughter–not knowing about this post–said, when I asked if she had bad breath, “Yes. I didn’t take a shower. Silly daddy.”
With this kind of inspiration I’m seriously considering canceling my subscription to that idea service in Schenectady. What do you think?
There is definitely a point when kids stop smelling delicious and start smelling stanky. You gotta tell ’em. Think of yourself as a helpful Public Service Announcement. 😉
That’s how I justify all the things I say.
Usually, that point arrives just about around the same time they start on solids, and are thus entirely oblivious to our parental consternation.
IKYKWIM
😉
Oh, this made me laugh! Thanks for sharing. Something truly happens to your brain when you become a parent. It seems to take an extended vacation, or so mine has!
It really, truly does. My mind is like that super market gossip rag. No, not the Enquirer–the “Expirer.” And an expiring mind wants to, you know, know why it’s expiring, why having children wreaks havoc with it.
“Cry, “Havoc!,” and let slip the dogs of war. Or something.
You may have the most versatile blog on WordPress, Leanne! You defintiely have the best gravatar!
Nicely done.