Thursday, February 24, 2011

What is the nutritional value of furniture?

      
      I completely understand the whole teething thing, but I am  forever amused by the things kids choose to use to alleviate their discomfort. I've even seen adults who aren't teething have chewing obsessions on everything from ice and toothpicks to Velcro, sleeves and hair. Even though I'm forever telling people "Get that out of your mouth." I still manage to chew on my own fingers like they were beef sticks...thanks for that habit mom. I haven't had nails since I was five.
      It seems my family are a bunch of chewers. I was under the assumption I was from German and Irish decent but apparently my ancestors were beavers.
      As much as my mom will hate this, I think she started it. She has always bit off her fingernails. She says it's A nervous habit, but at least she's reasonable about it, after all she stops when she hits the cuticle. That isn't even the worst part of my mothers chewing issues as she once informed us that when she was a kid she would bite off her toenails. I don't know what about that freaks me out the most; biting the toenails or knowing my mom was that flexible once.
      My dear mother passed it down to her children. As I have already shared, I personally enjoy a good finger when I'm nervous or concentrating on something, but my sister was a different story. Imagine being a parent, waking up and going to take your sweet little girl from her crib only to find she had eaten it. It was something my parents could not prevent no matter what they did. She had first eaten the varnish off the crib, then she proceeded to gnaw on it until it looked like it was dam worthy. Every morning her mattress and the floor seemed to be covered in shaving. Looking back it kind of reminds me of what happens when you give a hamster a chew block. And of course she's the one who lucked out with perfect teeth.
      My eldest was also a fine connoisseur of wood. He had taken a liking to my coffee table and even picked a favorite corner on which to snack. No matter how many times we shooed him away, washed the table or covered the corner he would find his way to it and gnaw away. The biggest problem was that I liked to put my feet up on the table. This would sometimes be a problem for him since I seemed to be in his way. So in order to be sure I understood my place, and that the table was his he'd bite my toe to make me move before fastening on his napkin and sitting down to brunch. I wish I had known I was an appetizer I would have prepared a sauce. I'd of course politely inform him that if he wanted the table he needed to call ahead. 
      The younger one had a couple of favorites. I would come home from work; hug the boys, goose the wife,  sit down in my chair and reach over to grab the remote...and sure enough I'd be slimed. My beautiful remote would be completely covered in baby demon saliva. On more than one occasion we'd be sitting down watching TV and suddenly the channels would start changing leaving us looking for poltergeists, only to find a very content child eating my remote and smiling. I never liked explaining to the cable company why we needed yet another remote  so I just told them it was the dog.
       When we eventually broke him of his taste for the remote, by hiding it in places that we could never remember, he found a replacement, and we called him Kenny. My oldest son had a very large collection of wrestling action figures, dozens of wrestlers that I brought home for him constantly. He had so many I couldn't keep track, but the little one, he knew what he wanted and it was Ken Shamrock. Out of all the action figures available he picked that one, and ONLY that one to be his new chew toy. He would not give it up, or even trade it. My son begged and bargained "Here take Hulk Hogan instead, look he's all yellow and stupid" but no, only Kenny would do. He would run around the house with Kenny hanging upside down from his clenched jaw smiling and drooling while making happy "Guuuuh, Guuuuuuuh" sounds. It reminded me of a 50's stop motion movie where the dinosaurs would start eating people and they'd be hanging off giant teeth. I sometimes felt bad for Kenny and his mangled foot.
     We had all the teething rings you could buy for both the boys but they were instantly discarded in favor of tastier fare. We'd hand the boys those lovely teething rings that you put into the freezer all nice and cold begging to be chewed on. They would grab hold all wide eyed and anticipatory, making happy cooing sounds, only to bounce them off our forehead ten seconds later. It's not much different then when you buy your kids some expensive toy and they only want to play with the box. I thought about going into business making teething rings that kids would actually like, maybe in flavors like Oak, the corner of books, molded plastic and table leg, but so far no investors. My boys are growing up healthy and strong so I guess it didn't do any permanent harm, so who knows maybe kids need a daily recommended dose of furniture.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

The Pizza Paradigm

      It's hard enough being a parent to any child but my kids are highly precocious, and ridiculously smart (when they want to be). Put these together and what you get are giant smart asses, just in case you haven't figured it out.
      Both of them are insanely picky eaters. My oldest hated pizza until he was twelve or so and gets nauseous at even seeing mayonnaise and my youngest 's favorite food is macaroni and cheese, but hates, HATES cheese ?!? He loves mayonnaise and puts that and ranch dressing on everything.
      Last week my little one (let's call him Satan shall we) Satan decided to go off his macaroni and cheese kick and become obsessed with pizza. Please, sit back and enjoy my pain.

   Monday
My Son: "Dad, can we have pizza for dinner?"
Dad: "No, we just had pizza yesterday."
My Son: "So"
Dad: "So, I'm not eating the same thing two days in a row"
My Son: "Then order it without peperoni this time."

      Tuesday
My Son: "Dad, can we have pizza for dinner?"
Dad: "No, We just had it two days ago"
My Son: "But thats not two days in a row."

      Wednesday
My Son: "Dad, can we have pizza for dinner?"
Dad: "No"
My Son: "Why"
Dad: "Because I said so."
My Son: "But..."
Dad: "No buts, and no pizza."
My Son: "I didn't want buts just pizza."

      Thursday
My Son: "Dad, can we have pizza for dinner?"
Dad: "No, I have something thawed and I want to make it before it goes bad."
My Son: "What is it?"
Dad: " Fish"
My Son: "That's already bad."

      Friday
My Son: "Dad, can we have pizza for dinner?"
Dad: "No, I'm trying something new tonight."
My Son: "Try saying yes to pizza, that'd be new."

      Saturday
My Son: "Dad, can we have pizza for dinner?"
Dad: "NO."
My Son: "What are we having then?"
Dad: "Crap on a cracker."
My Son: "I thought you said we couldn't have the same thing two days in a row."

      Sunday
My Son: "I'm hungry, whats for dinner?."
Dad: "Pizza"
MY Son: "Really?"
Dad: "Yes, It's getting too late to cook"
My Son: "Then can we go to Burger King?"
Dad: (RRRRIIIIPPPP!-sound of dad pulling more hair out.)

Thursday, February 10, 2011

The Zombie Hypothetical

      In my long career as a dad I’ve had only male offspring (as far as I know) and I’m fine with that. Yes, I’m one of “Those” guys. I’m sure you know the type; Football is a religion, Godzilla films are an acceptable choice for movie night, salad only belongs on the top of a cheeseburger and I can save the little woman from the evil rampaging spider-That type. So yeah, all boys were fine with me.
      There are so many great experiences for a dad to have with his boys, but one of my favorites is the time alone with my youngest in the car just having ridiculous conversations. A favorite topic of ours seems to be zombies, most specifically what to do when World War Z hits. For those not in the know, WWZ is a reference to the inevitable zombie apocalypse.
      I know great subject matter right? Well he should be prepared shouldn’t he, you know…just in case. To be specific, a conversation we recently had was regarding the best weapons to carry when traveling the post-apocalyptic wastelands of zombie earth.
      After convincing him that a good sword is a better melee weapon than either an axe or a sledge hammer we decided on either an AR-15 or M-16 along with a shotgun and a sidearm with a clip rather than a revolver. My son is partial to the Desert Eagle so I let him win that one. Of course though he felt the absolute need for explosives of some kind, “At least frag grenades.” he pleaded, so I let him have that as well, after all what ten year doesn’t want to blow stuff up…ok blowing stuff up is cool at any age.
I thought we had finished our conversation and settled on the necessary tools of self preservation when from the seat next to me came the simplest of questions, “When?”
      “When… what?” I asked.
      “When are we getting the grenades and stuff?”
      “No, buddy” I replied, “We’re not really getting the weapons that was just a hypothetical discussion.”
      “What’s hypothetical?”
      “Well that’s a ‘what if’ kind of question. It means something that COULD happen.”
      “Well, Dad, if it’s something that COULD happen, don’t you think we should be prepared?”
I turned and looked at the smirking little smart-ass and said “I’m not buying you grenades boy…your Mom would kill me.”
      “Not if I hid them under my bed, then she wouldn’t know”
      “Just no”
      “Then why did we even bother with the hypochondriac …zombie stuff?”
      “Not Hypochondriac, that’s your grandmother, hypothetical, and we did it just for fun.”
      “Zombies aren’t fun unless you’re killing them Dad.”
      “No guns, no grenades, no swords, not until you’re at least twelve, this isn’t Texas.”
      “Fine dad, but if the Zombies come don’t blame me if I eat your brains.”

Thursday, February 3, 2011

America's Unofficial Holiday.

      This Sunday is one of the biggest days of the year for Americans. Super Bowl Sunday is an icon of American culture forty-five years after its very humble beginnings. The immensity of the day now overshadows the game itself, and has turned the day into a national celebration. Six hundred and fifty million dollars will be spent on bagged snacks like chips, pretzels and popcorn. Fifty million cases of beer will be sold and well over one hundred and fifty million American friends, families, and co-workers will gather to share the day.
      This Sunday's game is primed to break all records for game attendance and viewership as two of the most deeply loved, well run, and successful franchises in the world of sports meet for the first time. The Pittsburgh Steelers who hold the record for most Super Bowl Championships with six, as well as appearances, this Sunday being their eighth will face off against the three time Super Bowl champion Green Bay Packers who not only won the first two Super Bowls but the game trophy itself is named after legendary Packer coach Vince Lomabardi. Just talking about it gives me chills and in my head I can hear John Facenda's unmistakable voice narrating my thoughts. It is truly one of the most epic franchise match-ups in Super Bowl history.
      Despite most of America coming together on this day, there are always the vocal minority who feel they need to have their unwanted and incorrect opinions heard. I used to work with this curmudgeonly old lady  who refused to watch any movie not distributed by Disney, and upon hearing me refer to Super Bowl Sunday as America's Unofficial holiday got very vocal and angry telling me in no uncertain terms that is was not a holiday.
        My first response was who the heck peed in your corn flakes? My second thought was...well not printable here if I want to keep it at all family accessible. Then it came to me that I had really never thought of anybody denying this fact before. I said "unofficial" surely that must blunt some of the trauma of her being told that people around these parts find football important, frankly I'm surprised she didn't know. Long ago football passed baseball as not only it's national past time, but a national obsession, and Super Bowl Sunday is the epitome of that.
      I wondered if her anger had anything to do with the fact that when she was a kid the national past time was swabbing the Mayflower's deck or if this was a reaction to the word holiday. Assuming it was the later I'd still be confused, after all the etymology of the word has changed greatly since it was taken literally as Holy Day as many other words have.
      Holiday's have become so much more than just religious celebrations and have even grown past patriotic one's. Just for example consider Labor Day, Martin Luther King Day, and well... New Years Day. I mean seriously what the hell is New Years Day for? All anybody does is watch random College Bowl Games while swearing to God they will never drink again. How is that a holiday in any sense of the word?
      Even Thanksgiving, which is absolutely one of my favorite holidays and one of the most revered and celebrated in this country has no religious or truly patriotic meaning, but it is very important to us none the less. It brings us together with our loved ones to celebrate with food and football, wait sounds familiar doesn't it?
      President's and politicians from both sides of the aisle have referred to Super Bowl Sunday as America's unofficial holiday. As far as I new those were the people who decided what constitutes a holiday, even official ones. Super Bowl Sunday in my eyes is most definitely a holiday whether it's official or not. How many days bring people together like it does? How many days contribute to the American economy like it does? How many days have American's all doing and thinking about the same thing, united in an endeavor, sharing in a moment like it does?
      Now, Super Bowl Sunday isn't even the best football day of the year that would probably be reserved for Championship Sunday two weeks earlier, it is however, America's Unofficial Holiday because it represents America so well. It's a huge party that allows people to indulge in too much food, and beer, be loud, opinionated and pour their hearts into something that allows them to escape from their bad marriages, stupid bosses and co-workers, and everything else on their mind while still managing to remain a day dedicated to American consumerism at its best (or worse). You need to look no further than the famous Super Bowl commercials to see that.
       But, It's also a day when families, brothers, fathers and son's can come together, can take time out of all those daily woes to bond over a common passion. It's a day when friends can get together and renew bonds that have strained because work and family obligations have left them no time. It's a day memories are made and shared and reminisced and I can't think of anything that is more like a holiday than that.

 ON A PERSONAL NOTE
 I want to add a separate thought here. a very personal anecdote if I can. Feel free to ignore it if you wish.

       I have been watching Super Bowls so long I barely have memories of when it started. Although it started when I moved next door to my grandfather when I was three. He inspired my love of  football and the Pittsburgh Steelers at that young age, and it is a bond I have kept with him through these many years. I have watched Super Bowls with numerous family and friends through the years and have valued every one of them.
      There was a year though that I was living with my biological sperm donor (I believe you call them fathers) when Super Bowl Sunday came around. On that day he decided to go bowling. I sat alone watching the game, It was Dan Marino's rookie season and I would love to have had that memory to share with someone, instead, on what should have been one of the happiest days of the year for me I was alone, depressed and miserable. That was the day I pulled out his man card and tore it up, and it was one of the final straws in our relationship. He had left us as children, he had left me alone on Super Bowl Sunday, and it was part of a pattern of abandoning his children that would continue and eventually sever our bonds with him.
       It saddens me greatly that this Super Bowl Sunday, one that means so much to our family, will be the first one that I will not share with my oldest son, he has chosen to be elsewhere, but I am overjoyed I will still have family and friends here with me. I will treasure the time because these moments are getting fewer and further between as my children and I grow older. I wish my father had not been so selfish and had realized how much it meant to me that he stay whether he wanted to or not.
       You think I loved all the time I had to spend watching Pokemon cartoons and movies and card tournaments do you? But as a father these are the things you do, the sacrifices you make that allow you the privilege of being called Dad. For so many of you it's not too late to share a moment, bond and laugh with someone you love and don't forget as short as life is it's not always about what your doing but who your doing it with.