“Sometimes I lick the fridge.” “Said while licking the fridge.”
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The Boy: “Stupid, stupid.”
Me: “Are you calling me stupid?”
The Boy: “No, I was just saying that at a porcupine.”
Category: daddyblog
Posts about being a dad, incorporating posts from our Fergomas blog
Perhaps a bit too literal
The Boy: “Superheroes eat lots of grains. Batman eats bugs.”
Makes the seeking part a lot easier
The Boy: Can we play hide and seek?
Me: Sure, after your bath we can play hide and seek for five minutes.
The Boy: I’m going to hide in a very secret place.
Me: Where?
The Boy: Not in your office!
Me: Are you going to hide in my office?
The Boy: Yeah.
Can’t hurt to ask
Me: “Would you like yogurt and figs for breakfast?”
The Boy: “Yeah. Yogurt and figs. And a liiiitle bit of chocolate ice cream.”
Thanks. He’s here all week.
Long-time fans of The Boy may recall his first joke: somewhere around the age of 18-24 months, he put his bowl on his head and said, “New hat.”
He tried his first traditional-format joke tonight at dinner:
Me: “Tell us a joke.”
The Boy: “Does Dr. Doofenshmirtz poop in a car?”
Me and The Mrs: “I don’t know. Does Dr. Doofenshmirtz poop in a car?”
The Boy: “Yes.”
Daddyblog: cleaning stanky Crocs
When The Mrs and I got married, we decided we didn’t want to have a traditional wedding; we wanted a big, easy-going, fun party for all our friends. Then we realized that once you start trying to plan a party for 175 people, it’s easier to go along with The Machine. So, we had a big, easy-going, fun party for all our friends. In a ballroom. With a wedding planner.
When The Mrs and I decided to progenerate, we decided we didn’t want him to be just like all the kids knuckling under to consumerist conformity. Right. Then we actually had him. Yesterday we bought him a shirt at Old Navy. And his green Crocs are his favorite shoes. He likes the little “expensive” things that you can stick through the holes.
Just like every other kid in America.
Unfortunately the Crocs bring together a couple of factors in a distinctly unappealing manner. Plastic shoes, hot weather and, not to put too fine a point on it, my boy’s stanky foot sweat. Faced with the prospect of traveling across the country on an airplane with him and his little injection-molded odor holders, I googled “cleaning Crocs.” Here’s my amalgamation of the tips I read:
- Fill a sink with warm water and 1/4 cup baking soda.
- Soak for 20 minutes, turning occasionally as though they were, I guess, a pork tenderloin. Eww.
- Scrub with a green scrubby, paying special attention to the gray unk along the white trim strip.
- Throw the green scrubby away. Far away. Perhaps cut it into little pieces.
- Rinse well, or they’ll be slippery.
- Dry picturesquely in the morning sun.
They gleam like new. Bye bye, boyfoot pong.