As I sit at my desk, typing up this blog post for your reading enjoyment, my fingers are crossed. Yes, you read that correctly, I am typing with the fingers of my right hand crossed. So don’t be alarmed if you come across a few typos, or entire words missing from a sentence, for that matter. Just know that it is a necessary evil that I must contend with if I want to provide you guys with these super intelligent and uber entertaining and informative blog posts. What could bring on such preposterous behavior? Why are you being forced to take such precautions? Should I have my fingers crossed as well? I know that these are the burning questions of desire on your mind at this very moment and I’m going to get straight to the point. YES, CROSS YOUR FINGERS, cross them now, go ahead. It is imperative for your future well-being. No, it won’t save you from some unforeseen impending natural disaster, and no, crossing your fingers won’t protect you from the next big pandemic that threatens to wipe humanity off the face of the Earth. But I’ll tell you what it will do; it’ll protect you from contracting the God awful CHEESE TOUCH!!!
As parents, we all stretch the truth a tad bit from time to time when dealing with our children: magical storks delivering babies, a fat guy who never gets arrested for breaking and entering on Christmas Eve, if you tell the truth you won’t get in trouble, the dog (who is dead) ran away, the list goes on and on. Well, at least at our house it does. Most of these little white lies are well intentioned, and designed to produce better more productive members of society out of our kids. Ah, who am I kidding, these lies make our lives easier; could you imagine how difficult the month of December would be if your naughty list got revoked? But what happens when parents start lying to their kids just for the fun of it? I’ll tell you what happens, if backfires!!! Don’t do it folks, reserve your lies, resist the urge to utilize these precious little tools for entertainment purposes.
It’s FRIDAY!!!!!!, YAYYYYY, we made it through another week. What better way to celebrate by having a little fun? I begged convinced my family to participate in this silly trend and create our own family Harlem Shake video. Since it’s Friday and everyone deserves a little jumpstart to their weekend, we decided to provide a little comic relief. Enjoy!!!
If you’re as clueless as I was about this whole Harlem Shake thing, read about it here before watching the video.
If you’ve participated in the madness that is the Harlem Shake craze, be sure to post a link to your vid below. We’d love to check it out.
I blame myself; all of the responsibility for what has happened to my sweet little boy can be placed squarely on my shoulders. I laid down the tracks for what he has become, can you blame him for driving the train to a predetermined destination? It’s my fault and I will someday make it up to him. Addiction is nothing new in our society, but seeing it pop up at the tender age of 4 is somewhat unheard of; the fact that the 4 year olds’ parent is actually the one who pumped the child full of the vice is both disturbing and appalling. I am not proud of what I’ve done, but I’m attempting to make amends for the monstrosities that have besieged my child due to my thoughtless and selfish behavior. This is my apology, not only to Tre, but also to the other members of our family that have been affected by his recent transformation.
So there have been a few events that have occurred in the past couple of weeks that got me thinking about some aspects of my life. The more thought that I put into it, the faster it began to set in that more than likely, my thoughts were actually true. Once I accepted the fact that there was no escaping this very real phenomenon that had suddenly begun overtaking me, I decided that I should probably share it with you guys. You know, kinda open up a little, and discuss my issues with a support system, that kind of thing. But then I started thinking, if I reveal this drastic discovery, how will my readers react? Will they still love me? Will they forever read my words with a judging eye from this day forward? I was totally ready to chicken out; until I had a conversation earlier today with a good buddy, in which it became perfectly clear that I could no longer hide this from the world, because more than likely they already know! That conversation is below:
Me: “You know, it’s been really difficult to find time to write blog posts recently. I just can’t seem to squeeze in the time I need”
Good Buddy: Can’t you use Siri and just speak your blogs to her? That should save you some time.
Me: Man, I really don’t like Siri; it’d end up being more heartache than anything.
Good Buddy: Yeah, probably not a good idea since Siri’s a smart ass. Your blogging would be like…. Keith: “Siri, take a note: Ty just came in wearing skinny jeans” Siri: “Should I place ‘Just For Men’ on your shopping list?”
Apparently, Evilness & Fashion Sense Don't Go Hand In Hand
Have you ever met someone who was just down right mean? When I say mean, I’m talking about borderline evil! I have met such a person, I have looked them in their eyes and lowered my head in shame due to their behavior. It isn’t easy to stare down the face of evil and walk away unscathed, but somebody has to do it, someone has to stand up for the little people, and yesterday, that someone was Ty.
How many of you know someone who is genuinely funny? I mean someone whose jokes literally make you keel over with laughter. They’re good people to have around right? These types of people can turn a bad day around with a few simple words. When they’re around, a smile is bound to be landing on your face within minutes. A person who can tell a good joke won’t find themselves with a shortage of friends very often, and for good reason. But what about those friends who attempt to be funny and just fail at it miserably? The people who couldn’t tell a good joke if there was a chicken and a road right in front of them (wait a minute, considering that last joke, am I one of those people?) That’s neither here nor there, this isn’t about me. No, instead, it’s about a little boy, a 3 year old little boy who I’m afraid is incapable of telling a joke. In my expert funny accountant opinion, I’d say he’s a class 5 bad joke teller. We all know that those classified as class five, are destined to live a life of being laughed at instead of laughed with. It hurts my heart that my very own little boy is walking down such a humiliating road, but without forking over thousands on improv comedy classes, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. If things continue in this manner, Tre may never know the joy of being able to make people laugh.
So Ty has been back for over a week now and I can honestly say that he definitely can tell that we missed him. From the time we picked him up at the airport until the time he went sleep that first night, you would have thought that all four of us were glued together at the hip. Activity after activity, game after game, discussion after discussion, it was all Ty, all the time. That first day, you would have thought we were the perfect ideal family, all smiling faces and loving gestures. Then the sunset, the moon came out and I swear those kids turned into werewolves overnight. The fighting, bickering, and competition picked up right where it left off, and that’s when I knew, that our family was back to normal. Read on to hear more about that magical event filled day that Ty came back home to his family. Check back next week to read about the days that followed, once the parade paraphinala was taken down and the cameras stopped rolling. Today, you get the happily ever after fairy tale, next week you get the nightmare!
Okay, so maybe “overcome the odds” is a bit much for the actual content of this post, but in a way, it is actually pretty fitting. That’s because Tre did overcome the odds; the odds of having an overdramatic Dad who didn’t take time out to think about his actions before actually acting on them. If you’re a bit confused, don’t worry, things are about to become clear in 3…2…1 remember this post: “A Horrifying Fairy Tale”? Yup that one, the one were I got a little too involved with my bedtime story duties. If you recall, my Big Bad Wolf was just a little too big and bad for Tre’s liking. It took Tre a while to overcome my debacle, but eventually the “Three Little Pigs” became his favorite book, replacing “Jack and the Beanstalk” completely. In fact, he’s listened to the book so much that we no longer have to read it to him, he takes care of that these days. Check it out!
From the look of the picture above, I guess it’s pretty safe to say that Ty lost this one. I really wish that I could tell you guys that this was an epic battle for the ages, complete with a training montage, Rocky Balboa style; but alas, I can’t. This thing was over before it even got started, I’m talking split second, one hitter quitter, wam bam thank you Ma’am. Looking at that picture, all I can think is, why my boy? What could I have done differently to protect him? The answer to those questions is staring me right in the face; I should have stopped this along time ago.