Hooray for the madness!

Howdy again all,

                Like I said, I had to make up for being such a lazy piece of crap for the last two weeks and as promised, I have to tell the tale that has lead us to me watching The Ewok all by my lonesome tonight. So, my wife and I had a plan to go see one of our all time favorite bands play last Saturday at The Varsity Theater in Dinkytown. We had it totally planned out. We would go up Saturday late morning and go to my brother-in-law’s house and hang out for a while with our nieces for a few hours, go get some food and then head to the show leaving The Ewok with my brother-in-law and his wife for the evening. We would go to the show, rock our socks off, return to my brother-in-law’s house, sleep there for the evening, get up, have breakfast, leave in the late morning and then head to visit some friends, stay for about an hour, then head home and be back by 3pm. Well, due to Fat-dad being a total idiot…that whole plan shit the bed.

                On Thursday while at work, I get a text from my buddy that bought the tickets asking when we were planning on leaving Friday. I thought he had a made a mistake on the day…nope. So now I am in a mad scramble. Can we find a babysitter? Maybe my in-laws? Should we just bring her? We ended up deciding that my wife would just stay home with her and I would go and just find someone to buy her ticket. This is just another example of why my wife is a damn saint. I got out of work late, but met up with my friends and we zipped up to the cities. I am about to go on a very short tangent that has nothing directly to do with my daughter, so I apologize. The band we saw was Motion City Soundtrack. My wife and I saw them for the first time when we were 16 or 17 and still in high school. Between the two of us we have seen them play at least 30 times if not more. I know they are just a band, but they have been a huge part of our lives as we have been listening to them for well over 12 years. When my wife left to go to school in Milwaukee, one of their song lyrics kept us going “if we keep swimming baby this will never die”. One of the first posts on Fatterhood was named after one of their songs “The Future Freaks Me Out”. This show was a part of their farewell tour as they are breaking up and this was going to be our last chance to see them. So this is why her sacrifice is truly impressive.

                The show was awesome. Don’t want to rub it in to any fans out there…but it was. I made it home at about 2 am. Woke up the next morning and we made our way back up to the cities since my brother-in-law and his wife were kind enough to clear their whole Saturday/Sunday for us, we decided to head on up and visit anyways. We also decided to utilize our very first babysitter. We decided to go out to dinner in Minneapolis. I was totally distracted while eating dinner, because I didn’t know what to do. For the last two months I have a little creature with me whenever I am eating. It felt so strange. We were going to go see a movie, but we decided that it was getting too late and we probably wouldn’t stay awake anyways. We thought maybe a comedy club would be fun. All of them required reservations and all of the available shows were at 10pm. So…on our very first date night while baby-less, we ended up going to Target to buy diapers because they had a sale on Huggies. (Side note: m             y wife is a coupon master. There was a deal on wipes and diapers, mixed with a manufacturer’s coupon and topped off with a cartwheel deal. It was honestly impressive, even the cashier was impressed) We decided that it happened…we are lame as shit now. My Mom used to say that she used to be cool and then I was born. I get it now…

                We went back, I stayed up bullshitting and drinking with my brother-in-law until about 3 am. The next morning I regretted that decision almost immediately as my family was kind enough to let me sleep until about 10, but we had 2 very hungry nieces on our hands by this point. We went out to dinner and I hate myself stupid. We said our goodbyes, the 4 year old refused to say goodbye because she was mad that we were leaving. It was a glimpse of Fatterhood future yet again.

We then drove about an hour to a friend’s house to meet up with them. We realized we hadn’t seen them in almost 3 years and they just recently had a new baby. So now they have a 3 year old and a new born. Like I said, I don’t like to use people’s names in these posts without their permission, so let’s call these high school friends of ours Jenn and Sven. We arrive at Jenn and Sven’s house and their family was over as well. Since we come from a small town it wasn’t awkward at all, we knew them and they knew us. I would explain all of the connections, but it would get very confusing. So Jenn’s sister and her husband (we will call them JJ and Ebony) were there with their baby that was born in March. It ended up being kind of surreal to be with the old gang from high school in the home that one of them owns and we each had kids, right after being at a show that made me feel like I was in high school again. We talked parenting, caught up, and generally bullshitted. It was a whole new kind of fun. Most of my guy friends are single and living the bachelor life, so being in a room filled with parents and we are talking about how our daughter poop on us all the time. Not sure which one I like better, having someone to commiserate with about the ups and downs of parenting or going out and drinking and getting to be a general dumbass with the boys. Apples and oranges I guess.

Anyways, we said our goodbyes and made our way back home. By the time we make it home, I am tired, hung-over, and hungry as all shit. Apparently, so is Da Butt (minus the hangover of course) and she isn’t having any part of dad’s planned nap time. She just starts screaming and crying and shaking. I am trying to calm her, but it’s at this point that while screaming in my ear at full volume…she grabs a big handful of my beard and pulls with all of her tiny might. I lost my shit. I white girled it. I couldn’t even! Gave her to my wife and her trap shut right up. I made dinner, we ate and all was good in our world again.

How does all of this leave me alone with my daughter tonight? Well…Motion City Soundtrack is such a popular band, that they have sold out 5 shows at the Varsity Theater for their farewell show. Our buddy is such a big fan, that he bought tickets for multiple nights and he happened to have an extra ticket for tonight’s show. So my amazingly awesome, patient, beautiful, funny, smart wife…will get to go see Motion City Soundtrack for their last time in their hometown. She deserves a night out for sure. Sucks that we couldn’t go together because my dumbass can’t read a ticket stub, but I am glad that we both got the chance to see them. I will of course be writing a post about how tonight goes…

If you are interested at all, I highly suggest checking out some of Motion City Soundtrack’s music.This is one of my personal favorites. I have always described it as happy sounding sad music for sad people trying to be happy. In the meantime…hooray for the madness and prost. Thank you for reading.

Dad is not a babysitter!

Howdy all,

                Fat-dad had been absent for far too long. The last 2 weeks have been a whirlwind. I had my very first Father’s day! It was fantastic. My wife let me be sooooo lazy that I made a rug look ambitious. Da Butt and I took sooooo many naps and watched almost an entire season of Supernatural. It was amazing. Elizabeth got me a gift and that girl already gets me, although I do think she might have had help from my wife. She got me a new coffee tumbler with one of her newborn photos on it. For those that don’t know me personally, on an average day I drink enough caffeinated beverages to kill an average sized moose, so it really was a perfect gift.

                Work has been trying to kill me, but my wife has been great about sending lots of pictures to me every day. It is amazing to look through my phone and see how much she has grown in just over 2 months. I know this is not a popular thought, but even though I think my daughter was born gorgeous and perfect, I still think all newborns look like little old mean. They are bald, they have scrunched up faces, no teeth, they poop themselves, etc. Now, obviously my daughter was the cutest little old man, but now she is growing so much. Now she reminds me more of a Mr. Potato Head that cries and instead of having extra parts in her butt, she has massive amounts of shit. She is starting to develop a personality. For about a month or so we have been getting plenty of smiles out of her. The big toothless grins are just heart melting. But over the last week or so, we have been getting giggles out of her. She laughs kind of like Peter Griffin from Family Guy right now. According to my wife, she giggles at pictures of me, which isn’t all that surprising as I am a goofy looking guy. I have seen her now laugh at her own farts, which to me is more proof that she is mine than any genetic testing available.

                2 or 3 weeks ago, we were at the mall so my wife could do a little clothes shopping. This may come as a surprise to some, but Fat-dad got really bored and decided to take Da Butt to a few different stores that I would enjoy since she was out like a light in her stroller. Ewok and I left and we went to a few different stores, but I made a fatal mistake while looking at video games at Game Stop…I stopped moving the stroller. Idiot! She woke up fussing almost immediately. I pulled her out of the stroller and put her on my shoulder and tried to comfort her. Right here I learned how to get through a line quickly. There were 2 people in front of me in the checkout line, but with a crying baby on my shoulder they parted like Moses parting the Red Sea and told me to go ahead of them. I don’t know if any of you have ever made a purchase at Game Stop, but normally they have a billion questions before you can leave the freakin’ store with your purchase. “Are you an elite member?” “Do you know about our rewards program?” Blah blah blah. Not with a crying infant. I have never seen anyone move so fast.

                I left the store with Da Butt resting on my shoulder and we made our way back to my wife because it was becoming apparent that she was hungry. As we are walking through the mall, I was eyed up by sooo many people. At first I felt a little self conscious about it, because I thought maybe I didn’t look like the type of guy that normally holds an infant, so maybe people thought I stole a baby. But after a while, it became apparent that many people still are used to seeing just a Dad and an infant with no Mom present. I had a lady give me a thumbs up. But I did have one say something that is kind of the basis of this post, “So nice to a see a Dad taking a turn babysitting.”. Now, I know what she meant, but I was really tempted to say, “Bitch, I’m a dad, not a babysitter!”. But after I stopped and thought about it, for the majority of human history, Dads really have been able to skate by. Pretty much as long as you knew your child’s name, kept food on the table, roof over the family’s head, and could at least remember what month the kid was born in, you were pretty much considered Father of the Year. Of course that description is not every Dad throughout history, but as an overall average, it is fairly accurate. But in this day and age, the dynamic has shifted and I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I WANT to be a part of my daughter’s life and it bugs me that there are still a few pieces of shit out there that don’t.

                I found out that I was not alone in my thoughts. There is an entire social media movement based around the idea that Dad is a parent, not a babysitter. I was doing a lot of reading on the subject and I found an army of Dads that are very similar to me in that regard. But I did also find a few things that I called bullshit on. Like I said, I totally agree with their overall message, but it turns out this is the group that also looses their shit every time that there is a commercial that shows a Dad in a negative light. We all know the commercials, (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qlfxumj9R68) we giggle at them and we move on with our day. Not these dudes. They flip out every time one of these is aired because it shows Dad as less of a parent. I see where they are coming from I guess, but come on! I still consider myself a parent but I will totally admit that I am not as good at it as my wife. She has been waiting for this her whole life and has been essentially studying to be a mom the whole time. Where Fat-dad here, used to like to get lit and watch Teletubbies. Of course I am not going to come out of the gate at full speed. I do my best and I am learning something new every single day, but I usually learn my lesson after making some REALLY stupid mistake. I think it is half the fun of being a parent to be honest. Go talk to your parents after reading this, if they only tell you about the amazing things they did and how they never made any mistakes (Moms included) then, mozel tov! You have the best parents in the world! But my guess is the majority of their stories will be the times that they messed up.

                I don’t get too bummed about any of this anymore by the way, as I stated before, I am slowly realizing that my endeavor of “not changing” is doomed from the start. I spent 8 years in a Catholic school, and even God himself changed after having a kid. Don’t believe me? Flip through the Old Testament. God is constantly sending down plagues, smiting sinners, drowning the planet, etc. But then flip through the New Testament, all of a sudden, Jesus the son of God shows up and the messaging changes. Instead of eye for an eye and all sinners will be cast down to the pits of hell, it’s “Love everyone and let’s all get along”. If God himself can’t keep up his former lifestyle, I don’t think I should beat myself up too much if I drink less beer.

                There is a certain amount of irony with this post, tonight will be the first night that I will be totally solo with Da Butt for about 8 hours. Yep, Fat-dad is on babysitting duty…I will be doing another post about what lead to this and of course will have to do a post about how tonight goes. So you will have to keep your eyes peeled. I am sure it will be a train wreck. Don’t forget to like Fatterhood on Facebook to get more daily pictures and funny comments without having to read my full diatribes. As always, thanks for reading and prost!

Da Butt that made Milwaukee famous

Hey Gang,

As promised I will have to share the tale that was Elizabeth’s Milwaukee trip. Before I start this delightful yarn, I do have a small update. As of Monday, Elizabeth has started a new type of crying. I am attempting to get a good video of it, but it starts with a grin, then the face shifts to a eyes wide open look of shock/horror and her arms start moving back and forth (almost giving you the impression that she is excited) and she then proceeds to let out the most ear piercing scream/cry you have ever heard. I thought the type of crying she did 8 weeks ago was loud and high pitched…that shit was cute and soothing comparatively. This new cry reminds me of piglets getting clipped, a high pitched wail that makes it sound like my wife and I are trying to slowly murder her. HOW DARE YOU PEOPLE TRY TO HOLD ME AND COMFORT ME! Anyways, back to Milwaukee…

We left Friday late morning. I had to run in to work for a few hours and it was some sort of divine happenstance that I got home RIGHT when Elizabeth finished eating. I had loaded the car the night before so I loaded the ladies in and we were on our way. SHE WAS SOOOO GOOD! My god. My wife had to stop to pee more times that Elizabeth fussed. If she woke up we just played Old Crow Medicine Show’s Wagon Wheel or Coheed and Cambria’s Wake Up and we would sing along. Da Butt would almost immediately pass out. She might be the only person in human history to be soothed by my wife and I singing (it is actually similar to Elizabeth’s new cry in my opinion). She made the full 3.5 hour trip to the hotel with no problems. She woke up and started to fuss right as we took the exit for our hotel. Got to the room, she ate, she pooped, she napped, and then she was ready to rock again.

We meet some friends at a restaurant downtown (sidenote: If you are in Milwaukee, Fat-dad for sure suggests going to Stacked. Awesome burgers and amazing beer list!). I avoid using names of friends or family in this blog unless I have their permission so let’s call these friends Jack and Diane. Diane cried when she saw Elizabeth. Jack and I grabbed some beers and the wives caught up too. Da Butt ate there in the restaurant and again by divine happenstance, as soon as she was done our food came out. She sat like a good little Ewok in her carseat while all four of us got to eat together. We ended up trekking down to the Milwaukee Ale House and got a few rounds of drinks. There was a group of frat boys that Elizabeth couldn’t keep her eyes off of. My Fat-dad senses were going off at this point, until I noticed that all of these frat boys were waving at her and making goofy faces. It was actually pretty damn funny.

After a few rounds, it was decided that the butt needed to have her picture taken with Milwaukee’s most famous landmark…The Bronze Fonz! We walked the 5 or so blocks and got a stranger to take our picture with the beloved 50’s greaser. We walked back to the car and made our way back to the hotel. It was on the way home that Elizabeth had apparently had enough of being good. Nothing would comfort this kid! No song would soothe her. No pacifier would pacify her. Nothing. She got herself so worked up that she started with the big old crocodile tears. As soon as my wife got her in to our room she spit up. A lot. Like exorcist style. We got her cleaned up, got her changed and fed, and our friends came up to the room and we stayed up and chatted more while Diane rocked Elizabeth to sleep. We called it a night around 130am.

The next morning, Elizabeth was more her normal self. We ate, we napped, we basically chilled until my wife’s parents came up to the room. We got geared up to go to the game, we moved the carseat, and we made our way to the parking lot at Miller Park for the tailgating. Grandpa and Fat-dad did some grilling and smoked a few cigars while Elizabeth ate yet again. She was so well behaved yet again. She sat nicely in her carrier and slept even though it was hotter than Satan’s butthole outside. We made our way in to the park, but Fat-dad’s belt buckle set off the metal detector. Not saying that I would, nor would I condone anyone else attempting it, but it is really amazing what a person could get away with if they have a baby in their arms. The security person did a very half-assed tickle search and waved me through before Da Butt woke up.

Now, I did forget to say that this was Star Wars Night at Miller Park. My father in law goes in on season tickets with a few guys from his work and when he realized that he had the tickets for that weekend, he of course assumed that my nerdy ass was going to want to go. He went so far as to get an extra ticket up in the nose bleed seats so that I could get the limited edition Stormin’ Gorman Stormtrooper bobblehead! The game is obviously the same, but there are Star Wars/Brewer’s themed items everywhere. They do Star Wars names for the players and members of the 501^st Legion Star Wars Costume Club were out in full…force (see what I did there?). I don’t know what amount of money it would require for me to dress up like Chewbacca in 92 degree weather…but it would have to be a lot. I managed to get Elizabeth’s picture taken with Chewbacca himself, and with a few assorted Imperial troopers. Needless to say…I was very excited.

Somewhere in the 2^nd or 3^rd inning, Elizabeth and my wife got very hot and it was going to get close to feeding time anyways, so the two of them and my mother-in-law decided to make their way up to the air conditioned club box. That left my father-in-law and I to sit and enjoy the game by ourselves, which was absolutely fine by both of us. At one point though there was a wild foul ball that went streaking right by my father-in-law’s head and hit the woman behind him! Couldn’t help but think about what I would have done if Elizabeth had still been sitting so close to us then! A few innings later there was yet another wild foul ball that came down right behind us and was caught by a Scout Trooper and promptly given to one of the young boys that was sitting in front of us. That was almost twice that my little Ewok was popped in the face with a foul ball!

Somewhere in the 7^th inning, the girls came back to the seats and Elizabeth was just out like a freaking light. Braun hit a homerun and the stadium went nuts. Fireworks were going off and people were cheering and hooting. She slept right through it. Couldn’t believe it. Brewers beat the Mets and we made our way out to the parking lot where my father-in-law and I promptly lit up cigars and cracked open a few PBRs while we waited for the lot to clear out. Elizabeth fed in the truck with my wife and eventually ended up passing out right on the tailgate.

We left the park, and went out to dinner where she finally woke up. Changed her diaper in the men’s room and ended up with a conundrum…I also had to pee. I left her on the changing table, did my business, and then realized the strap on the table was broken so I couldn’t strap her in. She isn’t rolling around yet, but I just knew if I went to wash my hands that this would be the exact moment that she decided to roll over and off of the table. A dude came in and saw my situation and said, “Yeah…I remember that. I will watch her for you while you wash your hands.”. Thank God! We ate dinner right as a huge group of people were seated. All 4 of us got to eat in peace though because Elizabeth was simply enthralled by the people sitting next to us. She wouldn’t take her eyes off them. Don’t know what was so entertaining, but I am glad she was entertained while we ate at least.

Sunday morning, we made our way home. I had to tell you about her sleeping through the homerun because on the way home she was dead asleep, but I made the critical mistake of coughing. Not even a deep hack, a light little cough. Almost a throat clear more than a cough. And she woke up screaming. WTF?! She slept through 40,000 people yelling and fireworks, but Dad’s cough really ruined her Zen-like calm. Still, all things said and done, she was so good the whole trip. I had to wonder if while my wife and I were talking about having a child, my sperm started talking and were like, “The Fat Guy isn’t sure he wants kids right now, I think we should send Elizabeth first. She is the most well behaved and will trick him in to having more! Then we can send all of the shitheads after her!”. That has to be it…

Anyways, that was Da Butt’s adventure in Milwaukee. If you would like to see some more pictures or just join in the more everyday fun, you can like Fatterhood on Facebook at www.facebook.com/fatterhood  Cheers!

What an adorable little lesbian

Howdy all,

                I know that this is supposed to be a humorous blog, but sometimes something so terrible happens that I have to stop and say my piece sans the dick jokes. After the recent tragedy in Orlando where 50 people were shot and killed and another 50+ were wounded I just can’t help but think of “What if Elizabeth ended up being a lesbian”? I have been pondering this question all day and I guess I will have to walk you through my thought process.

                We spent the whole weekend in Milwaukee to see some friends and go to a Brewer’s game (There will be a whole separate post on those events later). On Saturday, we dressed The Ewok up in a little Brewer’s onesie and she looked god damn adorable! But…it was actually a “boy’s” outfit. It was all white, had stitching like a baseball and said Milwaukee Brewers. The whole game, my wife and I had people asking “How old is he?”. We decided to act cool and not correct anyone since it’s an honest mistake. But I was really bummed out with how strong gender stereotypes are in America. Just because Da Butt isn’t in pink with a frilly dress, doesn’t mean she is a boy. It is freaking ridiculous. I have mentioned before that I was not raised with strong male gender definitions. I had a single mom, so she did her best to fill both roles. She attempted to get me into sports, but I really didn’t care for it. I ended up doing the play in high school where I caught sooooooo much shit from the guys in my school. “Only girls do the play fag!” Which may be true, the ratio was firmly more females than males, but that meant I was hanging out with the ladies all day while those dudes were rolling on the ground in a giant man-pile and then showering together. So…

                My own mother had asked me if I was gay at one point. It had been a while since I had a girlfriend. We were sitting on the couch and out of nowhere she asked if I was gay. She was quick to say that it was fine if I was, but she was just wondering. I explained that no, I wasn’t gay and that I just hadn’t had any girls that interested me for a while. It was just bizarre at the time, but I really do believe that it would not have made a single difference in the way she treated or loved me, but she was genuinely interested in my life. She had a few gay friends when I was younger, so she was obviously cool with it and I guess I just never really thought about it until I got older and I had several friends that came out. Now, I have several gay, lesbian, transgender, bisexual friends. I pick on them about being gay like I pick on my friend for being ginger. It is an easy attribute to run with, but it doesn’t actually change my opinion on them. They pick on me for being fat and we go back and forth. One could say we have a gay old time…but everyone else would roll their eyes at that terrible pun.

                So what would happen if Elizabeth ended up being a lesbian? Nothing would change other than I would be even more protective! The first time someone tried making fun of her or making her feel bad about herself, I would lose my shit. I would be a reverse hate crime. To me, Ewok being a lesbian would actually be the best case scenario. In this scenario she would of course end up dating my and my wife’s good friends’ daughter and they would get married, end up adopting a wonderful child (or I.F. either way), I would end up being a grandpa, and my friend and I would be related through marriage and have a legit reason to hang out all of the time. Bonus, she wouldn’t get pregnant in high school. Not to say that that is the worst thing to ever happen to a person, I have several friends that had kids in high school and they say it is the best thing that ever happened to them. But let’s be fair…it wasn’t exactly Plan A either. How awesome would that be? Would I love her less? Hell no. Would anything really change in how I feel about my daughter? Again… hell no. The idea that someone would disown their child just because they love someone of the same gender, is just crazy to me.

                What is even crazier is that some asshat, that doesn’t like what two consenting adults do with their genitals in the privacy of their own home, shoots 100 people. What the ever loving hell?! I will be perfectly honest, I don’t care for gay sex either. But I have found a great way to deal with that…I don’t do it! I don’t worry about what consenting adults do with their genitals! There are soooo many great reasons to hate somebody, but what they do with their genitals in their own home, isn’t one of them. I couldn’t even imagine being the parent of one of the victims and having to hear that my child was shot while they were out dancing with their partner for the soul reason that they are gay…it sickens me with just the thought of being in those shoes.

                I had posted it on the Facebook page, but please join me in raising a glass to the victims of this tragedy and for the family of the victims. If you are the parent of a LGBT child and are reading this, keep your chin up and keep on loving your child. If you are someone that has shunned a loved one for finding love in “the wrong place”, then I hope you realize that you are on the wrong side of history, human decency, and common sense. Prost…

Come with me and you'll be in a world of pure inebriation...

Howdy all,

I have had the majority of the written since last weekend, but last Saturday was my birthday and in true Fat-Dad fashion, I ended up being a total bag of turds on Sunday. Anyways...I have always had a very overactive imagination. Seriously, it is ridiculous. I get lost in my own little fantasy land all of the time. I have 3 prime examples to share with the group. But one requires a quick back-story. I am sure that several of you might have noticed that I haven't really ever said where I work. Due to the nature of my blog and my employer's rather strict social media guidelines, I can't use their real name. So let's just say that I am a phlebotomist for a blood collection agency called The Crimson Plus-sign...

When I first started at The Crimson Plus-Sign, I was extremely excited. I still am excited most days to go to work believe it or not. I spend too much time there now that Elizabeth is around, but that is for another post. Anyways...I have also always considered myself a very logical thinker, very interested in science, etc. But when I started at The Crimson Plus-Sign all of my adult, science based, logical thinking went out the window. Even though I didn't actually believe that it would happen, a deep part of me really hoped that I would show up to orientation and I would be let in on a secret. That vampires are real and that they use minions to collect their blood. I was highly upset when this wasn't the case. *Sidenote: Seriously, go give blood. Donated blood has effected my and Elizabeth's lives already, but again, that is for another post.

I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I caught my mother putting presents under the tree when I was about 6 years old. But again, a part of me came up with this fantasy that he was actually real. My idea was that 1 dude couldn't make enough presents for the whole world forever, so once your kids got to a certain age, you had to tell them they he wasn't real. I thought maybe...just maybe, the day after Elizabeth was born that I was going to get a letter in the mail explaining the whole thing like a freaking letter from Hogwarts or something. I envision it being delivered by a flying penguin (I know there aren't penguins at the North Pole but penguins don't fly either! So shut up! This is my fantasy!) and it would be on North Pole stationary with "From the Desk of Santa Claus" on it. And when you open it, snowflakes would come out like confetti. Here I am, letter-less yet again.

Lastly, during my wife's labor I couldn't help but daydream about what it would be like if I had to give birth. I went through several different scenarios (none of them are pleasant and I would suggest that you try to block out any mental pictures that might arise). Like, what if I had the required plumbing? What if I could give birth with the current plumbing? Would I be able to handle the pain? I was witnessing the miracle of life right before me and all I could think about was "Man...if I had to push that through my ding-dong I am pretty sure I would pass out!". Dear Lord.

This overactive imagination can be a blessing and a curse. It is fun to visit these ideas, but I can easily be distracted. I do have new fantasies of Elizabeth and I watching Star Wars (she loves it by the way), going to concerts when she gets older, her meeting a dude that I really like too, grandkids, the works. I hope at least some of those become realities. And I want Santa to be real...  Cheers!

Do you wanna make us waffles?

Hello again,

     Earlier this week my wife, Elizabeth and I went to Target for a basic stock up trip. I freaking love Target. Don't really know why, but I do. My wife and I spend an insane amount of money there (bit with our Red Card we would be idiots not to!). One of my favorite things to do is embarass my wife in public, I will do it any where, but since we spend so much time at Target it usually ends up happening there.
*Quick side story- I was once asked to leave a Victoria's Secret store because I was following my wife around with a mannequin torso asking how the outfit looked on me. When asked to "stop harassing the mannequin" my brilliant reply was "If she didn't want it then she shouldn't dress like that". Anyone who says 5hat about real women when they are assaulted should be punched in the face, but this was a mannequin torso so I don't think she was too offended.*
    Anyways, this last trip Elizabeth got really fussy in the cart so I picked her up and carried her around the store. My wife went about her normal shopping while the Ewok and I went on an adventure. We found a Frozen waffle maker! This thing was dope as hell! It made different waffle pieces of Olaf that you put together to build your own snowman! With Elizabeth in one hand I grabbed the box and ran to find my wife. When we found her I busted in to a rendition of "Do you want to make us waffles" set to the tune of "Do You Want to Build a Snowman".

Do you want to make us waffles?
We can have them any time.
I can buy the syrup,
OH when will we dine?

My wife played right in to my trap and simply replied "No." Which lead to me sinking my shoulders and singing,
Okay, fine...

     I would think it is safe to say that my wife is kind of excited to share the embarrassment with Elizabeth when she gets older. Elizabeth seemed quite indifferent to my antics as she just burped and fared the whole time. I know...she is totally my kid. My poor wife has been putting up with this crap for 12 years now! If you are ever in a Midwest Target, strolling through housewares and you find home decor that is arranged in to an offensive word or phrase then more than likely you have stumbled across The Fat Dad's handywork. Thank god she still puts up with it and hopefully Elizabeth will be as good of a sport about it. Cheers!

More than words...

I have been a crabby a-hole all day, for apparently ZERO reason. I have been snapping at my wife for little shit all day and just a while ago I lost it over laundry. I don't even remember what the hell it was any more, that's how important it must have been. Anyways I decide that I am going to go to the bar and have a few, not really angry any more by this point, I didn't slam the door and yell or anything but I also didn't say I was leaving. I know...I know, I am an asshole. But I think I have made that point abundantly clear over the last few posts. Anyways, I get in the car and Cee Lo Green's "Forget You" comes on the radio. I am thinking to myself, "Yeah, forget her man" and on and on. By the end of the song I got my original pissed off attitude back. But then..."More Than Words" by Extreme comes on. Wtf?! Thanks Clear Chanel Radio for messing with a dude's pissy streak. Needless to say, I made it to a gas station and bought a sixer or Mickey's grenades and will be heading home now to drink in the loving warmth of my family. But if "Love Hurts" starts playing when I start the car then I shan't be held responsible for my actions. Cheers.