Is Your Son The Anti-Christ

I went to see The Omen with Deppen the other night.

It was very educational.

Here are 6 (Get it --- 6?) signs that your child may be the son of devil:

1. He never smiles, unless someone is dying.


2. His classmates are afraid of him.


3. The animals go crazy when he visits the zoo.


4. He never gets sick.


5. He refuses to go into a church. When you force the issue, he goes into convulsions.


6. When his mother is about to fall to her death, he doesn't help or get upset.

It's best if you ignore these signs until it's too late.

Seriously, the movie was laughable. While Deppen was in the fetal position rocking back and forth, I was struggling to regain my composure.

Happy Fun Dad

I went swimming at the public pool the other day with my kids.

Both my son and daughter had pieces of dead skin hanging on the soles of their feet. It's early in the summer, so the skin on their feet isn't tough enough for the rough concrete pool bottom.

My son showed me the bottom of his big toe. He asked me to tear off the small piece skin. Without questioning, I grabbed it with my fingers and yanked. The water-soaked skin tore easily, and he was happy.

My daughter was suffering from the same problem. She saw the quick and easy solution I had provided for her brother, and asked if I could do the same for her. "Sure" I said. I grabbed the skin and yanked. Unfortunately it didn't yield the same result. With a stunned look on her face, she gasped and immediately started crying.

The crying didn't surprise me. She is "injured" by the most benign events: Stepping on a tall blade of grass. Getting poked in the arm with a pencil eraser. Falling down a flight of stairs. This is a trait she inherited from her mother. "Come on. You're fine. Suck it up and walk it off." I said, as I tried not to loose my temper in front of a few dozen judgmental mothers. "I CAN'T WALK! IT HURTS TOO MUCH!" she belted ... even though I was sitting right next to her. "Then go for a swim or something. Just stop crying." I said. "I CAN'T SWIM! I'LL GET BLOOD IN THE POOL!" "There isn't any..." and that's when I notice the pool of blood beneath her toe.

"OK, maybe we should go to the office for a Band-Aid."

Several dozen judgemental mothers watched as I walked and my daughter limped to the office.

The lifeguard in the office was unfazed. I guess she deals with lots of bloody toes.

She cleaned and bandaged my daughter's toe. My daughter was still inconsolable. The lifeguard then turned her attention to me, and prepared to read the standard script.

lifeguard:	“I need to fill out an accident report. So I need you to answer a few questions.”
me:	“OK”
(head):	“Something bad is about to happen. She's not blocking my exit route, so I'm OK for now.”
lifeguard:	“Where did this happen?”
me:	“Over by the side of the pool.”
lifeguard:	“What happened? Did she step on some broken glass?”
me:	“Well...no. She...uh... She asked me too...uh...”
daughter:	“He ripped the skin off of my toe.”
lifeguard:	“Excuse me?”
(head):	“fuck.”
me:	“You see, she had some dead skin on her toe and she asked me to pull it off.”
daughter:	“And he yanked really hard and it hurt a lot and then it started bleeding.”
(head):	“OMG STFU!”
me:	“...She asked me to do it.”
There was an awkward moment that seemed to last an eternity. I'm sure she was contemplating whether or not she should call Child Services. We all exchanged glances.
(head):	“These aren't the droids you're looking for. These aren't the droids you're looking for.”
lifeguard:	“...I'll write down here that she stubbed her toe.”

Another near miss.

The Rockette

I recently had a parent-teacher conference with my oldest son's teacher. This is a great opportunity for me because my son doesn't talk much about what happens at school, and I'm always hungry for information.

teacher:	“Your son is going to love next year. We get to do some very interesting things.”
me:	“Oh really?”
teacher:	“Yes! The trip to New York is very popular with the students.”
me:	“When I was a kid, our family took a tour of Radio City Music Hall. Have you ever taken that tour?”
teacher:	“I know Radio City very well. I used to be a Rockette.”
(head):	“Good GOD! I thought you were one operation shy of being a woman. I think I just threw up a bit in my mouth.”
me:	“Really!?”
teacher:	“Yes, many people don't know this about me.”
(head):	“I wonder why. Maybe it's because it can't possibly to true?”
teacher:	“It was a long time ago. I was just out of high school.”
(head):	“An all boys high school?”
me:	“Interesting. I've never met a Rockette before.”
(head):	“But I have met a lying transsexual.”
teacher:	“We're getting off track. Your son is a delight to have in class.”
(head):	“Start spreading the news...”
me:	“So he's speaks up in class?”
(head):	“I'm leaving today...”
teacher:	“Oh yes. He very engaged in our discussions.”
(head):	“If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere”
me:	“That's good to hear.”
(head):	“... up ... to ... you - New York, New York!”

Later that day, my wife asked my about he conference. She's "hungry for information" too, but not hungry enough to attend the conference (I know -- couch).

Sherry:	“So, how did it go?”
me:	“She's was a Rockette.”
Sherry:	“Shut Up.”
me:	“In New York City.”
Sherry:	“Duh! Isn't she a he?”
me:	“I guess not. Maybe Radio City has spotty background checking.”
Sherry:	“OK, what else.”
me:	“What do you mean?”
Sherry:	“You talked to her for a half an hour and you have nothing else to tell me?”
me:	“What was I supposed to do? She said she was once a Rockette. I can't remember anything after that.”
Sherry:	“You're an idiot. I'm going next year.”
me:	“Ask her about Radio City Music Hall.”

The Favorite Parent

My wife and I took our old son to a school function. We were sitting with our son and some of his friends when my wife said to him:

"How's that rash? Are you still putting the cream on it?"

Wow! She is officially a typical mother.

It doesn't matter how emotionally detached I am, I'm a shoo-in for the favorite parent position.

The Da Vinci Code

Executive Summary: I didn't like it.

Note: For the six or seven people who haven't yet read this book, this post may spoil it for you.

I just finished reading The Da Vinci Code. Usually I like verisimilar¹ books, as long as I can easily distinguish the facts from the fiction. My lack of knowledge of religious history made this difficult for me. I eventually gave up. Once I assumed it was all fiction, the book was much easier to read.

I didn't care for the characters. OK, that's not true. I did care about Sophie. Probably because whenever I was imagining Sophie, I was really thinking of Audrey Tautou...hubba hubba. She can seek my Holy Grail anytime.

I feel like Dan Brown overly manipulates the reader. A good plot doesn't need repeated use of cliff-hangers to keep the reader engaged. Every chapter in his book ends with a cliff-hanger. I found myself rolling my eyes as I read the last three sentences of a chapter.

Near the end of the book I wasn't feeling excitement. I really wanted the story to end. Why did I keep reading? I wanted to be able to answer "yes" to the picnic/party conversation starter: "Did you read The Da Vinci Code?"

The upside is I've saved myself from spending $7.50 and two hours of my time by not going to see the movie.

I know that I'm not in a position to say this...but I'll say it anyway. I don't see why the Catholic church and Opus Dei are upset. Dan Brown exonerates both groups (page 428, 2nd paragraph) by saying that the villains were acting as individuals and that neither organization would condone such activities. I wouldn't be surprised if the protesters at the movie premiere were hired by the Sony Corporation.

¹Sherry here's your spoon-fed definition:

veri-sim-i-lar
adjective
Etymology: Latin verisimilis
1 : having the appearance of truth : PROBABLE
2 : depicting realism (as in art or literature)
- veri-sim-i-lar-ly adverb