Here are some random thoughts that popped in my head while I was clorox'ing the potty a second ago:
Random Thought #1
My life has become one long episode of that showLie to Me. I spend all day with this little girl trying to discover the truth. Just now she came to me and wanted a hug. That only happens in commercials when the dad comes home from work in a new Ford or something. What's her angle? Did she break something? Is there a spill on the floor? It turns out that she had gas and just wanted the relief that comes from her stomach pressing up against my chest and thus releasing her noxious chemicals into the atmosphere. She doesn't love me after all.
Random Thought #2
Why do I feel guilty for wrapping all the Dr Seuss books in my shirt. sneaking them out of the living room and hiding them in the bedroom? I read The Cat in the Hat seventeen times today and it's only 11:30AM. When I wasn't reading that, I was reading Fox in Socks. I have nothing to feel guilty about. I've done my duty to society. Before she was born I swore that she wouldn't be one of those kids babysat by the television, but I sure as hell just hit "Play All" on the Sesame Street folder on the DVR. My mistake was reading books to her with some theatrics and dedication. My wife had the right idea. Read it like an obituary and you'll only have to read it once. I'm the one who acted like I was auditioning for Juilliard.
Random Thought #3
I don't know what you're saying, but the parenting book says that I'm supposed to just play along. It was a lot easier when you just cried. I feel like I'm talking to James Brown. It starts off nicely with tayto cheep, tayto cheep. That means potato chip. Then it was war, war, war. That's water. I have no freaking clue what eg ga ie ghal ksje fie means. Then I end up feeling bad because you repeat it verbatim three times and look at me like I'm slow. Then you start crying like you're asking for oxygen and I'm denying it to you out of spite. I'm sorry. I want to communicate with you, but they don't make a Rosetta Stone for Gremlin.
Random Thought #4
I love my daughter. I want to believe that goes without saying. But am I wrong for drawing a parallel between that song in The Wedding Singer and completely polarized emotions that go with parenting? Even the strongest pragmatist has to admit that there was some rosy idea of what it'd be like to have a kid swirling around inside of them. Then you get one and they drive you insane some days. Maybe you'd find a small connection to this song too. Now of course not the part about "I hope you ...choke." But the whole transition from joy to despair...yeah that's kinda normal I guess.
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