Random Notes

My sister recommended these blogs: Checking the Electrical Box and Why Is Daddy Crying?. They're good and funny and worth a look.

Checking the Electrical Box:
My 5 year old daughter is a Jr. Gynecologist. She loves her vagina and at her age, what's not to love? It's cooler than her arm and her brother doesn't have one. I've encouraged this burgeoning relationship not because I'm all "Our Bodies Ourselves" but because I'm the Ghost of Vagina Future. I view my vagina like a Gremlin. It's cute and fuzzy but requires a lot of maintenance and must never be fed after midnight. Sadly, when gotten wet it doesn't multiply. I hear some can though.

Why Is Daddy Crying?
My brother lovingly and occasionally refers to his children as "fuck-trophies."

Now, he only does it in front of the right audience, and never in front of the kids--just making sure that's out there so no angry parent-mobs form and go after him. But the first time I heard it, I laughed like hell while jotting it down on a little pad so I could whip the phrase out later as if I'd sat in my thinking chair late one night, sporting my pimped-out smoking jacket, pondering new and hilarious things.

But then later it hit me. My children really should be clad in gold, thrown on a pedestal, forever frozen in some award-winning pose as tribute to the wifey and me getting it on. Why? Because they truly are representative of a time when the wifey and I rocked the house of its foundation.