Planet Dracula

Julianna (she’s 10): Daddy, have people been to other galaxies?

Me: No.

J: Is that because it is too far?

Me: Yes, Honey. It would take millions of years for us to get to another galaxy.

J: But, people can’t live that long.

Me: Right.

J: Unless they are vampires! They can live for ever!

Problem solved.

[Attention Hollywood types, especially Mel Brooks. I have copyrighted and trademarked this idea. But, wouldn't that be a great movie?! Call me.]

Ad Nauseam

Julianna, the fifth-grader (she’s 10), and her class are embarking on Ancient Latin and Greek terminology. photo, therm, et cetera, etc. (You see what I did there…)

Julianna is perplexed by the phrase ad nauseam.

J: Daddy, what is “ad naudsumum…” Do I have to get sick? I have to write a sentence with it.

Me: ad nauseam is, like, when your teacher keeps teaching and teaching and teaching until you feel sick! You don’t actually get sick, but you feel like you might.

J: Oh!

Julianna lights up and begins to write something. But, she is covering up with her left hand so that I can’t see. Obviously, she is writing about me because I talk, talk, talk.

Then, Isabella (she’s 7) looks at me, gets a devilish look, and whispers to Julianna.

Girls: Teeheeheehee.

Isabella: Daddy, Julianna finished her assignment!

(She can barely contain herself.)

Julianna (laughing through it all): “My dad farts on and on and on ad nauseam.”

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

(breath)

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!

Me: Ok, Honey. Fart. Ha.

Girls: Hahaha, he said “Fart!” Hahahahaha!

Me: Sweetie, because this is actual homework for your teacher(!), can you please change the word “farts” to something else, like “sings.”

J: But “farts” is funnier.

Me: Yes, I know it is, I know. But, please. For your teacher.

Iz: Because you can’t sing either!! Hahaha!

Me: Thank you.

Iz: Also, you’re fat.

[Editor's note: To be fair, if I had this homework assignment when I was 10, my 5th grade teacher Mrs. Ramsay would right now be staring down the barrel of an essay on farts. But, I've raised a slightly-better class of child. Haven't I?]

Here’s the evidence. Note the erasure marks around the “sanitized” version…

Please, don't throw up.

Please, don’t throw up.

Power Outage

Just as the various members of the family stagger out of bed this morning around 8am, we hear a popping noise outside. No one thinks much of it (in Hollywood, the things we hear outside…)

Then…

Julianna (she’s 10): Dad, the lights aren’t working and the TV shut off.

Me: Who said you could put the TV on? What do you mean it shut off?

J: Off.

Me: I guess we blew a circuit.

Isabella (she’s 7): Daddy, the lights in the bathroom won’t come on.

Me: Ok, let me check.

I put my shoes on to go check the circuit panel outside (in LA they are outside in the backyard.)

Girls: Can I have a waffle?
Me: Nope.
Girls: Can I have an egg?
Me: Nope. Trying to check on things.
Girls: Can we watch Netflix?
Me: Nope. Router down.
Girls: Can we have some cereal?
Me: Nope, don’t want to open the fridge.
Girls: Can we go the bathroom?
Me: Yes, thankfully.
Girls: Can we call grandma?
Me: Nope. Phone dead.
Girls: Will we starve?
Me: Nope. Well, probably not.

Girls: What can we do? We are soooo bored!
Me: Girls, it’s been 4 minutes! Read a book! Eat an apple! Enjoy the morning! You know, there was a time when people didn’t have…

–click–

Girls: Yay! The lights just came back on!

Daddy’s lecture on the need for self-sufficiency was thwarted by the very power he was railing against.

After only 4 minutes, I was kind of relieved knowing that I was mere hours away from making the choice over which child I’d eat first.

The Lion King

As we head into Thanksgiving week where the girls will be home all day, I begin wondering:

If I were a Lion and they were my cubs, at what point do I step in to stop them from killing each other? Sometimes, the child’s-play gets too rough for one of them. So, Mommy or I have to referee. Lions don’t do this.

And, why do they have to keep fighting on My bed, watching My TV?

Brush your fangs and go to bed! We’ll have Gazelle in the morning! Not good enough for you? Turn off the TV. And go to den!

ROAR!

Ugly Fish

Just now, the guy on the news shows a clip of the world’s ugliest fish, something from 2 miles below the surface.

Me: That’s one ugly fish!

Julianna (she’s 10): I think it’s beautiful.

Me: Well, I guess you like ugly things.

J: Well, I like you.

You see where this story is going, yes?

Me: And, I’m ugly?

J: Like I said, I like you.

Thank you for playing.

A Family on Lockdown

The girls are off for the week for Thanksgiving break. I stressed to them that they should relax and sleep late on Saturday. Rest your tired bones.

Then they wake up at 6:30am.

Yes, they played with puppy Merlin for a while and talked to Grandma on the phone. But something sinister was afoot.

Isabella (she’s 7) had a tantrum because, what the hell does it matter, she’s 7 and had a tantrum. She was playing piano and Rudolph was being a bitch. What with his nose and all.

Iz: EVERYBODY HATES ME!

Us: Nobody hates you.

Iz: But, you won’t let me play this right.

Us: How are we stopping you?

Iz: Because you are listening!

You see how this is going so far.

Iz: I want to stop this and play on the iPad.

Mommy: No, not until you calm down, brush your teeth, and have some breakfast.

Iz: You HATE me!

At this point, I know you are chuckling. But, when you’re in the middle of it, it is SO not funny.

Mommy: Ok. Nobody gets the iPad.

Daddy: And, no TV or computers or nothing. Read a book.

Iz: But, I have no one to read to! You HATE me.

Mommy whips out the old stand-by:

Mommy: Go to your room!

So, now, I am cowering in the corner of the bathroom reporting this to you. I’m a hostage in my own home. Because a 7-year-old didn’t get enough sleep. Someone call 911 for me.

Wait… at last report, it appears the 7-year-old fell asleep in her bed with her puppy. Call off the SWAT team. I think we’ll survive.

I love Saturday.

I’m Too Sexy for this Shirt

I learned on Thursday that People Magazine had bypassed me once again for the title of the world’s Sexiest Man Alive. I admit that I was a little surprised. Instead, they gave the crown to Chris Hemsworth, of whom I have never heard (which I suppose is only fair since I doubt he’s heard of me. Touché.)

Still, going into the final round of voting, I thought I had a shot. Because a) I have a pulse, and b) I’m a dude. So right out of the starting block, I had already leapfrogged 50% of potential opponents.

From what my sources inside the People editorial room tell me, this is where my candidacy seemed to stall. Primarily because of 3 reasons: 1) Not famous. 2) Not rich. And, 3) you know, Not Sexy.

But, I’ll be back again next year. People, you know where to find me (because I keep leaving messages at the reception desk.)

I’m not a Scientist, but…

I’m not a scientist, but global warming is a hoax.

I’m not an economist, but Trickle Down brings wealth to everyone.

I’m not a crime expert, but Second Amendment.

I’m not an ecologist, but chopping these trees won’t change the environment.

I’m not a doctor, but anyone from Africa needs to be quarantined.

I’m not an evolutionist, but dinosaurs and people foraged together 6,000 years ago.

I’m not illegal, but hablo español. Un poquito.

I’m not gay, but that invites demons.

I’m not a woman, but my uterus is state property. Also, I have a nice ass.

I’m not poor, so fuck ‘em.

I’m not your father. From now on, you are called “Luke.”

— Cordially yours, D. Vader.

Soap

This week the Fun Time goes National TV.

Regina, our good friend works in the casting office at General Hospital. They were shooting some Halloween scenes and needed adorable kids. Regina gave us a call, because, well, you’ve met the girls.

And, because absolutely no one asked to see these shots, I thought I’d offer them up.

So, Julianna’s episode aired on Halloween Day.

Julianna, obviously the most talented one, here on the extreme right.

Julianna, obviously the most talented one, here on the extreme right.

Not to be outdone, Isabella showed up on Nov. 4. She was actually featured! With the line “Trick or Treat!” (I hope I am not violating copyrights by quoting that.)

She's the obviously more talented child on the left, in case you didn't know.

She’s the obviously more talented child on the left, in case you didn’t know.

Oh, and she was having a great Hair day:

Isabella's Hair, Approaching Donna Mills (who is apparently a bad guy.)

Isabella’s Hair, Approaching Donna Mills (who is apparently a bad guy.)

Thanks again to Regina. And, no… Don’t send me your head shots to pass along to her. That’s not how this works.