disciple, husband, father, college minister
While eating breakfast this morning, Dana said, “Your bottom is saggy, Daddy.”
Bewildered, I think I said something on the order of, “Huh?”
At which point Dana began chanting, “You can’t handle the truth!”
Over and over.
I didn’t think I’d have to put up with this sort of mockery until her adolescence. I certainly didn’t expect it from a two year old.
I need to tell my ego to buckle its seatbelt — it’s going to be a rocky ride from here on out.
Recently we were all sitting down to dinner when Dana farted.
Mom: “Dana, what do you say?”
Dana: “Excuse you, Daddy.”
People were, in my estimation, entirely too tickled by that remark. 🙂
Me: “Dana, what’s your favorite thing to put in oatmeal?”
Dana: “Raisins.”
Me: “What’s your second-favorite thing?”
Dana: “Spoons.”
I’m a little under the weather today (I have this really painful cough that kept me up most of the night) and Dana noticed that I was rubbing my eyes at lunch. The following dialog ensued:
Dana: “Watchoo doing?”
Daddy: “Daddy’s sick and tired, and he’s trying to feel better.”
Dana: “You wanna feel much better?”
Daddy: “Yes, Daddy would really like to feel much better.”
Dana: “You want some diaper cream?”
Bless her heart.
In response to those who have asked, today is indeed my birthday. My 32nd birthday, to be precise. Thank you for all the warm wishes.
If you happen to be a Stanford student, I would appreciate it if you would translate your warm wishes into a visit to our Chi Alpha meeting tonight. 🙂
If you’re not a Stanford student, a visit to a nearby church this Sunday would warm my heart as well.
So I was pooping the other day and Dana came and started talking to me through the bathroom door. She asked to come in and I explained that Daddy needed his privacy. So she sat down outside the bathroom door and tried to peek through the gap beneath it.
When I flushed the toilet Dana began cheering and clapping.
“Daddy went in the big girl potty! Good job, Daddy”
Oddly enough, it made me feel proud of myself.
The response to my April Wisdom post was every bit as wonderful as I had hoped.
Only one person commented on the blog, but we got several more “live” communications. My personal favorite: a voicemail message that said, among other things, “I thought we had a deal.”
Anyway, the anwers are:
Glen bald — TRUE
Paula pregant — TRUE
House purchased — HAH
Two of the above statements are true. One is not. Discuss.
Tonight we fed Dana fish sticks for the first time. The following is as close to a verbatim transcription as I can muster:
Me: “Dana, do you like those?”
Dana: “Yes.”
Me: “Those are fish sticks.”
Dana: “Chicken nuggets.”
Me: “No, they’re fish sticks.”
Dana: “Chicken.”
Me: “Fish sticks.”
Dana: “Chicken nuggets.”
Me: “Dana, those are fish sticks.”
Dana, greatly vexed, shook her fish stick at me and said, “This goes cluck!”
That just charmed my socks off.
You now have a chance to mess with Glen’s head. That’s right–you get to pick my next hairstyle.
Why? I have a dilemma: I am balding yet not bald. I don’t know what to do.
Almost anything (emphasis on almost) will be considered.
Assuming there’s no evidence of vote fraud (always a peril on the internet), I commit to giving the winning hairstyle a sincere try.
So what are you waiting for? Mess with my head!