To my soulmate, on her birthday

The lucky ones among us get to meet people on this journey through life that leaves a lasting impression.  Like a great tattoo.  They inspire and change you.  People who walk in and accepts you for who you are, with all your flaws, warts, shenanigans, bad habits and everything else that makes you human.  The kind of person who makes you want to be better at being you.

And if you’re really, really, really fortunate, you get to marry that person.

My love, it’s been 23 years since we’ve met and look how far we’ve come on this journey of forever together.  Your birthday is just another simple reminder of how blessed we are for having you in our lives. Continue reading

I’m the love child of Groot and the Cookie Monster

I’m not kidding.  This is serious stuff.  I’m busy checking my family tree that seemed to be uprooted by the latest splurge of hurricanes ruining countries globally…

I’ve just arrived back from Argentina with a sinus infection so severe, I had to consider my last will and testament based on the lack of sympathy I received from my kids.  Based on their sensitive reaction to my condition they wouldn’t get anything from the minimal stuff I have to give them.  Wife was a bit more concerned, and only because I kept her up at night due to my consistent coughing from my annoying nazal drip. (Form a line ladies…)

Continue reading

He’s drinking ‘big man’ coffee now.

Dude always loved coffee.  Probably since birth.  Maybe even before that.  And the Internet was much smaller back then, so we didn’t have a million opinions on how to do parenting properly.   So we fed him coffee.  And decaf is only consumed by the spawn of Satan, so we gave him the real thing. *insert gasps of a thousand moms

Relax.  He’s fine.  Sort of.  He has a weird twitch every time someone says ‘coffee’ or when he sees a Starbucks. Even though I suspect the Starbucks-twitch has nothing to do with the fact that they serve coffee but more with the fact that girls hang around the place like antelope around a pool of water during the dry season. Continue reading

Dude can be a Bond villain

I’ve mentioned that Dude loves drama.  And not in the way the Kardashians or any one of the other Housewive-shitshows like drama.  He likes to act.  In a play.  On a stage.

Their high school puts on a play every year and Dude has been lucky enough to get a role every year since he joined.  It’s four years now.  What can I say?  The apple falls very far from the tree.  Like miiiiiiiiles…

It all good, except for the little known fact that he has been cast as the villain in the last three plays he was in.  Portraying revolting creatures, crafted from the foul scraps left over when they drained the cesspool of humanity.  Kids who are degenerates of society. Continue reading

My love, your car hates me.

I’m 6’4″.  That’s tall.  In any country.  I’m proud of my height, I’ve worked damn hard to get this tall.  It took countless awkward moments throughout puberty and then some. My length allows me to be heavier than most people simply because the weight has a wider distance of distribution.   Or at least that’s what I like to believe.  It enables me to do things that normal people can’t.  Like getting the sales items that’s normally hidden on the top shelf of a grocery store.  You didn’t know?  I’m able to spot my friends from a mile in a crowd.  And then avoid them.  It allows me to have a perfect, unhindered view at any concert, whilst people behind me normally start swearing as soon as I stand up.

My length does make certain things a little more problematic.  Like taking a bath or buying a standard pair of jeans or walking around construction sites or being stuck in an economy seat for eleven hours with the rest of the cattle.  My biggest frustration for being tall is having to drive a normal sized car.  Which is why I don’t.  And which is why Wife does. Continue reading

Saying “YES” is easier

Parents have a crappy job.  It starts with wiping of said substance from the soft posterior of the little angels we bring home from the hospital and then it goes downhill from there.  Fast.  I’m not referring to the countless moments of joy and regret kids provide parents with on a daily basis.  I’m specifically referencing the task of forming, sculpting and trying to raise responsible adults who will do more than simply wipe their own butts one day.

I’m talking about discipline.  That’s the tough job.  The part of parenting I hate.  The having to say “No” part.  The part where you create boundaries and then struggle for the rest of eternity to make them stay within those boundaries.  And for every parent it’s different.  Some of us have narrow boundaries, whilst others have boundaries as wide as the universe itself.  There’s no right or wrong.  To make matters even more complicated, it’s also our job to decide when we need to make the circle bigger, to expand the boundaries, even if it’s just a little at a time.  And we need to make them bigger because the aim is to reach the point where you can demolish all the boundaries and simply let them fly.  Or at least fall out of the nest without breaking their neck in the process. Continue reading

Happy Father’s Day

Being a father is tough.  Just like being a mother but without the whole giving birth and having kids suck on your tits thing.  It’s the most difficult job in the world, they say.  It’s the most rewarding job in the world, they say.

What “they” don’t say, is that you’ll make mistakes.  Mistakes that will probably result in your kids having to book a therapy session or two.  (Besides, it’s not my fault they walked in when I was posing with the Borat bathing suit. Moving on…)   What “they” also don’t tell you is how much you’ll end up loving the fruits of your loins.  How much you are prepared to sacrifice for the little angels who can suck your wallet dry in one trip to the mall.  How much pride and joy they can make you feel, and how nothing else on this blue ball makes any sense without them in your life. Continue reading

How a fidget spinner saved my life.

I’m a self-diagnosed sufferer of ADHD and it is Google verified and everything.  I started believing my condition after the eighth site confirmed it to be true.  And I’m not mocking the condition because this is serious shit.

I am the “hey, look there’s a squirrel” guy.  A man who loses interest in any conversation at the drop of a hat.  And this is in a literal sense.  If you drop your hat whilst speaking to me, I might not be there when you stand up again.  And this is in a figurative sense.  My parents didn’t raise a buffoon.  My body will still be standing in front of you but my mind will probably be hovering over the plot of the new Deadpool movie.

*Cue the fidget spinner Continue reading

The piling system

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Actual footage of Dude’s room

Teenagers are wonderfully skilled at throwing clothes on the floor.  If they decide to introduce “the ability to generate piles of clothing” as an Olympic event, all the participants would be between the ages of 13 and 19.  Like gymnastics.  Even though modern society has invented wonderful ways to keep clothes need and tidy.  Useless inventions like coat hangers, shelves, cupboards, organizing compartments and the shirt folders made famous by Sheldon.  Not to mention the whole practice of ironing. Continue reading

Dude is 17!!

I try to acknowledge the birth of my kids with an annual post because without them there wouldn’t be a blog.  I also would have had less grey hair.  And a lot more money.  No-one warned me about the amount of money I would need to spend on raising kids.  It’s the single biggest reason why people in their forties don’t own a sportscar.  Well that and the limited boot space.

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But can you believe it, Dude turns 17 today!

He’s managed to retain all of his amazing qualities and grew of few more.  Now he is also handsome, funny, considerate and tall.  Just like me.  Except for being considerate because I’m a selfish bastard. Continue reading