Tag: dad blog

PART 1: That Time When I Tried To Go To Disney World For Free By Being On A TV Game Show

The awkwardly worded title is pretty self-explanatory. So settle in, as have I got a story for you!

See, it all started last summer. While scrolling through Facebook one day, I saw a post about a casting call for a new game show, Just Like Mom And Dad (JLMAD), being filmed in Toronto.

 

Curious, I discovered that it was actually a remake of an 80s game show, Just Like Mom.  Basically, the premise was three teams of moms and their kids would answer questions about each other for two rounds, and get points for every correct answer.  The final round then involved a bake-off, where the kids would make some nasty concoction in 60 seconds (ie. brownies made with pickles), which the moms would eat. The moms then had to guess which one their kids made, and received points if they were right. Whichever team got the most total points won. The winning kid would then get to spin a big wheel of prizes, with the grandest prize being………………a trip to Disney Land!

Ahh, Disney. The most magical place on Earth. Or, so I’ve been told, anyway, as I had never been before.  And for real, it wasn’t even on my radar of must-see destinations, until recently. B and J are both now at the point where their peers will go on a Disney vacation, and come back to revel them about its awesomeness. Since monkey see, monkey do, B and J had started making more noise about wanting to go to Disney World. That’s all fine and dandy, except that Disney World ain’t exactly cheap. It would require saving up for a long time, to afford a trip.

So that was my situation on that fateful day of googling JLMAD.  As such, I came up with a brilliant plan:

I would get my family a free trip to Disney World by winning Just Like Mom And Dad!

 

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Mike, you dummy. That’s the dumbest plan ever.  You have a better chance of winning the lottery than of making it onto the show, winning it, then having your kid spinning the wheel and landing on the Disney trip!

However, in my scheming little head, I figured the fastest way to see Mickey Mouse in the flesh would be to win the lottery. The odds of appearing on and winning JLMAD had to be way better than that, right?

Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to applying I go!

B met the age requirement, so he would be my partner in crime. Now, I have never been on TV before.  However, based on years of sitting on my butt watching it, I know that the best contestants on game shows/reality shows have a trait that comes across easily to viewers.  They’re the villian, or the girl next door, or the meathead, or the promiscuous one (What? You don’t watch Jeopardy and wonder who the biggest freak is?) etc. They have something.  As such,  I gambled that JLMAD wanted people with a gimmick, so I came up with one: B’s a funny, wild, little basketball loving jock, and I’m his bemused father.

This was the truth anyway, but I hammered the point home in the application.  The make or break part was the video that JLMAD wanted submitted, of the applicants. Instead of filming us saying something cheesy and unnatural (since B and I are horrible at being unnaturally cheesy), I sent this montage:

 

 

 

After I clicked submit, I started to pack our bags, since we would soon be Florida-bound.

Just kidding.

But the next day, I did get a call from the casting director. She really loved the trick shot video, and asked us to come in for an audition!

We booked an audition for a few weeks later. However, in the meantime, a slight problem came up. For some reason, B developed a fear of flying over water. A plane ride to Orlando from Toronto would probably go over the ocean at some point. Winning a trip to Disney World was a hard no for him now, unless the option was to drive there.  He still wanted to try out, though.

Yes, I realize B and I were clearly counting our eggs before they hatched.

On the day of the audition, driving down, we had no idea what to expect. I prepped B by reminding him to talk eloquently and constantly about sports.   On arrival, the initial process involved B and I discussing the application, with one of the casting people. B, to his credit/discredit, bragged about his athletic prowess, as I kind of looked at him funny.

Next, we went to a small TV studio. It was set up as a play area, full of toys. While there, B and I were filmed answering various questions, which I guess were to be submitted to the TV executives in charge of the show.   Believe it or not, trying to sound cool in front of a group of strangers while being videoed ain’t easy. We were then split up.  B was taken to be interviewed off-camera, as I was filmed trying to complete a fun challenge.  We then switched.

Yo, I fully admit to bombing the interrogation, dude. I didn’t have anything interesting to say about myself, off the top of my dome.  Nonetheless, B sounded confident in his performance afterwards, so I was still optimistic that we would be on top of Splash Mountain soon enough.

About a month later, the call came, from the casting director. The TV execs loved our audition……but they loved a lot more, too. We didn’t get selected to be on the show.

The Disney dream was over.

 

OR WAS IT?!

Head on over to part two, peeps.

Gone Girl

My good friends at The Dad posted this on Instagram the other day:

https://www.instagram.com/p/BiKhphohsla/

Pretty cool, eh? Yep, it’s me catching J in one of her random creative moments a while ago.  The feedback to that post was very positive, towards both her and myself. She’s such a vibrant child, and I’m an A-OK pops,  right?

This is why it sucked so much later that same day when the post came out.  I flushed all that positivity down the toilet, because J went missing, and we couldn’t find her.

It started off innocently enough. Mine and three other families (so picture lots of kids, and lots of adults) were at Great Wolf Lodge for the weekend.  While back at our room, B and J went off on their own, to find some ice for our ice bucket. K and I ended up in another room with the parents, discussing dinner plans. I have no idea how long we were chatting. Eventually, I saw B stroll by, alone. I asked him where J was, and he told me that she was still getting ice.

Weird, but alright.

A few minutes later, J still hadn’t returned. I asked B again where J was. He said that he didn’t know. They had ended up on the third floor, and they couldn’t find ice, so he left her, because she still wanted to look.

Judge me now if you want, but only at this point did warning bells go off in my head.

Our rooms were on the fourth floor! It’s one thing if they were wandering off down the hall, together, but now J was on a whole different floor, alone, in a giant, busy resort. She also doesn’t have the greatest sense of direction.  A million bad scenarios immediately ran through my mind, so I left everyone without a word, to go find her.

This particular Great Wolf Lodge was very spacious. I know that they take great precautions to make sure everyone is safe and sound, while keeping the atmosphere cheerful. At that time, however, all I could think of was how perfect a place like this was, crawling with young children, for a sick creep to try to do something vile. I ran down the stairs, and down one of the hallways, but didn’t see J. I texted K, to see if,  hopefully, she had made her way back. She hadn’t. I think everyone else in our party started to panic then, so they went out to search for her, too.

I then took off  towards another hallway.  I rounded a corner, and, thankfully, I saw her, finally. J was standing in the middle of the hall, holding the ice bucket, crying hysterically.  I ran up to her, and gave her a big hug. She then, through her sobs, said the exact same thing that I had been thinking, as irrational as it seems now:

“I thought that I would never see you again.”

It took everything in me not to burst into tears right there, dude. Shoot, my eyes just got welled up typing that sentence.  Like, what’s more heartbreaking: losing your kid, or finding your kid, and hearing them say that to you?

As we walked hand in hand, back to our room, I again felt a lot of stuff. Relief. Winded, since I was running around like Usain Bolt with a dad bod. Anger, towards B, for ditching J in such a savage way. Anger, towards me, for not just getting the stupid ice myself, and not cluing in sooner to J’s whereabouts. Mostly, though, I felt like a shitty parent (and yes, for good reason, I can hear you saying #guilttrip).

I can only imagine how scared and alone J must have felt in those few minutes, and it’s something no six year old child should experience. That’s all on me, though, for putting her in the situation.  Among all the people and commotion, it was so easy for J to go missing. How messed up is that? I guess this is how Kevin’s mom and dad must have felt in Home Alone.  It’s a parenting fail, pure and simple. You should always go above and beyond to protect your kids.  I did not.

Luckily, the story had a happy ending.  J was pretty upset, but not traumatised or anything like that. She was back to her normal, vibrant self soon after. And yes, dear reader, I promise to do everything in my power to not let something like this happen again. Word to Joni Mitchell, you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone. However temporarily.

Don’t lose your children, people, even for a little bit of time. And always get your own ice!

More J randomness. At Great Wolf Lodge, she wanted me to take a picture of her looking like she was going to jump off of the giant chair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dad’s Night Out – That Time When I Attended A Big Brother Canada Taping

 

 

Confession time!

My family are big Big Brother fans, both the USA and Canadian versions.  While not at the live feed-creeping superfan level, I will admit to having seen every episode of every season of Big Brother Canada, anyway. I had the opportunity to attend a Big Brother Canada Season 6 eviction episode taping recently. If you’re like me, and always wondered what one of these was like, then this is the post for you!

OK, so the first thing to note is that the Big Brother house isn’t actually a house. It’s inside of a large film studio in an industrial part of Toronto. The audience area that you see is in the same studio, but not directly connected to the house. Tickets are free, #butfirst you have to request them ahead of time. There was a group of people outside that I noticed without tickets, who I think managed to get in because of some no-shows.

Upon arrival, seating for the audience is on a first come first served basis. A few seats were reserved, though, for special guests, like Derek’s (one of this season’s houseguests) family.  If you are looking to be on TV, the seats on the left hand side were the place to be.  I figured that it would look kind of weird if I sat in that section alone, so I settled into the middle.

 

Before the actual taping, the audience coordinator, Philip Tetro, warmed up the crowd. He ran through the rules, with the most important being no phones out and no picture-taking allowed at all, or you’d be evicted from the taping. He also cracked jokes, asked people questions, and let us ask questions.

Trying to sneak into the house will also get you tossed out of the building, Uncle Phil throwing out Jazz on Fresh Prince of Bel-Air style.

 

Sidenote: Now, years ago, I went to a David Letterman Show taping, in New York City. I didn’t go because I was a fan; I went because we were on vacation, walking through Times Square, and one of Letterman’s staff asked us if we wanted tickets. When we got there, I got the feeling that most of the audience were also tourists who were happy to be there, but not true fans. The vibe was pretty subdued, and not very raucous.

The reason I bring up this is because at the BBCAN6 show, all/most people were fans who were legitimately excited to be there.  A good chunk had even been to multiple tapings before.  There weren’t any cues to cheer or clap; the crowd just automatically knew what to do and when, which was surprising to me. The conversations I overheard were mainly about the show, and some of the questions asked of Philip were pretty nerdy (which I say with affection, fellow BBCAN nerds).

After maybe 45 minutes (I couldn’t look at my phone, so I didn’t know the time), Philip suddenly introduced the host, Arisa Cox, and she came onto the stage.  My observation would be that she is a consumate professional. Very smooth througout the proceedings, with a fun, easy-going demeanour, who interacted easily and happily with everyone.

The hostess with the mostest. Photo courtesy of Global TV

Sidenote x2: Man, Erica (an evicted houseguest this season) is popular. She got done dirty by a Canada voting twist, but she had a lot of fans among this particular audience. Conversely, when Arisa asked who we thought would win, the only contestants to be booed were Kaela and Derek (poor Derek’s family. Sad face).

Once Arisa arrived, the taping actually went smoother and faster than I thought. If you’ve seen an eviction episode, picture that, but then picture it playing out live in front of you. We saw the same intros and videos packages in order as what was shown later, with Arisa making the transitions, or throwing to breaks along the way. The pauses in between the action were only a few minutes long, up to the actual eviction part.

Ryan breakin’ it down with Arisa. Photo courtesy of Global TV.

Once Ryan (spoiler alert?) was voted out, there was a lull, as he needed to be transported from the house, to us. On TV,  you think that as soon as they walk out the house doors, they walk into the studio, but this isn’t the case. Ryan did a quick sit down interview with Arisa at that time, but came back later to do a longer interview, which was to be shown on Facebook the next day.  After the first interview, there was a long gap in the taping, as they had to get ready for the the Head Of Household competition. During this time, Philip hosted a “slop-eating contest”, where three unlucky lucky audience members got to try that classic Big Brother staple food. Surprisingly, no one gagged, and they calmly chowed down their slob.

 

We saw the first few minutes of the HOH comp, before Arisa put a wrap on things. I thought that we might be able to watch the whole competition play out, but because it was an endurance one (re: long time), this wasn’t possible. Doors opened at 3pm, and we were out of there around 6pm.

All in all, while not quite jaw-dropping (even though my daughter’s jaw dropped when I told her about the day), it was a pretty memorable experience that I’d recommend for any Big Brother fan, if the opportunity comes up. I definitely wouldn’t mind going again, in the future.

Until next time, peace. And remember…someone is always watching!!!

No, that someone watching is not me with a stupid grin, don’t worry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

McBrawlnald’s

You know that expression “the streets is watching”? Where, if you’re out on the streets, getting into trouble, you gotta be mindful of the fact that someone might have eyes on you? Along these lines, as a parent, good or bad, you quickly learn that you have to be aware at all times. Little kids see and hear everything! It’s like the Sesame Streets is watching.

Now, truth be told, pre-kid Mike said and did some stuff back in the day which I’d be embarrassed to do today. At the time, Y.O.L.O.  Who cared what people thought of me? Nowadays, though, there are many ramifications for daddy actin’ the fool in public. The most severe one would be that B, J and little KJ could see that behaviour, and emulate it. Other kids might be encouraged to repeat it, as well; kids who, in the heat of the moment, I may not even know are there. This just isn’t cool.  Stupidity breeds stupidity, right?  As such, the more that we, as responsible adults, can stop being morons acting moronically, the better things will be for the next generation.

For example, take this incident, which happened recently to my wife, K, at a McDonald’s drive-thru. I need to show you this cartographer-quality map, so you can picture what I’m talking about:

Not an actual cartographer-quality map.

 

This particular drive-thru is awkwardly designed. If you enter from street 1, you have to do the full loop around the building when you order. If you enter from street 2, depending on the size of the line, you have to veer off to the side and find a place to wait, before you can get in the line.

K was driving home with the kids one evening, when she stopped at this McDonald’s drive-thru. While waiting in line, a dude (late 20ish in age) rolled up in a pickup truck, from street 2.  Instead of looping back and going behind K in line, he stopped just off of the entrance. His idea was that after she ordered, she would pull up to the window, and he would slide in line after. The problem with this, though, was that until he ordered, he was blocking the entrance/exit.

While K waited, another dude (late 30ish) in a car, with a female passenger, drove up from behind. He wanted to exit onto street 2, but couldn’t, because of the guy in the truck.  Instead of politely asking him to move, he proceeded to roll down his window, to hurl profanities. Truck guy wasn’t having any of that noise, so he rolled down his window, and started cussing back at car guy. K was basically trapped in the middle of this swearfest, as she was boxed in, so she locked the doors.

Truck guy then decided to take things up a notch. He got out, and uttered the three favorite words of every wannabe tough guy and goon:

“YOU WANNA GO?”

Car guy, despite his lady passenger trying to hold him back, did indeed want to go. He hopped out, approached truck guy, and before you could say “let’s get ready to rumble”, they were throwing fisticuffs at each other. K, who was nervous before about the situation, was now scared, so she did what any sensible person would do.

Pulled out her phone, shot a video, and sent it to Worldstar Hip Hop?

What? No.

Her and the kids’ safety was more important than going viral. We live in volatile times, to put it mildly. If these two geniuses are the types to start scrapping in a McDonald’s drive-thru over some bad parking, who’s to say that they aren’t the types who have weapons, or even guns, on them, and would start hurting innocent bystanders?

She called 911.

As she was talking to the 911 dispatcher,  a third dude, who was at the order window, got out of his car. The two brawling mouth-breathers were now rolling around like UFC fighters.  This other guy yelled at them to stop…..

Because there were kids watching!

The two dummies used their few remaining brain cells to come to their senses, and stopped fighting. They then returned to their vehicles. One guy drove off, but the other stayed, to place an order. Remember how,  in old cartoons, the characters would use beef bandages (giant slabs of meat) on their black eyes? That’s what I figure that guy ordered. “Uh, can I please get a quarter pounder? No cheese. No toppings. No bun, either. You don’t have to cook it, just give me the raw frozen patty. Thank you.” 

Now, from this incident, do I think my oldest children are going to start swearing and sucker-punching people in fast food restaurants? I mean, they’re pretty impressionable, but hopefully not. Regardless, it really was something that they didn’t have to experience. It’s just another uncomfortable conversation that we, as parents, have to have with them. If you’re like me, you probably have too many of these talks as is.

So that’s today’s takeaway, folks. The next time you’re road raging, looking to make a spectacle of yourself to prove a point, or want to get in a fist fight in a McDonald’s drive-thru, think about the kids.

The Sesame Streets is watching.

Make A Dollar Out Of 15 Cents

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times – never underestimate the power of a child’s imagination. Even though the game’s changed, and kids nowadays are different than how I was when I was a little, this statement still rings true.

B and J, for example, love technology. If left to their own devices, they could spend hours playing on their devices, or watching TV, Netflix or Youtube.  And in all honesty, sometimes I don’t mind a little tech time. It’s a break from the chaotic havoc and non-stop bickering that usually goes on in our house. The kids quietly staring at a screen, not getting into trouble? Sign me up!

The downside, of course, is that too much screen time will probably turn their brains into mush. Therefore, kids need to find other ways to entertain themselves. And I gotta admit, when it comes to making something out of nothing, to combat boredom, J is a pretty resourceful girl.

Take last Sunday, for example. It was just J, little KJ, and yours truly hangin’ and bangin’. Out of nowhere, J blurted out that she was going to make a train.  Lacking anything even remotely resembling train parts, I had no clue what her plan was. She then ran off to the garage, came back with two giant boxes and put in some work.

KJ also tried to help.

A while later, here was her end result:


Two train cars, attached with tape. One baby-friendly, with toys and snacks for KJ.  One J-friendly, with, uhh, a picture of her hanging in it, for some reason.

They played in these for a while, including pulling them around the kitchen, making “stops”. Eventually (or a lot longer than I would have thought, since it’s just two boxes),  J got bored and tried to play on her tablet. I could tell that KJ wanted to keep playing with her, though, so I suggested that she entertain him.

Her solution? Instead of watching unboxing videos on Youtube, her and KJ could play “unboxing videos on Youtube”!

This literally involved J hiding in a box and KJ opening it up. To his credit, KJ seemed impressed each time he peeled back the flaps, and saw her sprawled inside.  You know,  like how Kristen Wiig and Maya Rudolph looked when they opened their presents in that Saturday Night Live “D**k In A Box” video.

Step 1…

Later that evening, after I put KJ to bed, I heard J singing. While some kids belt out Disney songs, or Bruno Mars hits, or Cardi B jams (see, I’m hip to today’s music), J was singing about…..punctuation.  I went in her room, and saw her standing with a marker in hand, beside this creation:

 

We then had the following conversation:

Me – What are you doing?

J – Oh, I’m just working on my anxiety.

Me – Your anxiety?!

J – Yeah.  My teacher says that I need to practise my anxiety. *starts singing about puncuation*

Me – I don’t think that’s the right word. You drew some punctuation marks.

J – I did?

Me – Yes! *I point to them*

J – Oh. There’s four of them! Question mark….explanation mark….comma…..what’s the fourth one?

Me – Period.

J – What’s a period?

Me – You drew it! It’s the dot.

J – Oh right! I forgot. Then what are these? *scribbles randomly*

Me – Those aren’t anything. Why are their hands?

J – Those are my hands.

Me – I know. But why did you draw them?

J – I dunno.

Maybe the hands were anxiety hands. Who knows.  You catch my drift, though. Leave a kid on on their own, and they can come up with some wild thoughts (word to DJ Khaled!).

Anyway, I went downstairs after that encounter. A bit later, since imagination knows no timeframe (re: she didn’t want to go to bed),  J came downstairs, to tell me about her latest project:

J – You know how you always wanted a puppy house?

Me – I’ve never said that before. We don’t even have a dog.

J – Well feast your eyes on this! See, you just put your puppy in here, and they can sleep in it.

Me – Ok. This is awesome. But the roof is a book? What if you want to read it?

J – Oh, I’m too big to read it.

Me – What if KJ wants to read it?

J – Oh. Well. He can just take the tape…

*stops talking, to think hard*

He’s never going to read it! *grabs house, goes back upstairs*

 

Children’s imagination, people. They can turn nothing into something better than we can, for real.  And that’s not even getting into the deadly burglar ball that B and J concocted.

Until next time, peace!

 

 

 

Sleeping? Beauty!

Kids passing out in random places is hilarious, man. Like, I personally have never been so tired that I just had to curl up and sleep on anywhere but a bed, couch or chair. Well, except for the time when I fell asleep on my floor, face first, in a plate of Chinese food  But that doesn’t count, because I was DRUNK!

Anyway, children are different. I used to find B in the weirdest positions, which always made me chuckle. J, unfortunately (fortunately?) has picked up on this habit, too, recently. Check it out!

We had come home late evening, and J had fallen asleep in the car. When we got to our house, she took off her coat and shoes, and went to the couch. She was so exhausted, however, that she only made it to the one end, and collapsed. She ended up in this awkward state, dangling off the side, partially upside down.  Apparently she is half five year old girl/half bat?


I apologize for the lousy lighting, as I found her in her closet like this one night.

Yeah, that’s right, her closet.

As far as I can tell, instead of going to her nice, comfy bed, she made a nest out of clothes on her closet floor. Hungry from her nesting, she then pounded back an apple sauce packet, without our permission. Finally she contorted her legs in an awkwardly flexible manner, against the door frame, and fell asleep. Apparently she is half five year old girl/half Gumby?

 

I…..I can’t even.

I can only speculate on what happened here, but I’ll give it a go.
J had a bath on this night, hence the bath toys. Afterwards, feeling so fresh n’ so clean (word to Outkast!), she naturally decided she needed to go on a trip. This required busting out the globe. I guess she’s half five year old girl/half Dora The Explorer? After deciding on a destination, she packed her Frozen backpack with just a few books, including her school yearbook. #kindergartenmemories

The destination must have been to a sunny resort, to escape the Canadian winter. The books must have been for reading material while she lounged on the beach. It was probably going to be a short trip, since she didn’t pack any clothes. Anyway, next, she must have called an Uber, to take her to the resort (I never said geography was her strong suit). Wanting to take full advantage of the door to door service, she most likely requested that the driver pick her up at the door of her choice; in this case, her bedroom doorway.  JUST the doorway, though, so that’s why she put down the STOP sign, to keep the driver from entering her room. While waiting for her Uber to arrive, she got tired,  grabbed a blanket and pillow, and fell asleep.

What? It could have happened this way!  The logic of a little kid is straight bananas sometimes, so you never know!

Awww!  No halves here. This is just 100% adorable, homey!

Big bro, lil sis, cuddled together after story time and a visit from the Sandman.   Why can’t every night be like this?

That’s all for now. Sweet dreams, everybody!

 

45 Minutes

 

So my family was in Michigan recently. While strolling around a town one evening, we decided to eat at a restaurant. I won’t say the real name of it (to not falsely incriminate them), so let’s call it Milky’s. Milky’s looked fairly busy, so I figured that I’d run in, to see what the wait time was for a table. With a seven and a five year old, along with a baby,  plus a hungry wife, timing is everything. If the wait wasn’t too bad, I’d put my name on the wait list; otherwise, we would go somewhere else.

There were four employees standing around the front area in Milky’s, and the place looked at most 3/4 full. There were only a couple of kids hanging out in the waiting lounge, too. I asked one of the hostesses how long it would be for “a table for five, but one just needs a high chair”.  The four of them talked quietly among each other, then one wandered off towards the back area. When he returned, I was told that it would be at least a 45 minute wait. That seemed a bit long, so I said thanks but no thanks, and left.

I told the family about the 45 minute time. After talking to K, we realized that by the time we walked to a different restaurant, and got seated, it would probably take at least 45 minutes, anyway. As such, we decided to add our name onto the wait list at Milky’s. Or, more specifically, because I felt sheepish about going back, K headed in to put our name down.

As K went inside, B said the following:

“If mom gets us a table, then this place is racist!”

B’s seven years old. The whole subject of racism wasn’t one that I had touched on with him yet. Needless to say, my jaw dropped at his remark, so my knee-jerk reaction was to defend Milky’s. I told him it was really busy, it didn’t matter who you were, you would have to wait regardless, and so on.

I looked up, and saw K waving us in.  She said there was a table ready for us now!  B then said to me:

“See? I told you this place was racist!”

Once again, I was speechless.

This incident sucks, to be honest. I want to give the restaurant the benefit of doubt here. K did tell me that she asked for “four people plus one high chair”. This wasn’t like how I asked, so maybe they had a different set of tables in mind for my request, than hers. Waiting 45 minutes or longer isn’t that big of a deal, as long as everyone is in the same boat.

And yet…..

A black guy wearing jorts, a baggy shirt and a fitted hat (yo, I never said I dressed well, people) gets the ‘take a hike’ time, while the pretty blonde woman walks in right after, and gets immediate service?  The table that we ended up at was in the same area where the employee had went to, when I inquired.

So the time to be seated there went from 45 to zero, real quick?

Man, the optics are sketchy. It’s entirely possible that Milky’s rationale for this was perfectly valid. However, it’s plausible that their reasoning could have been discriminatory-based, too. I don’t know for sureAnd that not knowing part sucks.

Worst of all was B’s reaction, obviously. Your number one job as a parent is to protect your kids. Unfortunately, though, there are some things in our life which you just can’t protect them from.  Death, for example. Or the cold, hard truth about Santa Claus. Or, when you are a visible minority, the fact that there are people who will hate you because of the colour of your skin. I thought seven was too young of an age to be exposed to racism, but I was wrong.

I was a little bothered during dinner. I wanted to give it some thought, before talking to B.  So later, when we discussed what had happened, I asked him where he learned about racists. His response?

“Well, Donald Trump, because he doesn’t like black people”

WTF!

Look, don’t get it twisted, I’m not throwing shade at Trump.  B apparently heard things from his friends at school, and ran with it. I just think it’s messed up that a little boy visits the USA, and because (in his mind) the President of that country doesn’t like his skin colour, he can expect to go somewhere and be discriminated against. To reiterate, I’m not claiming Trump or Milky’s are racist. I’m saying that it sucks that my seven year old son somehow came to this conclusion, and I couldn’t entirely dismiss him, when he called out Milky’s on their tactics.

It’s on me now to work on this mindset with my children, I get that.  I can’t fix racism, but I can at least instil confidence and hope in my kids about who they are, and what the future holds.  Without going all John Lennon on y’all, imagine a world where you never have to think that the colour of your skin is going to hold you back from doing stuff. Pretty crazy, eh?

And yet, why is that crazy?

Anyway, that’s my story for today. For what it’s worth, if you can deal with the possible discrimination at Milky’s, I highly recommend the fish tacos.

 

 

 

 

An Obligatory Father’s Day Post

 

Since my mom passed away last October, holidays like Mother’s Day and Father’s Day have me in a reminiscing state of mind.

See, my dad was never in the picture, growing up. Like, at all.  I only had my mom. The single parent thing isn’t uncommon, of course, but back in the day, when I was little, at my school, it wasn’t normal. So, for Father’s Day, when other kids were making cardboard ties and whatnot for their dads, I was usually the only youngster making one for their ‘father figure’ aka my mom.  I didn’t really care, though. Between that and Mother’s Day, she was the only one getting twice as many dope gifts from their child!

Having small kids now, my favorite thing about this time of year are those type of gifts that they make for me. Knowing they took the time to hook me up with a present which they worked hard on is a beautiful thing, no doubt. It reminds of when I was a young boy, which I’ve been thinking a lot about lately.

Truth be told, being a parent is the best, most rewarding thing that I’ve ever done. Yeah, I usually share the nonsense on here, because there’s a lot of nonsense. Heck, the other day, at B’s baseball game, I kept hearing people talking about someone named Dawson. “Good job, Dawson!”, and stuff like that. I eventually realized that they were talking about B. For no apparent reason, he started telling people that his name was Dawson.

Nonetheless, random 90s teen show aliases aside (and yes, we sent “Dawson” up the creek, for that stunt), there’s a lot of goodness to parenthood, too.  I can’t imagine not being apart of B, J and KJ’s lives. How anyone looks at the prospect of being a parent, says no thanks, and bounces, never to be seen or heard from again, is ridiculous to me,

Another point along these lines.  If K’s out  doing something, and I’m on my own with the three kids for a while, it’s a guaranteed struggle.  Fortunately, my difficulties are only temporary, however, and we go back to being a tag team soon enough. You do anything for your kids, period, but I appreciate now how hard it was for my mom to do what she did, on her own.

Someone called me a ‘superdad’ the other day, which, while nice, isn’t accurate at all. I’m just a basic guy who tries to be there for his kids as much as possible. But to the real superdads, super father figures, and people who are just trying to be the best that they can for their family, to you I say….

Happy Father’s Day!

 

 

 

 

 

Guest Post: Education.com Grocery Shopping Game!

It’s summertime, which can only mean one thing – it’s lemonade stand season!

 

Err…well, I guess it means more than that, but bear with me.  

See, B and J have already set up shop once this summer, and raked in some serious (to them) money by selling lemonade. They now look forward to taking their earnings to a store and making it rain, bruh!

Or just buying a bunch of candy at that store. One or the other.  

Anyway, B and J, while experienced hustlers, still have a lot to learn about the art of money. Fortunately, my good friends at Education.com have a fun, easy game to play, to help any young, budding entrepreneur or shopper. We had a great time when we played it at our house. Check it out!

 

 

Grocery Shopping Game

Want to make sure you raise a money-savvy kid? Start them out right with this activity that hides valuable math skills within a fun grocery store game. An added possible benefit of this game? It may encourage your child to join you on your next grocery pickup!

What You Need:
Money
Table
Several small objects
Paper
Construction paper

 

What You Do:

  1. Explain to your child that you will be the grocer and he will be the shopper.
  2. Lay out the small objects on the table. Objects can be anything from toys to clothes to food.
  3. Have your child help you make little paper tents out of the construction paper. (The simplest tent? Just a regular sheet of paper folded in half.)
  4. Write a price on each paper tent. Try to keep prices varied, but only as complicated as you think your child can handle.
  5. Group the items together and place a price tag in front of them. For example, all the 5 cent items should be in one group. All the $1 items are in one group and so on.
  6. Give your child a purse or baggie with some cash. If he has a wallet, this would be a good opportunity to use it.
  7. He can “buy” a number of things from you. But before you accept his money, ask him to tally up how much he owes you.
  8. If he gives you more than he owes, give him back change and ask him to count it.
  9. Continue to let him buy things until he runs out of money.
  10. Now let your child be the grocer. Have him organize the items by price on the table.
  11. Set him up with some coins and a couple of bills so that he can give you change.
  12. Go “buy” a couple items and pay him for them.
  13. If you want to challenge him, give him an incorrect amount of money and see how he handles it.
  14. After a couple rounds of this grocery game, he will be ready to shop at a real store!

How To Stop A Crying Baby In Seconds

So you’re with a baby and they won’t stop crying. You’ve fed them, changed them, busted out all of the tricks in your bag and they just won’t stop.

What do you do?

Last week, Daniel Eisenman posted this video on his Facebook page, which quickly went viral:

A simple, soothing “Om” sound and seconds later, blissful silence. So genius in its simplicity. No wonder my last resort noise (me sobbing uncontrollably, pleading with the kid to hush. Just kidding!) never worked.

Excited by this breakthrough, I couldn’t wait to test this new silencer method out on KJ when all other options failed. The result?

Yeah, that ish didn’t work. It just made him more riled up. He had his little dukes up by the end, like he wanted to punch me out, for making that sound.

However, if you’re like me, and you felt a bit let down by Mr. Eisenman’s technique, don’t fret, my pet.

See, the principles to the technique are solid. Thus, if “Om” doesn’t work…….

Try making some other random noises!

For example, I called this one A Case Of The Yips:

 

It was a bad case, because four minutes later, I was still yipping:

Here’s the creepy Ric Flair (Whoo!):

Don’t you know? About the bird?! Everybody knows that the bird is the word:

Here’s the broken buzzer:

Finally, if you’re whistling game is on point (note: my whistling game is not on point), try the Chill Bill:

Make the right noise, and your baby will stop crying in seconds!

Maybe.

I don’t know. I can’t actually guarantee that.

Regardless, if they do stop crying, don’t thank me. No, for real, I’m just a guy on the internet who ripped off someone else’s better idea.

Thank Daniel Eisenman.

 

 

 

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