Dear Jack: That Time You Secretly Decided to Be a Nerf Sniper at Zeke’s Birthday Party

6 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Saturday afternoon, our family attended your classmate’s 6th birthday party at his family’s house. Mommy and I held Holly, while we sat on the covered back porch, along with the other parents.

Pretty early on into the party, Zeke’s dad brought out the Nerf mini dart guns for all the kids to run around in the back yard and shoot each other, while all the adults casually watched the chaos.

After a few minutes of the 6 year-old version of the Hunger Games taking place, I looked up from holding your sister’s hand as she walked along the patio furniture, and saw you quietly standing there on the outside of the guard rail, appearing to take aim.

I was right.

Because then, I saw you pull the trigger, hitting one of your friends in the chest as he ran across the yard. He had no idea he had been hit by the Nerf Sniper.

Then I muttered to you, “Jack, are you standing up there and shooting them without them knowing what you’re doing?”

You smiled so sneakily and shook your head, yes.

Obviously, I was proud of you. After all, it was a free-for-all. There were no rules. No one said you had to stay down in the line of fire and get shot like everyone else.

Good for you, assuming the role of the sniper.

Your idea of fun wasn’t running around, laughing with your friends. Instead, your idea of fun was winning. This was not a game at a birthday party. This was war.

By the time the others figured out what you were doing, it was time to go inside for pizza and cake.

I imagine a few years from now when your friends start having laser tag birthday parties, you’re definitely going to have an advantage.

Love,

Daddy

Dear Holly: Your 1 Year Check Up Results from the Doctor- 60th Percentile for Height, 16th for Weight

1 year.

Dear Holly,

For the first two years of his life, your brother was a very husky boy.

Obviously, he grew out of his “baby body suit” around the age of 3, and now the word “husky” could no longer be used to describe him.

But as for you, you’ve just always been a light little girl. Even when Mommy was pregnant with you, there was some concern from the nurses that you wouldn’t weigh enough. It all worked out, though, since you were born weighing 7 pounds, 5 ounces.

Last week Mommy took you to your 1 year check-up at the doctor’s office. You are currently in the 60th percentile for height and the 16th percentile for weight.

As I look at you in these pictures, I see a little China doll. Well actually, with your complexion, you’re more like a Norwegian doll.

This past weekend while we were at a birthday party for one of your brother’s classmates, I took a couple of pictures of you playing. In one of them, you have this look on your face that seems to imply, “Whew… I didn’t know being so cute all day long would be so exhausting!”

I see you as delicate; yet strong, curious, and determined.

You look just as cute with an actual girls’ doll as you do with one of your brother’s Pickachu stuffed animals.

Mommy and I are now transitioning you that much more off of formula and onto cow’s milk and solid foods.

Oh, and we’ve got you wearing shoes now. You’ve been a barefoot baby up until this point.

After all, you’re learning to walk. You’re on the move. You need to have cute little girly shoes for that.

Also, Mommy and I are starting to see your two top teeth come in. You love munching on Cheerios.

I am watching you transition from baby to little girl.

And I love it.

Love,

Daddy

This is 36: I Got the “I’m Not a Soccer Dad” Haircut

I should start by acknowledging that I honestly never expected to still have this much hair by the time I was age 36. Subconsciously, since high school, I had just always assumed that by the time I was in my mid 30s and was married and had 2 kids, I would be lucky to still even have a decent island of real estate up there.

Because that’s just what happens to men. I suppose I’ve just always simply viewed men’s hair loss as a common trait of masculinity.

Like Bruce Willis in Die Hard. Like Bald Bull on Mike Tyson’s Punch Out. Like Mr. Clean.

There’s no shame in it. In fact, it’s weird to me that some men, like Ronald Reagan and Tony Danza and Anthony Bourdain, never lost their hair.

What is normal is for a man to lose his hair, not keep it.

And even now, it’s only a matter of time; a question of how many years until I lose so much hair that I do the cool thing and just shave my head for the rest of my life. I am so prepared for this!

Yet strangely, I still have hair. For now.

For me, the danger of being a married, 36 year-old father of 2 who still has hair, is that I could fall in danger of being labelled as a “soccer dad.”

While I’m sure to many, the term soccer dad is a term of endearment and not a negative one, for me, it’s a concept I’m resisting.

Like wearing khaki pants with New Balance running shoes. No thanks.

I fully embrace and celebrate my age of 36. But for me, I don’t want to get stuck in a certain year of my life. I believe in continually reinventing myself. That’s psychologically important to who I am as a person.

And that’s why I decided to make 2017 the year of the “I’m Not a Soccer Dad” Hairstyle.

It’s basically a longer version of a crew cut, as it’s longer in the front (2 inches) than it is in the back. What makes this hairstyle particularly edgy and trendy, is the “disconnected” part on the side:

Where my hair is parted, there is no fade from the 2 inch length on top to the #4 guard (and #2) on the sides and back, which comes up pretty high.

No one is going to call me a soccer dad looking like this.

As Bruce Springsteen once said, “I’m a cool rockin’ daddy in the U.S.A.”

This is 36.

This is 36: The CD Player in My Paid Off, 13 Year-Old Car Stopped Working… So I Now I Use My Shattered iPod from 2006

I have first world problems. And even then, the word “problems” is a ridiculous overstatement.

Two weeks ago, the CD player in my old (but paid off) 2004 Honda Element stopped working. I had just purchased every Metallica album for $5.99 on clearance at Best Buy… where they are apparently doing away with selling CDs now that most people just download or stream their music.

(In case you’re not aware of my premature mid-life crisis where I suddenly became a huge Metallica fan and legitimately taught myself to skateboard, read all about it here.)

So now, sitting in the cubby of my dash, there are several CDs that I have yet to wear out, including others I have kept in heavy rotation- until now.

It’s important to note that as a skilled driver in the Nashville area, I have accepted my fate that I will be in the car for a total minimum of 2 hours each day, to drive only about 38 total miles round trip for my daily commute for work.

Just me in the car with my thoughts for two hours, every day.

I depend on that solitude. It is good for my brain and good for my soul.

And that solitude has always been undeniably enhanced by the kinesthetic routine of physically placing whatever CD that I feel like listening to at the moment into the CD player to play through the speakers.

No streaming or digital files. Just a CD. Like in high school in the 1999.

But now, that American right has been taken away.

And it’s definitely not worth buying a new CD player for my car.

Hopefully, I won’t be getting a new car anytime soon. That’s right- hopefully, I won’t.

Last year between having a baby, paying cash for a new car for my wife, taking a big family vacation, and having multiple hospital stays for our kids… this year is all about saving our money to eventually buy me a new car in cash like we did for my wife.

I need my faithful Honda Element to hold up until we can buy me a new car, which will be well over a year. It’s almost like I pray every time turn I turn the key in the ignition, “Please don’t let this be the day it doesn’t start…”

With us being Dave Ramsey followers, I would feel horrible about myself if I had to finance a new vehicle. It goes against who I am as a person.

So here’s who I am as a person: I now proudly drive while listening to a busted iPod that has a battery that dies by the end of my 2 hour round trip commute, even though it’s fully charged when I leave the house.

Anything from before 2007 is on there, though. Time to get reacquainted with The Wallflowers and Sister Hazel.

This is 36.

This is 36: My Wife and I are Rarely Seen Together in Public, Despite Being Happily Married

Saturday afternoon was a peculiar occurrence: Had you been invited to Zeke’s birthday party in Spring Hill, Tennessee, then you would have seen both me and my wife there together, at the same time. That doesn’t happen often!

This is the part of the blog post where you either A) instantly identify with this concept, or B) are very confused right now as to why seeing a happily married couple together in public is an odd phenomenon.

In case you fall into the 2nd category, which I doubt you do if you are reading this, here’s how it works:

My wife and I both work full-time jobs in which we both have to commute about 2 hours round trip. Not to mention, we both are responsible for housework. While my wife definitely carries the heavier part of that burden, I also work two side jobs for supplemental income: this blog and my YouTube channel.

When the weekend finally comes, it typically consists of me staying home with the kids while my wife goes out and buys the groceries and runs other necessary errands. By the time the afternoon rolls around, she’s usually ready to stay home with the baby and I’m eager to get out with our son.

Therefore I take him out to whatever birthday party he’s been invited to, or to new Marvel movie that is out… or we just go hiking alongside a creek.

And during the week, I’m dropping off the kids at school and my wife is picking them up. So their teachers have basically never see the two of us together.

But this past Saturday, our whole family woke up early because Great Clips was having their phantom $6.99 haircut sale, so my son and I were there when the doors opened at 8:00 AM. That sped up all the other events of the morning.

Therefore, my wife felt like going to Zeke’s birthday party and taking the baby. And alas, we showed up together.

Granted, our son has been invited to another birthday party this coming Saturday at Chuck E. Cheese’s. I seriously doubt my wife will be there.

It’s just a rare thing to see me and my wife together in public.

This is 36.