Dear Jack: You Wrote and Illustrated Your Very 1st Original Book, “Creepy Animals” (Or As I Call It, “The Fluffy and the Furious”)

6 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

I am so proud of you. You took it upon yourself to write, and illustrate, your very first book. It had nothing to do with any assignment at school.

Sure, I knew this day would come… I just didn’t realize it would happen so soon!

But especially with you being in “A.R.” (Advanced Readers), in your Kindergarten class, you naturally have an interest in applying what you know to your already existing level of creativity.

The funny thing is, I had no idea you were even working on a book until the day you finished it. You had been working on it each day at the house after school, before I got home.

With no further ado, here is your very 1st original book, Creepy Animals:

One day there was a new monster. The monsters were creepy.

They were furious. And were fluffy.

They were dangerous and could fly. They had horns.

There could be creepy birds. They had sharp, pointy teeth.

There could be spidercats. And thorns.

And weird animals. And sharp, and pointy spikes.

The end.

Right away, I appreciate how the story begins in suspense, as we are presented with a new monster. Then we learn he is one of many monsters.

The suspense continues, and the curiosity arises, as we wonder why the monsters are so furious. Somewhat ironic is the fact that these same furious monsters are also fluffy. Typically, things that are fluffy are not also furious, but these monsters are definitely the exception to the rule!

We read on to learn how prevalent horns are among these monsters- and we are even given a mention of spidercats!

These are weird animals, indeed.

Thank you so much for writing and illustrating your first book. I know there will be many more. I especially look forward to us eventually working on a book together- where I write it and you illustrate it.

That’s going to be awesome!

Love,

Daddy

This is 36: Without Saying a Word, My 1 Year-Old Daughter Convinced Me to Buy Her a Stuffed Animal from Guardians of the Galaxy, Volume 2

Last Saturday as our family was out running errands, since our plans to visit the Nashville Zoo for my daughter’s 1st birthday were cancelled due to the rain, we ended up at the classiest Wal-Mart I’ve ever been to in my life: It’s just the one in our neighborhood; we can basically see it from our house.

My wife and I were counselling our son as he tried to pick out the best birthday present for one of his classmate’s birthday parties coming up at Chuck E. Cheese’s. I was holding my daughter in sort of a rickshaw position as we followed my wife and son down the toy aisles.

As we journeyed through the classiest WalMart this side of the Mississippi, my daughter was over all not impressed by the toy selection that she was being exposed to, as it all was for “older kids”. Like Shopkins and action figures kind of stuff.

But then, she saw it…

A fury face on the shelf. She was mesmerized.

It was a Hero Plushy of the mutant raccoon named Rocket, from the cast of the upcoming movie, Guardians of the Galaxy, Volume 2.

But it wasn’t just a normal stuffed animal. It had a tiny body and a big head, like a caricature.

My daughter’s tiny hand was the perfect size for the undersized body of the toy.

She could easily hold it like an ice cream cone.

By this point, my wife had already picked up on what was going on, as she had turned around to see the two of us petting an arguably ridiculous stuffed animal.

It was pretty obvious at this point that not only would my 1 year-old daughter not have to even attempt to ask for the toy, but that I myself wouldn’t even have to have a conversation with my wife about the fact we were about to spend $10 on a Marvel character plush toy.

My wife’s only attempt to thwart the inevitable was to reach out a grab a pink girly-looking pony stuffed animal that cost $6.

But our little girl definitely didn’t have the same glimmer in her eye as she did for the Guardians of the Galaxy raccoon that she was already turning back to.

As if I needed to give a seemingly legitimate excuse as to why we were about to make this impulse purchase, I suggested to my wife:

“We can let this be my gift to her for her birthday.”

I have to give my little girl what she wants. Especially when it’s a cool mutant raccoon from a Marvel movie.

This is 36.

This is 36: The Story behind My 1 Year-Old Daughter’s 1st Face Palm at the Mexican Restaurant

By now you’ve probably already read the first entry in This is 36, which explains the motivation behind this new series; how being surprisingly pie-faced on my 36th birthday at Tito’s Mexican restaurant in Spring Hill, TN serves as the perfect symbolism of my life at age 36.

As my wife and I were looking through the other pictures from that night, we found another photo that actually has enough merit on its own.

The picture is from when I decided I wanted my wife to take a picture of me with our kids, after we had finished our sopapillas for dessert. I of course am wearing the cartoonish Mexican birthday sombrero, while my son is undeniably proud to be squeezing his little sister, who is smooshed in between us.

Yeah, I know… The real reason she had her hand on her face is that she was getting tired, as her bedtime was growing near.

But if you’re looking at the picture without knowing that, it easily looks like she is doing a “face palm”, as if to communicate her embarrassment to be stuck in the middle of the two of us goofballs.

It’s just hilarious to imagine a little 1 year-old girl face palming, as if she’s embarrassed to be seen in public with us.

After all, this picture is a pretty accurate illustration of what life is like for her. So much of her time is spent alongside her brother and me. We naturally feel obligated to entertain her, serving as her constant court jesters.

Ultimately, if she doesn’t learn to adopt the silliness which surrounds her, she will likely be doing the face palm a lot more as she grows into her tween years.

But I have a feeling, she will end up joining us in the daily circus.

This is 36.

This is 36: The Story behind the Pie-Face Picture on My 36th Birthday

Last Thursday night as my birthday came to a close, I posted a picture on Facebook that was taken just a couple of hours earlier. The caption simply read, “This is 36.” The picture showed me right after I had been pie-faced by one of the servers at our favorite restaurant, Tito’s.

Indeed, it caught me by complete surprise. I had no intentions that night of being pie-faced for the first time in my life. Sure, one of the waiters leaned over to me and muttered into my ear right before they sang “Happy Birthday” and told me, “We’re going to throw pie in your face… is that okay?”

I just smiled and nodded my head, assuming he was just joking. I still didn’t take him seriously even when he told my wife, “Grab your camera. You will want a picture of this…”

Actually, I didn’t even realize what had happened until I tasted the whipped cream. My mouth just happened to be open with the pie came at me. I never even saw it happen, as the girl who did it secretly had the pie behind me.

(And yes, I just have to count this as a “fortunate accident”, as consuming whipped cream violates my vegan lifestyle…)

Even after 24 hours and two showers, I was still sort of able to smell the whipped cream. It got pretty high up my nose.

To me, that image is the perfect concept of how I interpret being 36 years old.

I had just turned 18 when I graduated high school in 1999. That means just as many years have passed since then. I am 36.

And I am proud to be 36. I embrace change. I accept the minor (or are they major?) evolutions in my personality that come along with being age 36. I gladly commemorate what this seemingly insignificant age symbolizes to me.

It’s like getting surprisingly pie-faced, then instantly laughing because you already know that it’s the little things in life that become the big things.

This is 36.

Dear Jack: You Lost Your 1st Tooth… and So Did the Tooth Fairy!

6 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Thursday as I drove you to school, you told me, “Daddy, my tooth is starting to hurt a little bit now when I wiggle it.” I told you that was a good sign you’d be losing your first tooth pretty soon.

When I got home that evening from work, Mommy immediately called you over to me.

You then announced: “Daddy, look! I lost my tooth!” You held up a clear plastic bag, containing your little white trophy inside.

This is amazing to me, as it was such a quick process; not long and drawn out over several weeks like it was for my first tooth. There was no need for me to tease you about scenarios in which I might have to tie a string to your tooth on one end and then to a door knob on the other, then slam the door, causing your tooth to be jerked out.

None of that was necessary. It was just so simple and subtle with your first tooth.

Not to mention, you’re not even 6 and a half yet; still in Kindergarten. From what we can remember, Mommy and I were in 2nd grade.

As I got you ready for bed that night, you explained you would rather place the tooth on your night stand, not under your pillow. I had no issue with that.

What you didn’t explain, however, was that for some reason, you decided to place the tooth on top of the plastic bag, instead of inside of it. Don’t ask me how I know this, but the tooth fairy just picked up the bag from your night stand, leaving behind the tooth; along with 5 one dollar bills.

Once the tooth fairy realized that the tooth had been left behind, the tooth fairy had to crawl on hands and knees in the dark in an attempt to locate the tooth, assuming it had fallen into the carpet. Fortunately, the tooth was still on the night stand somehow.

Your first tooth was lost in more ways than one!

Love,

Daddy

Dear Jack: Our “Skateboard and Stroller Vs. Sprinters” Race!

6 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

This weekend I was supposed to take you to go watch the new Power Rangers movie, but you were satisfied with watching Trolls from Redbox. So instead, our family made the most of the wonderful spring weather in our cul-de-sac.

It all started when Mommy decided to push you and your sister in the double stroller, while I skateboarded alongside you all. But that didn’t last long…

Because you soon realized you didn’t want me to be able to move faster than you. There’s too much competition running through your veins to be okay with me going faster than you, in any capacity.

This quickly evolved into a series of official races.

You sprinting versus me pushing your sister in the stroller while I skateboarded.

There were some close ones, but you beat us every time. You are truly a fast runner.

And I was legitimately trying to win! I’m not the kind of dad who lets his son win. I suppose that only adds to your competitive spirit. You have to earn a win with me.

Then Mommy wanted to see if she could run faster than you. She’s fast, but not fast enough for you. So it stands, you are the official champion of the “skateboard and stroller vs. sprinters” race in our cul-de-sac.

For anyone happening to drive through our neighborhood this weekend, just casually looking for houses on the market, I’m sure they were in for a surprise when they saw a family conducting a series of wacky races! It had to be such a strange, yet fun-looking event.

But hey, it’s our cul-de-sac. Our neighbors are used to our antics by now.

Though we’re often on the go, when we are home, we’re bound to be doing something that’s not quite so normal.

By the way, let our “skateboard and stroller vs. sprinters” race serves as proof that you undeniably having really cool parents!

Love,

Daddy

I Wonder If Some People Actually Think That Guy on the Campbell’s Go Soup Package is Me?…

A couple of days ago in the blog post where I announced I made the Top 40 Daddy Bloggers list, the thumbnail that showed up on everyone’s Facebook feed was the picture where I am holding up the Campbell’s Go Soup package; as I am impersonating the guy. I chose that picture assuming everyone knew the story, which I have explained before:

I am attempting to find and meet the guy on Campbell’s Go soup package. So therefore, I am not the guy. Instead, he is my doppelganger, my twin, my look-alike.

However, one of the comments I received on the blog post was this:

“Hey, I know that dude on the soup label and he is a GREAT Dad!”

The person who said this was assuming that I am the guy on the Campbell’s Go soup package. And that made me think, “I wonder if some people actually think that guy is me?”

Over the past several months, I’ve made a few videos on my YouTube channel and have published a few blog posts about my resemblance to the model.

Which, by the way, I take that as a major compliment. I turn 36 years old two weeks from today. The soup package is copyrighted from the year 2012. And I assume this guy is younger than me to begin with. So to imply I look like I’m in my late 20s, I see that as a compliment, for sure.

I think it is quite possible that in the ocean of information that washes up on the shores of people’s Facebook feeds every day, certain people saw the picture of me comparing myself to the Campbell’s guy and assumed it was a blog post or video announced that I was hired to be the model on the soup package.

But no, that’s definitely not me on the soup package.

If it’s in my power though, I am going to find and meet this guy- and hopefully, became his friend in real life.