While taking a road trip with my children shortly after Christmas, they all received Nintendo DSi’s including 15 games a piece. But conveniently they all seemed to want to play only one game, so they all started fighting over the one game. My youngest, who knows his role as the baby in the family started crying. Now when my middle child punches the youngest in the face, he doesn’t flinch, but God forbid you take something from him and it is automatic water works. Daddy in his infinite wisdom did not feel like dealing with the situation, maybe it was the holiday hangover or sheer exhaustion of having three kids, but I decided to just take away all of the Nintendo DSi’s. I advised the children that they would not get them back until they figured out who was going to get what game. Well after 30 minutes and no conclusion, Daddy threatened to throw them out the window. My middle child looked me dead in the eye and said, “If you throw them out the window you will go to jail.” I advised him that Daddy knows the law and that I would only receive a fine, also if I can prove that some less fortunate kid off the street picked it up I can write that off on my taxes as charity work. My son then looked in my eyes through the rear view mirror again and with a straight face said, “I dare you to throw it out the window, I will ask Santa for another DSi next Christmas!”
Never let your children call your bluff it weakens your children’s perception of your false authority. So Daddy grabbed the DSi’s and abruptly rolled down the window, making a throwing motion. All the children started crying and my son, who was so cocky at first had now realized Daddy doesn’t bluff and screamed, “No I was joking, I am sorry.” But Daddy had already thrown them out the window, to little to late, little buddy.
Now that you have been lying to your children for several years telling them that on Christmas Eve you allow a fat man dressed in all red to break into your house and leave presents under the tree for exchange for milk and cookies, it’s time to ruin their imagination by telling your children you and mommy are big fat liars. My scenario was fairly easy. My children and I were in the car driving, Daddy gets horrible road rage, as I was swearing at some lady for driving to slow, I believe she was going 35 miles an hour in a 35 (who does that). My children advised me that Santa wasn’t going to visit me this year. So Daddy inquired further. “What do you mean Santa isn’t going to visit Daddy this year?” My children responded by telling me, “Santa isn’t going to give you presents because you have a bad mouth.” Maybe it was the fact that Daddy was still driving and still slightly enraged at the old lady but my children telling me that Santa was going to give me any presents completely set Daddy off. I responded in a way that any rational parent would, I said, “Santa not F@#%ing real, I buy you your presents and put them under the tree, Now you guys aren’t getting S#$% for Christmas because I’m going to spend all the Christmas money on myself! Mommy and Daddy have been lying to you for years and you kids were stupid enough to believe it! The F$%&ing JOKES ON YOU KIDS!” Then I relaxed my voice to a more pleasing tone and said, “Merry Christmas.”
Many parenting tips suggest talking to your child, like getting down to their level and asking something of them in a nice pleasant tone. As a parent Daddy will try anything once, just to see if it works. So the other day I asked my son in the nicest way possible to go upstairs and clean his room. My son looked at me and said, “No. Not gonna do it.” This sent Daddy into a fit of raged and I quickly yelled at the top of my lungs, “Go the f@#$ upstairs and clean your f#@%in room” My son didn’t hesitate, he ran faster then fugitive running from the police. At this moment I realized getting down to their level and asking them to do something nicely is a sign of weakness, as well as a complete waste of time. Now I just shout commands at them, this ensures things get done quickly. Yelling at your child teaches them the importance of urgency and possibly that their home life is a living hell.
Parents rejoice! The first day of school is a special event, it’s when your child is old enough to have free childcare, Oh, I guess they might learn some stuff too. It’s funny to watch some parents agonize over letting their baby go. One neighbor was crying at the bus stop saying, “It’s so hard, they grow up so fast.” Daddy looked at her with a disguised face and said, “Cut the cord, Bitch!” Once your child is on the bus, call out of work and start drinking. Yes, 8 o’clock in the morning is a little early for booze, but you earned it. The night before school teach your child the wrong name for the teacher, Daddy usually goes for Ms. Douchebag because that is a word that usually defines teachers pretty dead on. Also it’s important to teach your child to never listen to the teacher because they are just trying to brain wash you into their own ideas and beliefs. Explain to them that the teacher is a liar and doesn’t believe in free thought. It’s difficult to explain this to a 5 year old, but in time you will either have a free thinker or the defiant little bastard will get kicked out of school.
Stress can be fun if you harvest it correctly, into your children. Instilling values like second place is for the biggest loser or even though you were runner up that still means you were weren’t the prettiest or the most talented. By teaching your child not to fail you put tremendous pressure on them, some might say it’s unhealthy but that’s usually the people that are losers or have loser children. It’s a simple philosophy, you teach your child that failing is shameful and that your love for them is contingent on them always winning. This will either drive them to be very successful or push them over the edge emotionally, to a state of unhappiness that will result in failed suicide attempts (and when they fail at trying to kill themselves, make sure to point out how they are a complete failure because they didn’t even do that right).
This fear became a reality the other day when my oldest was itching her head. Daddy doesn’t normally respond to his children’s needs but my daughter was very persistent that her head was itchy. Upon inspection I noticed bugs crawling in her hair, which I obviously responded by jerking back and yelling like a little girl, “Gross! You have bugs in your hair. Get AWAY!” This sent her into a full blown panic attack which left her emotionally helpless and in need of a hug. And of course me being the father I am, I immediately pushed her away and said I don’t want lice, that’s gross. Daddy dropped everything and started phoning Mommy right away to come home and handle this emergency. Afraid Mommy might not respond to head lice with such urgency and tell Daddy to be a man and finally do something for once, I called and acted like it was a big crazy family emergency and hung up on her coworker. Mommy rushed home in a panic and Daddy said with a sigh of relief, “Our daughter has lice, do something.”
When you were in college how did you know your party was a success? Everyone got drunk as hell and someone ended up vomiting all over the place. Children’s parties are slightly different. All alcohol consumption should only be partaken by the adults, well at least until the parties are no longer at Chuck E. Cheese. Which I might point out has a 1 beer an hour limit. So Daddy had too smuggle his flask in the door. Daddy told Mommy if the Chucky gives him any problems he’s gonna punch that mouse in his over-padded big fat head.
Daddy’s not a violent drunk but the word party in Daddy’s dictionary means booze and drugs. So when the mouse came over and told daddy he was too drunk and asked him to leave because, “Chuck E. Cheese is a place where a kid can be a kid.” Daddy immediately gave Chucky a hand full of reasons to change that policy.
In the fog of drunkenness Daddy didn’t realize the birthday girl along with the other kids were crying “STOP” not chanting kill Chucky. See whenever Daddy fights all he hears is the “Rocky Theme Song” playing in his head. So in order to rectify the situation Daddy ripped off the 16-year girl’s Chuck E Cheese mask to expose her as a fake, or my exact word “Look Chucky is a fake just like that fat motherfucker Santa Claus.” Then I vomited all over the mouse and was escorted out. Daddy doesn’t really remember this event actually happening, but Mommy has the video, which she is going to edit with classical music so it doesn’t look as violent.