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Thursday

Because I'm Fly

Pimp Chihuahua


I'm fly.

Why?

When I wake up each morning around 6 am the first thing I usually see is Dora the Explorer sitting on the nightstand next to me. The birds are at it with their chirping. I rub my eyes, take a deep breath and begin to stir.

As soon as I hit the hallway I hear the awful, wretched screech of a cat left out on the couch overnight. A cat that 3 out of 4 of us are allergic to. A cat that no one will take because they are allergic, too. A cat that leaves furballs, fur and presents around the house for Daddy to clean up because Mama's never around when the dirty deeds are done.

Four steps in and I'm at my son's door. The first thing I see are his size 12 feet shooting out at the end of his bed like crossed swords. The smell of onions, cocoa butter, hair gel and Lagerfeld fill my lungs and my eyes roll back involuntarily. I tell him to get up and he uncoils the five spindly fingers on his left hand --- a hand sign since all of us can remember that means "five more minutes."

I close his door, take in all the cat dander in the air and decrease my capacity for oxygen intake that much more than the breath before it. Then I fart so loud the floor rumbles beneath my feet.

Why?

Because I'm fly.

That's right I'm King Payne of my house and no one told me so. Was someone supposed to? I just emanates from my essence. As Minister of Household Affairs I rule the fridge with an iron fist and before anyone gets home you can't find a speck of dirt or lint anywhere. Then once everyone is home all the dishes, every single cup we own and all the silverware --- even serving spoons, somehow end up dirty and in the sink. But it's okay.

Why?

Because I'm fly.

As I sit at home in the evening while a 13 year old and a 3 year old beat all over each other, kicking and screaming the whole time; as I sit at the dinner table with a boy who thinks all of his food is finger food and somehow manages to spill something no matter how contained it is; as I sit at the head of the table with a girl who has recently taken up throwing food (mostly at her brother) and my spotless dining room devolves into a kindergarten cafeteria, I sit back, put my hands behind my head and wink at my wife.

Why?

Because I'm fly.

After the kids are down for the night I spend time with my wife watching Law & Order reruns, catching up on the latest dish on the Internet or watching a movie on cable. I tell myself every night the key to a good day is a good night's rest and I promise myself to go to bed at midnight, at the latest, each night. And almost every night I black out on the couch in front of the television contorted in some way so that when I stand up my left knee feels like it's been hit with a sledgehammer. I wipe the cat fur off my clothes, switch into my pjs and keep it moving stumbling off to bed where I lay down and let off a few thunderous farts. My wife tells me I'm disgusting and depending on how bad they smell she may actually sit up and start punching me as I lay half conscious laughing hysterically.

Why?

You know why...

And then as I spend the night dreaming of beating up the bad guys, I'm interrupted at least three or four times when my wife knees me in my stomach, spinal cord, and/or butt to tell me I'm taking up too much of the bed. I come to and see that I'm lying along the far edge of my side of the mattress with no sheets covering me, scrunched up, doing my best not to fall to the floor and crack my head wide open on the nightstand on the way down. The cat hears movement and begins screaming and clawing at the door. But it's cool...just like it is every night.

Why?

Because I'm fly (Imagine all this with the music for the new Quiznos commercials playing in the background).

How could you not vote (click the button below) for a hot daddy blogger like me? How could you not vote for a person willing to take this photo (see below)? How could you not vote for someone so cool, calm and collected, even though he's crying inside? No one told me I'm fly. But no one told me I wasn't.

Why?

Because I'm fly.

Doof My site was nominated for Hottest Daddy Blogger!



Just jokes folks. But maybe not.

Make sure to visit Dad-Blogs.com the place where fathers go to spill their guts about what makes us tick and sometimes what ticks us off. Happy Fatherhood Friday.

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