This is Ridiculous, This is Amazing

by Jason Good

  34. Little help? This fort just collapsed on me.

  35. Please rebuild the fort exactly like it was before while I lie here and drink milk.

  36. No, that’s already not right.

  37. Well, for one, there was no steeple on the last fort.

  38. What’s the longest book in the house? Cool, I wanna read that before bed.

  A Three-Year-Old Searches for His Shoes

  As a bonus, here’s the thought process of a typical three-year-old as he searches for his shoes.

  1. Those my socks?

  2. Looks like a red mouse.

  3. Is that a red mouse?

  4. Definitely not my socks.

  5. Oh look, the chimney broom.

  6. I’m hungry.

  7. Umm, where’s Mommy?

  8. Where’s Daddy’s phone?

  9. Oh look, I don’t have any shoes on.

  10. Ah, there’s Mommy. She’ll know where Daddy’s phone is.

  11. You know what? I don’t like these pants.

  12. No, not those.

  13. I want a different pair of pants, like, maybe a pair I don’t actually have.

  14. I’ll put my shoes on AFTER someone orders me new pants from the computer.

  15. Where are my new pants?

  16. She did that computer thing so my pants should be here now.

  17. What’s the cat doing? DON’T TOUCH THE RED MOUSE that might actually be my socks.

  18. Crackers.

  19. Crackers.

  20. No, different crackers.

  21. I have to pee, but not in these pants.

  22. New pants here yet?

  23. Seriously, I have to pee.

  24. Fine, I’ll pee, but my pants better be here when I’m done.

  25. Oh, look! THERE are my shoes! I should probably kick them under the radiator.

  26. If I turn this stool upside down can I fill it with water?

  27. Nope.

  28. Well, the floor’s already wet, so I’ll just pee here.

  29. Ummm, why are they looking for my shoes when they should be waiting for my new pants?

  30. How the hell would I know where my shoes are? I’m three.

  How Board Games End

  This is a really short one because there are only three possible outcomes.

  1

  Crying

  2

  Taunting followed by an obnoxious victory dance

  3

  Someone walks away in the middle because they’re losing

  I’ve found this also to be true for adults playing Pictionary.

  Oliver’s Take

  Sometimes a family needs an outsider to provide a realistic view of day-to-day operations. Our cat-, Oliver; seems to be pretty objective.

  Jason’s posture reminds me of my mother stalking a cricket—all hunched over and intense.

  Five seconds until the little one falls and cries.

  Five, four, three . . . oh, that was fast.

  Damn, here he comes.

  Okay, that was my eye. And my other eye. And my pancreas.

  No idea if I have a pancreas.

  Didn’t even know I was aware pancreases existed. That’s weird. If you say pancreas enough you’ll probably start to laugh. Or not. Whatever. Sometimes I don’t even know who I am.

  I’m moving to the couch for some serious downtime.

  They’re talking about the color of the walls AGAIN. I told them not to do white. Did they listen? Nope! And now they’re going with dark blue? Good lord, they’re all going to need lithium. Here comes talk of a new sofa in three, two, one . . . bam. These people are more predictable than me with string.

  Ha ha ha ha ha ha—the big one with glasses is asking the little one about bed already. Bro, it’s 6:30! Why do you do that to yourself? Give it a half hour. Trust me, I’m here way more than you are.

  YES, a new episode of your stupid show is on tonight. SHUT UP!!!!!!!!! It’s on MONDAYS. Should I spray the wall to remind you?

  Sorry, I think I’m just hungry.

  HOLY CRAP WHAT WAS THAT?

  Oh God, the vacuum cleaner.

  That thing! Hey vacuum, could you sound a little less like a natural disaster? Thanks.

  Jesus, look at my tail. I’m a nervous wreck now. I probably look like a raccoon.

  I need some alone time.

  Oh great, the basement is trashed and I just stepped on something wet. Could’ve been juice, could’ve been spit. Only way to find out is to taste it. Yup, spit. Whatever. I’m out.

  Needed: Hollywood Agents for Parents

  Kids are soprano-voiced, bossy movie directors. We can state our case for not going down to the basement right now, but they’re relentless in their commitment to seeing things through. I imagine it’s the same when you’re on set with Quentin Tarantino or Martin Scorsese; they know what they want and no one’s going to get in their way. Like actors on a set, parents need good representation, someone they can turn to when their boss becomes unreasonable and they’ve lost their ability to communicate in a calm, rational manner. Let’s look at some examples.

  THE ISSUE: No matter how much you ask, and no matter how stern you sound or how loudly you yell, your kid won’t stop throwing food on the floor so the cat eats it and barfs all over your new sofa. It’s tough, isn’t it? Is your flabbergasted tone helping the situation? Probably not. Call your agent.

  AGENT: “Look, kid, I know it’s funny when the cat barfs. And I’m an expert on funny because I worked on the set of The Hangover. Did I ever tell you that? The truth is (and don’t tell your mom or dad I said this), I’ve loved all your work, going all the way back to the time you threw your snow boot in the toilet. You’re a true icon and idol to toddlers everywhere. But the fact is, you’re creating a very difficult working environment for my client and since he’s the one who provides the food you’re throwing, it’s probably best if you cool it. At least wait until he leaves the room. Deal?”

  THE ISSUE: Your kid refuses to let you change his diaper. You’re chasing him around the house hunched over like Rocky trying to catch a chicken. Your back is spasming and you’re moments from giving up. Do not give up! Call your agent.

  AGENT: “Yo, my man! What is that smell? Righteous, bro! Heyyyyyyy, I know you’re proud of what you did there and, hell, who wouldn’t be? I was so proud of the way I negotiated Tom Cruise’s salary for Minority Report. Did I ever tell you about that? Anyway, whaddya say we change those soily drawers so you can spend all of that creative energy on your next diaper-fillin’ project?”

  I’m going to stop myself there. It occurs to me that these “agents” I speak of already exist and they’re called “grandfathers.”

  The Stages of Parenting

  If these look familiar, it’s because they are also the seven stages of grief.

  1. SHOCK AND DENIAL Let’s say, for instance, that you ask your child a question and they simply stare back at you blankly. You ask it again, but are met with the same response. Because you want to believe your child is good, you assume they must not have heard you, perhaps because they have peas stuck in their ears. You make your request yet again, only this time loudly enough to remove any doubt. Nothing.

  2. PAIN AND GUILT The parent realizes the child hasn’t listened and, in fact, might be actively ignoring them. It hurts deeply, but, in the end, the parent understands that something they’ve done has caused their child to behave this way.

  3. ANGER AND BARGAINING In the face of pain and guilt over what they believe to be an increasingly dysfunctional relationship, frustration begins bubbling to the surface. It’s a completely natural reaction in this stage for the parent to become angry and sometimes yell at the child. The child might cry or return the angry yell, at which point the parent returns briefly to the guilt stage. Because of this, the parent will apologize and bribe the child to stop crying.

  4. DEPRESSION, REFLECTION, AND LONELINESS Regardless of the outcome, the parent will experience some sadness over how the situation
was handled. Thinking back, they understand this is a bad pattern and an overwhelming sense of doubt about their parenting skills sets in. When the child naps, or goes off to school, the parent is left alone realizing that someday that same child will be leaving for college.

  5. THE UPWARD TURN “Next time I will handle this differently. They grow up too fast to spend so much time struggling with them over stupid stuff.” This is a very common thought at this stage. A new energy is directed toward improving the future. The parent/child relationship appears to be headed in a more positive direction. Familial bliss has returned, and the future seems ripe with family vacations filled with laughter and cuddling.

  6. RECONSTRUCTION AND WORKING THROUGH With everyone so happy, the parent does all they can to ensure things stay that way. The parent might attempt to set up systems through which rewards are given for good behavior. The child seems excited about this new game. A new kind of relationship arises, and both parties express their commitment to it.

  7. ACCEPTANCE AND HOPE Things are different now. Both parent and child are aware of this. It wasn’t ideal for either of them, but each recognizes the change is necessary if harmony is to be maintained. After only a few days, however, this new structure begins to crumble, and the entire process must begin again. The parent hopes the stages will be different this time, but they almost never are. They once again are shocked and enter a state of denial when the child appears to have unlearned all the lessons of the previous few days. All the parent can do is try again, and believe that eventually harmony will stick around.

  Arlo’s Letter to Santa

  If my three-year-old son had the verbal skills and self-awareness to make a Christmas list, I imagine it might read something like this.

  Dear Santa Claus (weird name by the way. You’d think since you’re so big with kids, you’d stay away from all those S sounds. You know we’re bad at them, right?),

  Here’s the stuff I want. And by “want,” I mean “NEED.”

  1. My own dishwasher so I can use the door as a trampoline (honestly, there’s something about the springiness that I haven’t been able to replicate anywhere else).

  2. If you have control over laws and stuff like that (you must have sway at least, right?), make pants illegal. I bet that one’s on other kids’ lists too.

  3. How many lollipops do you have up there in Greenland? GIVE THEM ALL TO ME. (That was supposed to be a scary demon voice. Not sure how fonts work, but that’s what I was trying to do. Really really really want lots of lollipops. Like, at least eight. K?)

  4. Rip-away clothes. Not sure if that’s what they’re called, but I want a shirt that, when I tug on the front of it, it comes off.

  5. A JACKHAMMER!

  6. A rabbit. In case you’re out of those, I can live with a squirrel or buffalo. All seem neat and fun.

  7. A Jet Ski. Have you SEEN those things? !!!!

  8. Ninety minutes of foot reflexology. (No idea what this is, but it seems to be popular with my mom and her friends, so I figure I’ll give it a shot.)

  9. POPCORN and lots of it. Cheese popcorn is preferable, but I could also go with kettle or caramel. Actually, just get me ten of those combo buckets. I was going to put this first, but didn’t want to come on too strong right off the bat.

  10. A pommel horse.

  Love,

  Arlo

  From Arlo to Silas

  He’s too young to talk much, but my three-year-old has some things he’d like to communicate to his five-year-old brother.

  Silas,

  I have to make it quick because I need to get my diaper off and show everyone how awesome I am at taking a whiz. When was the last time you watched me pee, by the way? After that, I’m gonna get mom to hold me up and name all the stuff in the fridge. Until then, I wanna rap about a few issues, cool?

  First off, you’re rad. I know I’m just a dude who knocks stuff over and jumps on you, but I’m only three, man! Give me a year at least to get it together. I can’t even count so well yet.

  I do what I do, you know? I’m a havoc-wreaker and a room-wrecker. That’s my game.

  You’ve been there and done that already. Throwing peas is snoozeville for you. I respect that. I don’t need you to come down to my level. I’m not asking you to regress, but you gotta understand, I don’t have many friends and when I do see kids my age, I get so excited it freaks them out.

  Here’s what I’m trying to say: I’m gonna be around for a long time, so like, maybe we should start figuring out how to do stuff together. You like Play-Doh, right? See? I LOVE Play-Doh. There’s one thing right there we can do together. What if, like, you made a Play-Doh pizza and I pretended to eat it and we both laughed? Is that something you’d be into? I gotta be honest here, I would probably slap the pizza while you’re making it, but don’t get frustrated and stop. It’s part of being with me.

  Maybe that can be my job in the pizza making. I can be the slapper. As soon as you think it’s done, I hit it and mess it all up and then eat it. HILARIOUS, riiiiiiiight?

  Here’s another possibility. Do you think the cats are weird? ME TOO! We can totally do weird stuff to the cats together. Have you seen me lie on top of the orange one? He doesn’t even try to move. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but he just sits there and waits for me to get off him, and I think I’m getting pretty heavy. I don’t really know how we could do that together, but maybe you could laugh while I do it instead of trying to pull me off? I know you’re trying to impress Mom and Dad and probably save the cat’s life, but we’re brothers, and that’s way more important than Mom or Dad or cats, right?

  Here are some other things we might be able to jam at together. Due to time issues, I’m just gonna list them. If any of these seem cool to you, let me know.

  1. See how long we can hold a piece of ice in our hands

  2. Play inside the car while it’s off

  3. Take all the books off the shelves in the basement and jump on them

  4. Explore the creepy laundry room

  5. Pee in the cat litter (I’ve totally been doing this when no one’s looking. It’s great.)

  Okay, I’m off to whiz. (In the toilet. Ha.)

  Love,

  Arlo

  P.S. We’re gonna do “puffy” later, right? That thing where Dad throws up the fitted sheet and we jump on it when it lands? It’s my favorite part of the day.

  THIS IS RIDICULOUS THIS IS AMAZING

  A child does not show his love through required acts of giving, but instead through the honesty of his spirit.

  —Me, making up a Deepak Chopra quote

  The Seven Stages of a Tantrum

  Tantrums don’t come out of nowhere. Actually, they do, but after they start they tend to go through seven distinct stages.

  STAGE 1: It begins with an ominous, guttural moan. It’s short and if you aren’t paying attention, you might think it’s your dog snoring.

  STAGE 2: The moan becomes louder, with fewer lows and more highs until it’s full-on shrieking. You can hear the word “want” over and over again, but the rest of the sentence is unintelligible yammering.

  STAGE 3: Generally this is where the parent steps in and tries to figure out what the child wants. This is always a mistake because the child desperately wants you to know, innately, what he wants at all times. Displaying your failure to understand his every need at every second of the day only escalates his fury.

  STAGE 4: “WANT” is now accompanied by “. . . THING!” This is a trap. Do not say, “What thing?” (see Stage 3). This isn’t something you’re capable of solving at this point (or ever). Tip: The “thing” is almost always a random piece of plastic that has no meaning to anyone but the child. Good luck finding it.

  STAGE 5: This is the peak of the tantrum and is indicated by the child flopping onto the floor. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DO NOT TOUCH THE CHILD. Do not speak to the child either. This is a good opportunity to get some cleaning done. You’re superfluous during this stage. If you do pick the chil
d up, you must replace him in the exact same spot. An easy way to do this is to line up the trail of spit and snot on the floor with the child’s nostrils and mouth. Be careful here; holding a child in this condition is like carrying a live fish around with salad tongs.

  STAGE 6: You’re over the hump. The child is breathing again. Now is an okay time to speak with him, for the demon has left his body. It’s still not safe to touch him, but soothing words—the kind that moments ago seemed to only increase his agitation—can now do some good. But under no circumstances should you reference “THAT THING” because it can cause a relapse. You must redirect the child’s attention. Suggest doing something he really enjoys, like spilling the cat’s water or changing the dishwasher from the “normal” setting to “pots and pans.”

  STAGE 7: I call this the “honeymoon.” It’s over and your child wants to cuddle. He is still heaving and having trouble talking, but the crocodile tears have all dripped off his cheeks. He’s sniffing repeatedly, but it’s only residual snot. Hug him, squeeze him, perhaps give him a cracker, and NEVER SPEAK OF IT AGAIN.

  Ridiculous Things I’ve Said

  Here are a few ridiculous things that have come out of my mouth over the course of a month as a result of having young kids.

  1. Careful, you’re getting a lot of crumbs in my hair.

  2. Stop hugging your brother and finish your hot dog.

  3. Don’t pull anyone’s skin.

  4. I’ll race you to the Band-Aids.

  5. No climbing on the mantle.

  6. Okay, then what does the Grab Monster do if he doesn’t grab anything?

  7. I wish they made cool jeans like that for adults.

  8. Keep your penis in your pants when you’re outside.

  9. We SWALLOW food in this house.