March 31, 2011

Job Opportunities

Sippy Cup: "Dad, I want to be a weather man when I grow up."

Me: "That was random.  But still awesome."

Sippy Cup: "Yeah.  And I want to shoot guns too."

Me: "Uhm, well, no, that's not cool."

Sippy Cup: "No, no, no.  I want to shoot guns at bad guys."

Me: "I thought you wanted to be a weather man?"

Sippy Cup: "I do.  And I want to shoot guns at bad guys too."

Me: "Sooooo, you want to be a crime-fighting weather man?"

Sippy Cup: "Haha!  Yeah!  Like Batman!"

Me: "I don't think Batman predicts the weather.  But, either way, I totally call the movie rights to this idea."

** Editor's Note - "Tonight's forecast?  100% chance of JUSTICE!"  It writes itself really. **

March 28, 2011

Bathroom Routine

Sippy Cup (banging at the bathroom door): "Dad!  Open up!  I've got to pee!"

Me (brushing my teeth): "Hgo hahead.  Hit's not slocked."

Sippy Cup (rushing in and dropping his shorts immediately): "Thanks Dad!"

Me (rinsing out my mouth and washing my face):
"No problem.  And a very good morning to you as well."

Sippy Cup (preparing to sit on the toilet seat): "That was a close one!"

Me (drying my face with the towel): "Uhm...what are you doing?"

Sippy Cup: "Peeing!"

Me: "Right.  But why are you sitting down?  Little boys don't sit down to pee."

Sippy Cup: "What?!  Why not?!"

Me: "I don't know why not.  You just don't."

Sippy Cup: "You're crazy.  Why would I stand up when I can sit down instead?"

Me: "Well...because...uhm..."

Sippy Cup: "When I sit down, I don't get tired.  And I don't make a mess!"

Me (sighing): "I really have no response for you."

Sippy Cup: "All finished!  Yay!  High-five! What's for breakfast?  I want chips!"

March 25, 2011

Field Report (5) : The Change

My son was born in April 2007 when I was 25 years-old. To be completely honest, I was utterly unprepared for the level of maturity and responsibility my new role as a “father” would require of me. While I was physically 25 years-old, emotionally I was roughly 16 years-old. Prior to having my son, I had never done a single load of laundry (something I had actually bragged about with pride to my herd of fellow brutes) and my culinary expertise was in preparing the most delicious bowl of cereal you have ever enjoyed (it’s all in how you pour the milk my friends).

Like most young fathers, I had the distinct impression that my world was going to irrevocably change; the previous version of me, the young, cool, well-dressed and completely unfettered bachelor would now be replaced by this slow, dim-witted, fat and terribly dressed “dad”. I had nightmares of receding hairlines and expanding midsections, of minivans and car pools, of ill-fitting jeans and hideous sweat pants. At the same time, I was equally horrified by the newer generation of “hipster dads” I saw popping up all over New York City. The kinds of dads who treated their children as if they were the latest fashionable accessory, who bought the most expensive and cumbersome strollers (“Look, it has a heated coffee cup holder/iPod charging dock and it’s also weather-resistant and bulletproof and it comes in an ironic black color pattern!”) and who named their children after Aztec gods (“His name is “Quetzalcoatl” but we just call him ‘Q’ for short”).

Today, I am 30 years old and I have the wisdom and clarity of vision afforded by hindsight. The truth is, when you have a child, your world does change. This is a statement of fact. No one can refute this. Prior to having my son, babies were just a vague “concept” to me. I knew they needed to be fed, changed, burped, and put to sleep. What I didn’t know was that these routines were not set in stone, were subject to change at the child’s sole discretion and would be completely useless at 2:30 in the morning when all you want is just 5 minutes of uninterrupted, deep, blissful sleep.

However, while your world does change, it does not have to happen in extremes. You do not suddenly have to wake up and be “Doofus Dad” wearing sweat pants as evening wear and completely disregarding your need for personal grooming; nor do you have to suddenly become “Hipster Dad”, an advocate of organic baby toys and hemp diapers. Here’s a secret few people will admit to: you can and should remain the same person you were before you had a baby. You can still enjoy football and beer and well-tailored suits and R-rated movies. You can still have a life outside of the four walls of your house. And with other people too! People who do not have to have children of their own. The trick is to find the balance, to walk the fine line between who you were before you had a baby and who you are now as a parent.

Here is an example to illustrate my point: when you have a baby, you can still go out and hang out with your former herd of brutes; however, while “hanging out until last call and sleeping off the hangover the following day” used to be the norm, you should probably be aware that your new baby does not care what you were doing the night before and will wake up for his morning feeding as per the usual custom. Here is another example: when you have a baby you can still go out and hang out with your former herd of brutes; however, while “conversations about the frequency and consistency of dirty diapers” are the norm at home, there is a very high probability that your herd of brutes is not interested in discussing this particular topic.

My point is that neither extreme is appropriate. You should never lose a sense of who you are as a person just because you are suddenly a parent. At the same time, it should be said that you should never forget that you are a parent just because you are hanging out with your friends. It is easy to get caught up in missing your former self, in remembering the fond nights of disorderly conduct encouraged by alcohol, in looking back and reminiscing about the time you and your best friend stole that huge potted plant from the hotel lobby. However, if you spend your time looking at the past, you’ll miss all of the amazing opportunities that now present themselves to you: the smile on your son’s face when you put him in a swing for the first time, the sound he makes when he is content and snoring, the discovery that waking up at 8:00 in the morning is no longer a blasphemous thought and actually means you have a longer day to enjoy in the sun. You have to find a way to walk the thin line between the two extremes and do your best, whenever applicable, to merge the two worlds.

When I was a 25 year-old brute, I was an avid fan of nice clothes, good food and great company. Now, as a 30 year-old dad, I am still an avid fan of nice clothes, good food and great company. The difference is that I have compensated for the addition of a new little brute in my herd. This little brute is developing his own taste for nice clothes (anything with a super hero on it), good food (chicken tenders and French fries) and great company (his own growing herd of fellow brutes). I bring him with me whenever I go shopping, whenever I want to go to a museum, whenever I want to just go outside for a walk. I want him to be a part of my world. I want to introduce him to all of the things I have come to love and cherish. At the end of the day, I realize that my world has changed. And it has changed for the better.

March 23, 2011

Self-Preservation (2)

** Editor's Note: Remember this guy?  Turns out he's pretty damn good at graphic design as well. 

Introducing our new logo.  I will be incorporating this into the website very soon.  Stay tuned. **

March 22, 2011


As I have mentioned, Lil Sippy Cup and I have embarked on a new daily activity: "Daddy School".

Sippy Cup has proven to be an eager and enthusiastic student and has progressed successfully through the pages of his workbooks.

In order to reinforce the lessons he learns while at "Daddy School", we incorporate educational games into our daily routines.  For example, while walking to the playground, I may ask him to point out all the objects he can find that start with the letter "S" or to count how many red cars he can see.

I was waiting to see how long it would take him before he would use his newly acquired knowledge to make me look like a fool.  It didn't take him long at all.

Sippy Cup: "Dad, the word 'Bunny Rabbit' has the letters 'R', 'T' and 'E' in it!"

Me: "Well, you got two out of three right.  The words 'Bunny Rabbit" have an 'R' and a 'T' but no 'E'. 
Good job though."

Sippy Cup: "Yes it does.  It says BUNN-EEEE."

Me: "Well, you're right, it sounds like the letter 'E' but it's actually the letter 'Y'.  It just sounds like 'E'."

Sippy Cup: "That's crazy.  It says BUNN-EEEE.  Don't you hear it?  BUNN-EEEEEEEEEEE?"

Me (grabbing a piece of paper and spelling the word out):
"No.  Look, this is how you write it. B-U-N-N-Y."

Sippy Cup: "Really?  So the toy with a string and a ball?  Is that a EE-OH EE-OH?  Noooooo!  It's a Yo-Yo.  Yuh.  Yuh.  That's the letter 'Y' sound."

Me: "Right.  I know it's confusing.  But when 'Y' is at the end of some words, it sounds like 'E'.  Do you understand?"

Sippy Cup (grabbing the paper and writing a capital E): "This is 'E'.  This is what it looks like. 
Do you understand?"

Me (sighing): "Yes.  I know.  But it ends in a 'Y'.  Just trust me. 
It sounds like 'E' but it ends in 'Y'.  Got it?"

Sippy Cup (nodding his head): "EEE-ES."

Me: "Really?  You're really going to do that?"

Sippy Cup (smiling): "EEE-EP."

March 18, 2011

Field Report (4) : The Secret

I have a terrible secret to share with you: for the better part of my life, I was a jerk. Picture in your mind every single jerk you have ever met. And then imagine that amalgamation of jerks had a mentor. I was that mentor. The kind of man who was the archetypal reference point in Greg Behrendt’s He’s Just Not That Into You. The kind of man who would have reveled in being Tucker Max’s wingman - beer and hell, here we come. The kind of man who would do anything, anything at all, just for the sake of having a great story to tell his friends.

I do not want to mislead anyone; this is not a cautionary tale nor is it a moving story of my eventual redemption. My wife has dealt with the tumultuous road of my maturing and it is reflective of the strength of our relationship and her faith in me that we are even married at all. The reason I mention this previous version of me (the “beta version” if you will) is because this shadowy figure has followed me into fatherhood and it is time that I dealt with him, once and for all.

I am the proud father of a beautiful 4 year-old little boy. He is intelligent, sincere, sweet, honest and utterly affectionate. Every single day, he amazes me with his wit, his humor, and his sense of curiosity. Like all parents, I have the highest expectations of him. And this is where the problems generally begin.

My wife feels that I expect too much of him. She has a professional background in education and a degree in Early Childhood Education and Development. By default, she knows when our son has reached age-specific milestones and when my expectations of his growth and behavior are simply beyond his age group.

I, on the other hand, don’t think that I should ever lower my expectations of him. As a stay-at-home dad, I spend nearly 10 hours alone with him every weekday and have seen how attentive, responsible and mature he can be. Whenever he is having a moment where he is not listening, when he is making the “wrong choices,” or when he is simply being a precocious toddler, she understands the underlying reasons for his behavior. To me, he is simply being bad. And I will not tolerate or excuse bad behavior simply because he’s young.

While I have always believed that my counter-argument was based on logic and empirical evidence (believe it or not, I have documented observations that he can be a well-behaved little boy), my militaristic standards for appropriate behavior for a 4 year-old are actually based on one fear. I am afraid that he will grow up to be me.

I look at my son and I see all of the amazing qualities that he has. And, yet, I want more for him; I want more from him. And now I worry that the shadow of my former self is stopping me from becoming a better father. My fear motivates all of the negative attributes that I have recognized in myself as a father. All of the times when I am impatient with him, when I don’t listen to his explanations, whenever I do not take the time to explain why his behavior is inappropriate, it is because I am terrified that, if I lower my expectations of him, then he will lower his expectations of himself. I push him, harder than anyone else in his life, because I am afraid that he will not live up to the infinite amount of potential I see in him.

As parents, we all carry what is probably an unhealthy amount of fear with us every single day. Some is justified as part of our instinctive need to protect our children. But how our fears manifest can impact our children negatively. Worrying that my son will grow up to be an unforgivable little jerk has engendered my unattainable expectations of him. For other parents, it can be the fear of their child getting hurt that prevents them from letting their child take part in certain sports. For others, it can be the fear of finally letting go of their child that prevents them from allowing their child to stay on-campus during their college years.

At the risk of sounding like a daytime talk show host, I do strongly caution parents to check their motivations when making decisions for and about their children. I have always maintained that parenting is an individual experience, shaped by the specific traits and needs of each child. Nevertheless, at the same time, as parents we do share universal emotions: joy, love, pain, pride, and (biggest of all) fear. Never let fear guide any of your decisions. And most especially when it comes to your kids. Your fears will place a stricter restriction on their potential than any lack of effort from their part ever will. In trying to do the best for them, ironically, your fear will establish boundaries for them and limit their experiences. For me, I have realized that in forcing him to listen to me and do things my way, I am only ensuring that he will grow up to be just like Daddy; in trying to make sure he would live up to his potential, I have prevented him from having the very experiences that would guarantee he would surpass my expectations.

The other night, exhausted after a day spent reprimanding my son and cleaning up after the numerous messes he had created, I prepared myself to go to bed. As is my habit, I crept into the room to check-in on him before going to sleep. The room was cold and I carefully pulled up his comforter to make sure he was warm. The door was open a bit and, as the light fell on his face, I was amazed by how angelic he looked while he slept. I gently kissed him on the forehead and realized that, no matter how much of my blood is in him, he would never grow up to be a jerk like me.

March 17, 2011

Sippy Cup J. Frog

Today was the first truly beautiful day New York City has seen in quite a long time.

Naturally, we celebrated this glorious occasion with a trip to a local playground.

While on the swing set, I noticed a strange pattern in my son's behavior.

You see, when we are all alone, Lil Sippy Cup is an incredibly mature, witty and intelligent little boy.

When he is in front of strangers, however, his behavior is a bit...different.

We are alone in the swing set.

Me: "Are you having fun?"

Sippy Cup: "Yep.  It's such a beautiful day."

Me: "It is.  We needed it."

Sippy Cup: "Yes we did.  Hey Dad, did you know that a giraffe cleans its own nose with its tongue? 
How awesome is that?"

Me: "Wow.  I'm not sure if I knew that."

Another set of parents enters the swing set.

Sippy Cup: "Yep.  I wish I could clean my nose with my tongue.  I also wish I had a tail."

Me (trying to ignore him as the other parents stare at us): "Yep."

Sippy Cup (noticing that I'm ignoring him and raising his voice): "I SAID I WISH I COULD CLEAN MY NOSE WITH MY TONGUE AND I ALSO WISH I HAD A TAIL!"

Me: "Fantastic."

Parents slowly and carefully walk away.

Sippy Cup: "Wow Dad.  Look at how tall those trees are!"

Me: "Yeah they are pretty tall."

Sippy Cup: "They don't have any leaves.  Maybe a Diplodocus ate all of the leaves? 
 Diplodocus was a herbivore so he only ate leaves and plants."

Me: "Wow, that's amazing!  Where did you learn that?  On Dino Dan?"

A new set of parents enters the swing set.

Sippy Cup: "Yeah.  James thinks we should eat some leaves too."

Me: "Uhm, I don't think that's a good idea."

Sippy Cup: "James?  Did you hear that?  Daddy said it's not such a good idea.  Yep.  I think your Daddy is right.  Leaves probably taste funny.  Haha!  James you're so funny!"

Me (talking to myself): "Perfect time to start talking to yourself kid."

Sippy Cup: "Dad, be careful, James is standing right behind you."

Parents cautiously look behind me.

Me (waving): "Hey, how you doing folks? Gorgeous day, isn't it?"

** Editor's Note: This is our 300th post.  Awesome. **

March 16, 2011

The Fever

Spring is definitely around the corner and, since Lil Sippy Cup and I have been suffering through a serious case of Cabin Fever, we went out this past Monday to celebrate the appearance of actual sunlight and decent temperatures.

As always, please follow the jump for more pictures.

March 15, 2011

The Lunch Request

Lil Sippy Cup is a big fan of Chef Boyardee lunches.

More specifically, he is a fan of the ABC's and 123's with Mini Meatballs microwaveable bowls.

As with all things, he has a very specific method of eating this particular lunch.

Sippy Cup (shouting from the dining room table): "Dad, can you help me with this?"

Me: "With what?  Your lunch?"

Sippy Cup: "Yeah."

Me: "What do you mean?  Do you want me to eat some of it?"

Sippy Cup: "No!  I want you to help me find all of the letter A's!"

Me: "Let me get this straight.  You want me to sift through your pasta bowl and find all of the letter A's?"

Sippy Cup: "Yep!  And then, after the A's, I want all of the B's."

Me: "So you want to eat your pasta in alphabetical order?"

Sippy Cup: "Does that mean like the alphabet?"

Me: "Yes."

Sippy Cup: "Then yes.  After the B's, I want the C's.  After the C's, I want all of the D's..."

March 14, 2011

A Letter to Future Sippy Cup (11)

Hey kid,

Last night, at midnight, you woke up and told me you were hungry.

I prepared us a snack of deli slices, string cheese and a small cup of juice and officially introduced you to the concept of the "Midnight Snack".

Last night, we stayed up past your bedtime and talked.  We laughed at your silly jokes.  We planned the week ahead.  It felt as if we were the only two people in the entire world.

It is precisely for these kinds of moments, the little ones that are so often replaced in our memories by the larger occasions and milestones, that I started writing on this site.

By the time you read this, you probably won't remember last night.

But I will.


March 12, 2011

Ask And You Shall Receive

Sippy Cup: "Daddy, you haven't made a cake in a long time."

Me: "You know what, my good man?  You are correct."

March 11, 2011

Field Report (3) : The Baby Shower

As you all know, the M.O.M. and I are anxiously awaiting the birth of our second child (Princess Teacup).

With this event comes the requisite baby shower, whereupon all of our family and friends gather to celebrate this joyous occasion.

When we had our first baby shower (for Lil Sippy Cup), the M.O.M. and I discovered that we had two entirely different ideas as to what constituted a "baby shower".

You see, the M.O.M. comes from a rather small nuclear family with a few extended family members (i.e. aunts, cousins, etc.) scattered around the globe.  Growing up, the majority of their family events were hosted in proper catering halls and, therefore, controlled by the anticipated rules of decorum that govern such places.

I, on the other hand, come from an enormous family.  My maternal grandmother had 10 children (my various aunts and uncles).  If you take that number and multiply it by the amount of children they each had (my numerous cousins) and then add the multitude of children they had in turn, you have a small infantry regiment.

More importantly, we are all clustered in the Northeastern part of the United States.  Growing up, all family events (from the most minimal birthday party to the more extravagant weddings) were colossal affairs.  Other than the weddings, these events were hosted in various apartments throughout the city and, therefore, any rules of decorum and accepted behavior were dictated by the governing body of adults.  The same adults who, by the end of the night, were dancing with lampshades on their heads.

The M.O.M. and I, literally, came from two different worlds.  These two worlds collided during that first baby shower. 

The M.O.M. expected that the baby shower would be a small, intimate affair; one where only the female members of our respective networks of family and friends would be invited. 

I, on the other hand, expected the baby shower to be a massive house party. 

After weeks of passive-aggressive insinuations, we agreed that neither option suited us and decided to amicably meet in the middle of the two extremes.  While (for the most part) it was a smooth co-mingling of the two groups, I am pretty sure some of our family and friends walked away from the event shocked and awed either by the sheer number of people at the party hall we had rented for the night or at the fact that we were not serving alcohol.

Now, with this second baby shower looming in the weeks to come, we are faced with the same set of decisions.  This time, however, we're prepared.

At the end of the day, a baby shower is meant to be a joyous occasion, one in which your family and friends gather to celebrate your accomplishment and to formally welcome the little-person-to-be into your shared world.  This does not mean that men cannot be invited.  Nor does it mean that serving alcohol is entirely appropriate either.  You, as the expecting parents, need to decide what works best for you

This is your day.  No one else's.  If a random aunt is upset at the fact that you have a DJ playing music, then so be it.  If a random uncle is upset that there isn't a keg to be found anywhere in the rental hall, then so be it.  It isn't their event.  It is yours

So, be happy.  Be merry.  Be proud.  Be yourself.

For our part, this is exactly what we intend to do.

March 10, 2011

The Coloring Contest

I have always believed that one of the characteristics of a good dad is how sincerely and whole-heartedly he devotes himself to playing with his children.

Not in the casual way he might play with his nieces or nephews or the children of his friends but in a no-holds barred "I am really a monster chasing you and I am going to eat you and tickle you when I catch you!"- kind of way.

I bring the same sort of intensity to my arts & crafts sessions with Sippy Cup.

We had a coloring contest this morning (I have included our masterpieces for your review).

Now I can sit here and explain how coloring is great for his imagination and helps him work on his fine-motor skills and include other educational development terms that will make me sound awesome; however, this was (first-and-foremost) a contest and I could care less about those things.  I wanted to win! 

I brought out all of the tools in my creative arsenal.  I outlined precisely.  I shaded carefully.  I incorporated some of the Renaissance techniques of Chiaroscuro.  I even included low-lights in my character's hair!  How awesome is that?!  I knew I had it in the bag.

It took Sippy Cup 10 minutes to finish his page. 

I, on the other hand, dedicated a good 45 minutes to my pièce de résistance.

And it's pretty clear he still won.

Surprisingly enough, I am perfectly ok with that.  No.  Honestly.  I am perfectly ok with that.

Now, if you'll excuse me, my son and I are going to go play some Jeopardy.

  "X-Man Projecting Eye Beam"
Mr. Cufflinks

"Scott is Awesome!"
Sippy Cup

March 8, 2011


Right now, I am watching my son run around the house, chasing after a helium balloon.

So far, he has used the balloon as:
  1. A punching bag
  2. A tail
  3. An imaginary friend
  4. A jump rope
  5. A parachute
In the living room, there are well over $200 worth of toys, games and puzzles piled in a corner.

My son has, literally, chosen to play with hot gas instead of the toys he amassed over the holidays.

And, for some odd reason, it totally makes sense.

March 7, 2011

Who You Gonna Call?

M.O.M. (clipping his fingernails): "Sit still so that I don't hurt you by mistake."

Sippy Cup: "Ok.  When you're done with mine can you cut James' fingernails?"

M.O.M.: "I would love to.  But I can't.  I can't see James."

Sippy Cup: "But he's right here next to me."

M.O.M.: "That's great baby but I still can't see him."

Sippy Cup: "Haha!  That's because he moved!  Now he's behind you!"

M.O.M.: "Oh really?"

Sippy Cup: "Yeah!  He likes to play Hide-and-Seek.  That's his favorite game!"

Me (shouting from the living room): "That's it!  I'm moving!"

March 6, 2011

Far Enough

M.O.M.: "Good morning baby!"

Sippy Cup (rubbing his eyes): "Mommy!"

M.O.M.: "You have to go brush your teeth."

Sippy Cup: "Nah, I don't think so."

M.O.M.: "Yes you do.  Your breath smells."

Sippy Cup: "You smell.  You smell like two smooooooking hotties!"

Me (from another room): "Haha!  Awesome!"

M.O.M. (sighing): "Your father needs to stop quoting Charlie Sheen around you."

March 5, 2011

Imaginary Safety

Me (strapping him into his car seat): "Alright buddy, are you comfy?"

Sippy Cup: "Yep.  Thanks Dad."

Me: "Alright, cool, we're ready to go."

Sippy Cup (putting his hand up): "Wait Dad!"

Me: "What is it?"

Sippy Cup: "What about James?  He needs to be safe too!"

Me: "Are you serious?"

Sippy Cup: "Yes!  He needs to be safe!"

Me (reaching in and buckling an imaginary seatbelt): "Ok James, you're good to go."

Sippy Cup (shaking his head and sighing): "Daaaad, don't be silly.  Do it for real!"

Me: "You want me to really buckle a seat belt back here for your invisible friend?"

Sippy Cup (reaching over and buckling the middle seat belt):
"Forget it!  I'll do it myself! There you go James.  I'm sorry.  My Dad is so crazy."

March 4, 2011

A Letter to Future Sippy Cup (10)

Hey kid,

Today, you accidentally slipped off of a dining room chair and hit your groin for the first time ever.

This is a painful but necessary rite of passage.

Even though you are barely 4 years-old, you took it like a man.

I am so proud of you.


(P.S. - even though you took it like a man, I still covered your face with kisses just because I felt like it.)

March 3, 2011

Lady Bug Pops

Me (rubbing his hair): "Nice nap little dude.  What do you want as a snack?"

Sippy Cup: "Uhm, a Lady Bug pop!"

Me: "I'm afraid to ask.  What's a 'lady bug pop'?"

Sippy Cup: "They're in the freezer!"

Me (talking to myself): "Please, please, please don't let there be any frozen bugs in the fridge."

Sippy Cup: "Come on!  We can share it!"

Me (opening the freezer carefully): "Oh thank God.  There are no 'lady bug pops' in here my friend. 
Just the fruit pops."

Sippy Cup (pointing): "No, look, there it is!"

Me (grabbing a fruit pop): "This?  This is a strawberry pop."

Sippy Cup: "A Lady Bug Pop!  Yay!"

Me (opening the fruit pop): "Clearly this is a strawberry pop."

Sippy Cup: "It's a Lady Bug Pop!"

Me (handing him the pop): "I'm pretty sure it's a strawberry pop."

Sippy Cup (pointing to the little pieces of strawberry in the ice pop):
"No it isn't!  Look!  Look at all the lady bugs in here!  It's a Lady Bug Pop!"

Me (smiling): "I guess you're right."

March 2, 2011

Sippy Cupstantine

As is our custom, Lil Sippy Cup and I were watching cartoons together earlier this afternoon.

We're both big fans of Tom and Jerry and were watching the classic episode "Heavenly Puss".

In the episode, Tom (after spending his life chasing Jerry) is denied a ticket on the "Heavenly Express" train.  If he isn't able to get Jerry to sign a certificate absolving him of his sins, Tom will be banished to hell where Spike the Bull Dog (a.k.a the Devil) awaits.

I thought this was a perfect opportunity to teach Lil Sippy Cup some lessons about morality and the importance of being a good little boy who listens to his Daddy and doesn't run around the house breaking fine china and throwing old batteries at the couch.

Of course, as you all should know by now, things didn't exactly turn out as I had planned...

Sippy Cup: "Why is the dog all red and mean and scary?"

Me: "Because he's the king of the red and mean and scary place."

Sippy Cup: "Oh."

Me: "That's the place where all bad people go.  Especially the ones who don't listen
to their mommies or daddies."

Sippy Cup: "I thought that was a jail?"

Me: "Uhm, well, this place is for the people who go to jail and still don't listen to
their mommies or daddies when they get out."

Sippy Cup: "Oh.  That place is kind of scary."

Me (nodding in agreement): "Yeah it is."

Sippy Cup: "That's ok though.  I'm not afraid."

Me: "What?  You should be!"

Sippy Cup: "But you said I shouldn't be afraid of anything.  Not of monsters.  Not of spiders.  Nothing!"

Me: "Well that's true but I al-"

Sippy Cup (interrupting and shaking his fists): "Plus I have these two weapons!"

Me: "Leave it to you to be unafraid of the ultimate prince of darkness."

Sippy Cup (chopping the air): "HIIIEEE-YAAAH!!!"

March 1, 2011

Brother James

Sippy Cup (from the bedroom): "Haha!  You're so funny!  I didn't know we could do that!"

Me (walking from the living room): "Hey little man, who are you talking to?"

Sippy Cup (opening the door to the room): "No, that's just my Dad.  You know who that is."

Me (standing at the bedroom doorway): "Seriously.  You're kind of scaring me."

Sippy Cup: "Oh, hi Dad.  I was just talking to James."

Me (looking around the room): "Fantastic.  You do know you're in here by yourself, right?"

Sippy Cup: "No I'm not.  I'm in here with my brother James."

Me (looking over my shoulder cautiously): "Oh, so he's your brother.  And where is James right now?"

Sippy Cup (pointing): "Right in front of you."

Me (backing out of the room slowly): "Ok.  I'm going to go call your mother now."

Sippy Cup (waving): "Ok, that's fine.  Bye Daddy.  James says 'bye' too!"