I know, I know, I know. I KNOW! I keep saying that I am back, and then I disappear. I apologize. Shit has been crazy and I have not managed well. In fact, I developed a nasty little addiction. Not drugs, per se, but caffeine. I got to a point that I was drinking coffee throughout the day and night.
At one point, I was drinking liquor and NyQuil to take the edge off and sleep. I had enough caffeine in my system to rival a small cocaine addiction. It wasn't full-blown coke, but maybe diet coke? All I know is that I am coming down and can't tell if I need to sleep or rip my skin off.
In other news, I am still a father!! And what's more, I have had some new experiences as a father! One experience is that my son is officially "behind" in his communication development. If you compare my son to other kids his age (20-ish months), he is incredibly behind. There is a girl in his pre-school class, Jenny, who is only two months older. Jenny can talk and listen and all that shit.
As a side note, my son was crying once when I got him from school. I don't know why he was upset, but I saw Jenny walk over to him, pat him on the shoulder, and say, "There, there." In that moment, my heart broke and I realized that she would be my future daughter-in-law. It was adorable.
But I digress. My son is technically behind in speech. My son is also learning English, Chinese, Hebrew, Yiddish, Spanish, and Russian. I think he should get a pass for not speaking much. At the same time, my son has said words like glove, lamb, okay, whisper, hazard, yellow,
wei,
wen ci ji qi ren, mama, baba, hot, etc. This has led me to the conclusion that my son is perfectly capable of talking -- he just doesn't want to.
I fully believe that, when we ask questions, my son refuses to talk. "What is this?" Nothing. "Can you say ____?" Nothing. "What do you want?" Nothing. As soon as we leave the room, my son starts talking (in Barack Obama's voice), "Four score and seven years ago, I had a dream. A dream in which all people -- large and small, short and tall, old and young, of every race or faith or orientation or identity -- could watch as much Story-Bots as their heart desires WITHOUT the tyranny of a nap or bedtime."
And why is it in Obama's voice? Because goddamn could that man talk well. And goddamn do I miss that man as president. He may have had his flaws, but holy shit. At least Obama wasn't openly laughed at and fucked with at international summits. And if you are reading this and don't like the political commentary then fuck off, yeah? If Trump does something worth praise, I will. Until then, fucks for him.
But that is not the reason for this post. The reason for this post is that my son has lost his innocence. And what's more, he doesn't even know.
But how can that be? After all, he's a baby. And I'm not in jail. WHAAAAAA?!
Let me explain. We had family friends visit for the start of Chanukah. We LOVE these friends. At the same time, they have a dog. In fact, they have a little boy dog. Fortunately, that little boy dog was neutered; we figured everything would be fine.
We were wrong. As it turns out, that dog has never been around a bunch of people. It also turns out that the little boy dog has never been around another dog. This is problematic, when the little boy dog and the family friends were staying with my folks and their dog.
Nobody knew it, but it turns out that the little boy dog has an anxiety disorder. How did we find out? Because he started humping. Everything. My mom was wearing socks, until the little boy dog humped a sock off her foot. I was setting up the menorah to light candles, when I noticed my right leg getting scratched.
Of course, these were not the initial cases of the little boy dog humping. No, that would have been tolerable. The initial humping incident occurred when my son was crawling on his belly, reaching for a block. I looked down, and saw the little boy dog humping the shit out of my son's ribs. My son, blissfully unaware, was reaching for the block. I reacted calmly by yelling, "FUCK OFF TOBY!"
Of course, the family friends were shocked and embarrassed. They grabbed the little boy dog and held him for the rest of the day. Not well enough to keep the little boy dog from humping everyone else in the family, but enough to keep the dog from FUCKING MY SON! For my part, I did not fucking murder the dog. That is how much I care for these friends. I did not kill the dog that humped my son. My mother left the room so that she could react in private. And the family prayed that everything would just magically be "okay".
Well I have news for you Karen, IT IS NOT OKAY!!!! Your little boy dog HUMPED MY SON!!!! He is not even TWO YEARS OLD!!!! WHAT THE SHIT, KAREN?! WHAT. THE. SHIT.
Moral of the Story: I am still nursing a caffeine addiction, and my son has a dream. I, too, have a dream; in it, I do not witness my son losing his virginity to a dog.
