The Peanut's school had Open House this week. Our family's first. How did it go? Let me put it this way:
They are studying the five senses this week in class. Hearing, touch, taste, smell, and spidey.
The teacher, who is very good, had a little spray canister of scent that she sprayed in to the air. Then she asked the kids what they though it was. "Candy," said Sophia. "Cake," said Gabe, "Apples," said Mia.
The teacher asked, "Peanut what about you, what do you think?"
"Pie," the Peanut said softly.
"Did you say pie?" asked the teacher. The Peanut nodded her head yes. The teacher smiled and said, "Yes, that's right, it's pie. Pumpkin pie."
She actually got that shit right. That is MY daughter. I'd like to tell you here and now that I did not stand up and start screaming, "Yeah, you like that Sophia? What about you, Gabe, ya little bitch? Taste it Mia, yeah eat it up! That is the flavor of being intellectually bested! It tastes soooo good."
I'd like to tell you that I didn't do that, but I can't. I've been banned from Open House forever.
So here we are, Day 17, more than half way through Movember and I've updated but once. I'm sorry. Not the most effective way to fight prostate cancer, I know. I had to wait until this grew in a little before I posted more pics. I do have some pride.
Especially since I contacted the AMI--that's the American Mustache Institute--about admission into their whiskery ranks. I'm still waiting to hear (fingers crossed!) but I think with my mustache's latest developments, I'm a shoe in. Plus, on the entrance exam where they ask "Why do you love your mustache?" I answered, "because it fights cancer."
In other news, my wife has been working awfully long days lately (for those of you who think teacher's hours are easy, you are wicked wrong.). Sometimes she checks this space to see what's up at home.
Honey, we love you and we miss you like crazy. We can't wait until you get home. We've all misplaced our pants.
P.S here's a pic to get your pulse raising, my darling:
Hey everyone. Sorry I've been a cruddy blogger. We've been busy. To sum up:
About a month and a half ago, we're in the car, my daughter starts this:
"Hey daddy, do we poop in our pants?"
"No! (I am sporting a firmly lecturial, anti-pants pooping tone. And demeanor. Mostly.) We do NOT poop in our pants."
"Daddy, do we poop on the floor?
"Peanut, NO we . . . wait a second? Are you laughing?"
And she was. She was cracking up. We went on to talk about whether or not one defecates on the cat(sometimes), the dog, the car, and her brother (not when he's awake.). We just laughed and laughed.
To my memory, these are some kindergarten level jokes.
Of course this comes up again and again intermittently. She starts joking about chocolate poop and eating chocolate poop cookies and pooping chocolate (which would be the best/most tragic thing ever if she could really do that). I role with all of it until she starts threatening to poop on her mother and me. I tell her she can't be joking like that. Nobody poops on my woman with the exception of both children when they were infants. I've got to draw a line somewhere. A line in the poop. Unfortunately, it's a dotted line.
Cut to this weekend.
She's in the bathroom. I go in to help her finish up.
She gleefully informs me that there is "poop and pee, all mixed up in there. It's all mixed up."
I'm tired. I forget myself. I tell her, "I know. That's what you're having for dinner."
I'm not proud. At least, I'm not until she replies:
"I'm gonna put frosting on it!"
With frosting-a-cake hand motions.
She one-upped me. The student becomes the teacher. I am fit to burst. With pride, I mean.
I ran downstairs and related the incident to my wife. She laughed out loud.
Tell me people with older kids, am I wrong in thinking this is some 1st-2nd grade level poop humor? She's like the Joan Rivers of Pre-school. "Can we talk? About poop?"
I know I should not be proud of this, but I am. My chest is puffed way out. With pride, I mean.
On to our Movember update. For those of you who are not aware, Movember is a movement in which those of us who can grow moustaches do so in hopes of raising money for prostate cancer research(You donate at my Movember page or at the DadCentric Team Page or just go to the website.).
Then those of us who have blogs post pics of our pelt-y progress. Thusly:
As you can see, it's not going well. It screams "pubescent lack of authority." Or maybe "French-Canadian douche-bag." Or Wendy's asst. manager. And despite this horrific look, I still seem to have that dumb fuck grin plastered on my goofy mug.
I will keep trying though, Because it is for a great cause.
I do have an idea for next year. I've been doing a little research. Allow me to direct you to this article from BBC News. It suggests that a highly effective method of preventing prostate cancer is frequent ejaculation. It goes on to say that the primary method recommended is masturbation due to the risk of STD's.
This is not a risk with which I need concern myself. I'm married. And she's monogamous. With me. I'm pretty sure. But still, either way it's pretty much a win win.,
So, prostate having people, coming in 20ll to a private moment near you:
I know. From the title, you're like, "Why bother? Cancer will kick a mustache's ass." And most times, you'd be correct. But not this month. This month the mustache has a chance to be a hero. For this . . is Movember.
Movember is a Movement. A Movement to raise awareness of--and money for--men's health. Specifically for the prevention of Prostate Cancer.
Grow a 'Stache and raise some cash.
Prostate cancer does not get the same press that breast cancer receives. This may well be because most people can see breasts, and many people enjoy the sight. Not so true with a prostate. Though, a healthy prostate is a beautiful thing. And now we're full circle.
Whatever the case, the original MoBros decided to try and do something about the lack of prostate press. Via mustaches.
(This is not to set up a competition between prostate and breast cancer, mind you. I'm a pretty big fan of both . . . all? . . . of the aforementioned organs. For varying reasons. And I think we all agree that cancer of the anything is not good.)
Participation in Movember requires that I shave clean and then grow a mustache for the month while posting public photos of the process. I'd love to participate. The guys over at DadCentric are already all over it.
So, without further ado, clean shaven me:
I know, I still have some stubble showing. I apologize, I have a heavy beard. It's the best I could do.
Please, check back for updated pics. I will grow a mustache of some sort, I'm almost positive. And please, DONATE at either my page or any of the participating DadCentrician's pages or just go to the website and donate directly. However you do it, my shiny new mustache will thank you. As will my shiny ol' prostate.
One last thing. For those women who can't grow a mustache--and you know who you are--you can participate either by donating (duh) or by becoming a Mo Sister. So there you go.