We are NOT experiencing technical difficulties

"Hey Dad, can you help me? I got lost."

"What do you mean lost?"

"I got lost from the Bionicle video you found me. Can you help me get it again?"

"Oh, yeah sure..."

I walk over to the computer, expecting that he'd simply clicked an ad, or lost the browser. Nope. Never underestimate a kid who was using a mouse long before he knew what a crayon was.



I Get Nooooo Respect

Marcus’ Lego Star Wars General Grievous Starfighter keeps coming apart. Frustration sets in. Dad to the rescue...

Rodney.jpg “Ok Fury, see, you’re playing too rough with it. You can’t crank the cockpit like that or else it’ll keep flying apart. I’m gonna show you how this is done so you won’t need me next time. So, these four pieces fit in here... groove-side down. Then, this goes into heeere... and then this snaps heeeere... and then...”

*Slip* *Crash* *Scatter* “Argh %*#@!”

“And then DROP it, Dad?”

LA (kid) Law

Who says kids aren’t legal-minded? This son of mine keeps surprising me with amusing applications of knowledge picked up from … I have no idea where. Anyway, here are some recent gems having to do with all things law and order.

* * * *
We drove by a police roadblock the other day being manned by two slightly older officers...

Marcus: Those guys are too old!
Me: Old?
Marcus: Yeah, they probably lost all their punching power.
Me: Punching power?
Marcus: For punching bad guys. And they probably can’t aim their guns anymore either.
Me: Hmm...
Marcus: They should just quit the police team.

Any dictators out there need a Minister of the Interior in training?

* * * *
As told to d Wife by Marcus’ Kindergarten teacher:

Some kids were playing a little bit too dangerously in the schoolyard, which invited a stern warning from the teacher in the form of “kids, stop jumping around or something bad will happen!” to which my son added:

“Yeah, like a lawsuit!”

* * * *
Me: Hey! There’s a flying ant on my arm

[Marcus squishes it]

Me: Eww. Now there’s brown gunk on my arm.
Marcus: Oops, sorry, Dad.
Me: It’s not your fault. It was his brown gunk.
Marcus: No… it’s my fault because I squished him.
Me: Hey, that was man of you!
Marcus: Well... he is a flying ant. He should have just flied away actually!

* * * *
For this year’s Christmas cards, I had Marcus draw a picture of anything he wanted on each card. He had just handed me a cool picture of a dune buggy thing.

Me: This is pretty cool, Fury. What do want to title this?
Marcus: um... 4-wheeler.
Me: Done.
Marcus: Don’t forget the TM
Me: Huh?
Marcus: So no one can copy it.

(Earlier that day, we were at Starbucks and he noticed on the signs that there was a TM symbol after the word Starbucks. I explained the concept of trademarking to him.)


Caffeine breeds inquisitiveness
(it’s hot chocolate, people… don’t get all up in arms.)

A Very "What The...?" Christmas

The anticipation of Christmas from a kid’s eye view...

* * * *
Marcus: Dad? Can I get pre-Christmas presents?
Me: Pre-Christmas presents?? What?
Marcus: You know. So I can get the small toys out of the way.

Why dilute the true spirit of Christmas: opening the big ass toy.

* * * *
Marcus: Mom? Is Santa rich?
Mom: No, why?
Marcus: Then how can he afford all those toys??
Mom: He gets some made and the rest are donated.

Good comeback, Mom! I would have just said “credit.”

* * * *
Marcus: Is there such thing as green octopusses?
Mom: I don't think so...
Marcus: I believe there are green octopusses. I believe in a lot of things, like Santa.
Mom: You do?
Marcus: Yeah - even though the one who comes to our school Christmas show is just a guy with a beard.
Mom: How do you know that?
Marcus: Cuz his tummy is only this big. But Santa's is THIS big.

Kids today. So jaded.

* * * *
Marcus: I love Christmas shopping!
Me: You love it?
Marcus: Actually, I ultra-love it!
Me: Ultra love it? Why?
Marcus: Toys... He-llooo!

Geez, Dad. Get a clue. And a butt load of toys, please.

* * * *
Me: Cool Fury! What’s that?
Marcus: Santa’s spinning blades of doom!

And you thought they just got coal.

Gunnin' for that Liberal Arts Degree

Marcus started Kindergarten this fall. This meant homework and tests. Yes, tests. That’s what I get for enrolling him in a school whose primary customer base is comprised of faculty and grad students from Cal Tech.

His first test? Aced it, baby!


Perhaps he peaked too early? His second test came back with this:


Ouch a 33% drop in performance! I had a talk with him the other night about it.

“So, Fury, I saw your spelling test. So I guess you got ‘rat’ wrong, eh?”
“Yeah. What did I spell?”
“What does rad mean?”
“Really ultra cool.”
“Ooh! I like that better anyway. Spelling rat is boring. I like rad!”

Way to go son! Question everything and change the rules. I ain’t paying $10K a year for you to just sit there and rote memorize. Screw NASA, you’re gonna be president someday.


The inevitable “my kid says the funniest things” posting

I tried ... I’m sorry. In general, I try to weave stories about my son into something that reflects universal themes shared by our collective “Dad” consciousness. But less than a month in, I’ve succumbed. At least I’ve chosen just a few “best of” selections culled from 3 years of journals, random .txt files scattered on my desktop and note-to-self voice clips saved on multiple generations of peripheral devices.
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