“Hey Dad, what the hell is this website we found containing tons of pictures of, and stories about, us? Also, you’re a jerk and we hate you.”—My children, circa some point in the not-too-distant future
Parenthood
Real-estate shaming: The newest trend in pre-adolescent douchebaggery
Take a look at this screen capture and tell me what you see:
Chances are you see the homepage of Zillow.com, a site where one can go and look up the supposed value of any given home. That’s what I used to see, too.
Now? Now I see this:
Allow me to explain.
Why, yes, children, of course we can get a dog … and by “yes” I mean “fuck no.”

Dear My Children:
I’m sorry, but you’re not going to wear me down on this one. Sometimes Daddy has to be a dick. This is one of those times.
It’s a good thing I’m so naturally crafty and handy and oh wait no I’m not
It was supposed to be so simple: take the little block of wood, cut it into a car-like shape, slap some paint on it, attach the wheels, ta-dah, done, finished, no sweat.
Of course, when it comes to me, nothing is simple … particularly a pseudo-carpentry project.
If not for The Force, Darth Vader would have totally gotten his ass kicked, because that suit? Not very practical.
OK, so here’s the story with this bullshit:
A few weeks ago, my wife and I took the kids to the comic-book store. While there, my wife, who is on the school council at our son’s elementary school, hit up the owner to help sponsor a school fundraiser by providing for the event one of the costumed characters that often appear at the store. The owner said he didn’t have anyone specific he could send, but he’d be willing to loan out the store’s $800 Darth Vader costume.
“Jon’s pretty tall,” Mr. Helpful Comic-Book Store Owner suggested. “He could wear it.”
Well, as we all know by now, no one loves to get himself into ridiculous shit more than me, so I, of course, said, “Yeah, I’ll do it.”
Another mouth to feed
I can’t believe I forgot to introduce you all to the newest member of the family! Where are my manners?
This little bundle of joy is Baby Alive Tink & Poops. No, that’s not her real name, but that is what Jayna has been calling her since, like, a year ago when she first saw the commercial. As you can probably surmise, the “Tink & Poops” part means she not only urinates—which is just so yesteryear—but she also defecates. And if there is one thing we need around here, it is a fake baby who shits herself.