- Dylan peed on his face twice in one changing, and didn’t care. Yet you pull a piece of clothing over his head, and he acts like it’s the worst day of his life. He needs to get his priorities straight.
- There is no difference between a zombie who can’t walk and my baby, except you have to replace “brains” with “milk.” The grunting noise, the rapid shaking of the head trying to find the source, and the total disregard for personal hygiene all add up to zombie. Trust me, Dylan and I should know, we’ve watched every “Waking Dead” episode together since he’s been born.
- Dylan slept 6.5 hours straight at night once. This is supposed to be the defining, amazing moment of the past six weeks. But here’s the thing, it was during my wife’s shift. I was actually asleep during that whole stretch, and didn’t get to enjoy it at all. That’s right, my wife hogged the entire thing.
- My wife works harder than I do with Dylan right now. There are many factors (boobs, she’s finally done with classes) … OK, I guess there are only two reasons why. It seems to me what she works the absolute hardest at is perfectly timing a completely full dirty diaper bag. That’s right. I’ve had to change out the last five bags. I shall await your heartfelt sympathy letters.
- My in-laws have left, so it’s just Lisa, me and Swing. I was going to write “the swing” but that doesn’t seem respectful enough to the effort Swing has been giving us. He’s part of the family now, and potentially more useful than me.
- For a second I considered getting off caffeine and alcohol when Dylan arrived. Now I realize they’ve never been so important.
- Dylan burped and blew it in my face. Respect.
- My kid is 22 inches tall and just pooped the distance of 53″. That’s like me pooping 15’6″. I’m using math as an adult!