We’re getting snacks and sodas at AM/PM — me, my son and two of his friends. I know the girl at the register because I stop here for a soda most days on my way to work and she’s always here. “Hi,” I say to her. “These are my kids.” She looks at the kids, who are all the same age and look nothing like each other — a tall Wasian kid, a stocky Asian and an Indian boy. “Different moms,” I explain. Afterward, the group was evenly divided on whether or not she believed me . . . Read more →
EppsNet Archive: Kids
The Lunch Coupon
We’re on our way to Black Angus for a family lunch. My wife is driving . . . she pulls a huge stack of coupons out of the glove compartment and hands them to our son in the back seat. “Find the Black Angus coupon in there,” she says. After a while, he says, “Why do we have ten 20% off coupons for Bed, Bath and Beyond?” “Your job is to find the Black Angus coupon,” she says, “not to criticize people.” I say, “If you combine all those coupons, they actually wind up paying you to take the merchandise out of the store.” A while later, he says, “I can’t find a Black Angus coupon.” I say, “Let me take a look.” He hands me the coupon stack, which I look through and find it. “Pwned,” I say. “Why couldn’t you find it?” “It looks just like the Bed,… Read more →
Free Samples
I’ve got my son and one of his friends with me at Trader Joe’s. They start off by grabbing some roast beef and panini at the free sample stand. Later, when I’m in the checkout line, they wander off, I assume to go outside, but it turns out they went back for seconds on the free samples. “You guys are an embarrassment!” I say. “The free samples are supposed to be one to a customer, not all you can eat!” “I don’t think she saw us the first time,” my son says. “So it’s okay.” “Jesus, I can’t take you guys anywhere.” Read more →
Bat Out of Hell
And I ran up the stairs to my parents’ bedroom Mommy and Daddy was sleeping in the moonlight Slowly I opened the door, creeping in the shadows Right up to the foot of their bed I raised the guitar high above my head And just as I was about to bring the guitar Crashing down upon the center of the bed, My father woke up, screaming “Stop! Wait a minute! Stop it boy! What do ya think you’re doin’? That’s no way to treat an expensive musical instrument!” “God Dammit Daddy! You know I love you, But you got a hell of a lot to learn about Rock ‘n Roll” — Meat Loaf, “Wasted Youth” Read more →
Another Way Computers Are Making Life Better for Everyone
His mom took the boy’s laptop computer away because she didn’t like his attitude about something or other, and now he’s trying to involve me in a secret plan to get it back. I ask him, “Why don’t you forget about the computer and do something else tonight? Read a book or something?” He says, “I need the computer so my friends and I can talk to each other.” “Use text messages. Or a phone. There’s an idea.” “We need video.” “Video? What do you need video for?” “Don’t worry about it.” “Exactly. So you don’t really need the computer.” “‘Don’t worry about it’ doesn’t mean I don’t need it. It means don’t worry about it.” “What are you going to do? Have a biggest dick contest?” “Is that what you used to do?” “We didn’t have webcams when I was your age. We had to take ’em out and… Read more →
Christmas Cookies
My wife and son brought home some Pillsbury cookie dough sheets (see photo) but we’ve got a problem. Even though the packaging shows cookies with festive holiday shapes (“I want the ones shaped like Christmas trees,” my son says), the sheets are not pre-cut, and we don’t have cookie cutters. I say, “It looks like what you’re going to get are cookies shaped like rectangles.” Read more →
I Went Deaf on Christmas Eve
I. At home I tell my son I’m going to the urgent care walk-in clinic. “What for?” he asks. “I want to find out why I’ve gone deaf in my left ear.” “You’ve got an ear infection,” he says. “I had one when I came back from Thailand. I was also coughing 24/7 so I had to take this insane cough syrup and ear infection pills.” “I’m not coughing 24/7. I’ve got a lot of congestion though.” “You’ll just get the ear infection pills then.” “When you took them, could you feel your ear canal cracking open? Man, that’s the best! It’s almost worth it to have a clogged passage just to feel it cracking open again.” “Yeah, but it takes a couple of days.” II. At the doctor’s office The nurse takes my blood pressure. “100 over 60,” she says. “Is that good?” I ask. (I already know it’s… Read more →
Drummer Boy
My son had a drum set part in the Northwood Holiday Concert last night . . . Drum set parts are a showcase for high school percussionists because usually they stand at the back of the orchestra, the audience can’t actually see the instruments, and nobody knows what they’re doing. He told me after the concert that was the worst he’d ever played that song but it sounded great to me, maybe because I’m a parent . . . Read more →
A T-Shirt with a Gorilla on It
I took my boy to Souplantation for dinner after his hockey game. An Indian kid in the line across from us was wearing a t-shirt with a gorilla on it. “That Indian guy has a cool shirt,” my son said. “I’d rock that.” “I’d sport that,” he said. “I’d don that,” he said. “I’d . . .” “I get it. Now shut up so I can focus on my salad.” Read more →
I Didn’t Get a Pizza Square
The free sample stand at Trader Joe’s has pizza squares today. They look delicious! Unfortunately, there are only two left and just ahead of me is a woman with a toddler in her shopping cart. I’m thinking Just take one and leave one for me but no, she takes both, hands one to the toddler, who immediately drops it face down on the floor . . . Read more →
An African-American Name
My son needs an African-American name for a character he created in NFL Street. “How about Kareem of Wheat?” I suggest. He decides to go with Delondre McWreck . . . Read more →
Thinking About It
My son is stick-handling a hockey ball on the hardwood floor in the family room, when I notice a skate wrench lying on the table. I say, “Why don’t you put that skate wrench in your hockey bag?” “Okay,” he says. “Why don’t you do it now, while you’re thinking about it?” “Okay,” he says. A couple minutes later, when he’s still stick-handling and the wrench is still lying there, I say, “While you’re thinking about it, why don’t you put that skate wrench in your hockey bag?” “Okay,” he says. “That’s the third time you’ve said okay, and the wrench is still there.” “I’m still thinking about it.” Read more →
With Friends Like That . . .
Ouch! What did he do to people he didn’t like? Read more →
The Handsome Men in Our Family
We’ve got plenty of mirrors in the house, but for some reason, our son has come into our room to comb his hair in our mirror . . . “What a handsome boy!” his mom says. I say, “Like his pappy.” “He’s got me in him too,” she says. “My dad was handsome. And my uncles are very handsome. You haven’t seen them.” I can’t resist mentioning that her brother, who I have seen, is anything but handsome. “I don’t know what happened to him,” she says. Read more →
Happy Halloween
Halloween memories . . . Read more →
The Lost Art of the Hickey
One of my co-workers came to the office today with an obvious hickey between her neck and shoulder, but she thought I was juvenile for noticing it. “How old are you again?” she asked. “Old enough to remember hickeys obviously.” “Don’t you mean ‘Not too old to have forgotten hickeys’? You think young people don’t know what hickeys are?” Maybe I should have said, “Old enough to remember when hickeys were a standard element of the teenage repertoire.” But actually, I don’t think kids know what hickeys are. I haven’t even heard the word “hickey” in years. I think hickeys, like plaid pants, are a relic of a bygone era. Girls are much more forward now, if the messages in my son’s yearbooks are any indication. If girls are offering oral sex in junior high school, what are you going to say? “Can I give you a hickey first”? P.S.… Read more →
Plaid Pants
In the process of rearranging things in the house last weekend, my wife found a box of pictures of me as a boy and showed them to our son. “Dude, those were funny,” he says. “There’s one of you sitting on a motorcycle –” He makes an angry face and pantomimes driving a motorcycle. “Vroom! Vroom! And you’re wearing — ha, ha — you’re wearing a pair of –” Now he’s laughing so hard he can hardly talk, but he manages to spit out “– plaid pants!” before collapsing in a coughing, sputtering fit. I explain to him that plaid pants were popular in the 1970s. “Mom!” he yells downstairs. “Where’s that box of pictures of Dad?” “Under the desk in the den,” she yells back. “I’ve seen those pictures,” I say, “so if you’re planning to show them to me and laugh about it, you’re wasting your time.” “I’ve… Read more →
Father-Son Conversations
FATHER: Would you take out the trash please? SON: Are you KIDDING?! I’m doing homework! I’ll take out the trash if you read To Kill a Mockingbird and tell me what each chapter is about. FATHER: I’ve read To Kill a Mockingbird. You want to know what it’s about? ‘Racism is Bad.’ Now take out the garbage. SON: Mom said my dinner was going to be ready by now and she hasn’t even started cooking it yet. FATHER: You’re a big boy. Why don’t you make something yourself? SON: I’m really not happy with the service I’m receiving here. SON: So was Mom pretty horny when you first met her? FATHER: Oh Jesus . . . Read more →
Girls are a Distraction
My son’s looking forward to February when his braces come off . . . “Throw some Crest whitening strips on there and the sky’s the limit as far as girlfriends are concerned,” he says. “Girls are a distraction right now,” his mom says. “You need to focus on academics.” “Mom’s right,” I say. “Having a wife or a girlfriend is like taking a 5-year-old to the mall. You can’t go as fast as you want to because the 5-year-old can’t keep up the pace. And you’re not going to be able to accomplish the things you want to accomplish . . .” “Don’t give the boy a bad attitude,” she says. “. . . because the 5-year-old is . . .” “Whatever you’re going to say . . .” “. . . monopolizing your attention . . .” “. . . don’t say it.” “. . . with her juvenile… Read more →
PSAT Testing
I’m dropping my son off at the high school for PSAT testing this morning. We’re part of a huge, slow procession of cars moving into the school. My son’s yelling, “You people are all nerds for taking this test!” Then a note of realization: “But wait . . .” Read more →