THIS IS CAILLOU!!!

Squig and I were watching Caillou this morning. Caillou is a Canadian kid's show that teaches children that sharing is important, and teaches parents that their child is nowhere near as totally fucking annoying as he could be. Anyway, at one point I got up from the couch and used the bathroom. When I returned a few minutes later, this

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Seven

Hello. This is my son. You may remember him from such posts as Holy Shit I Had a Kid! and Holy Shit My Kid Is Autistic! Remember those posts? Remember them like it was yesterday? Yeah so anyway. He is seven years old. WHAT! THE! EFF! INEXORABLE MARCH OF TIME??!!!! * * * In the years since I last discussed

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It’s an All-Skate

Sunday afternoon I took Squig to Skate King. I need not describe the venue to anyone raised in this area, as they already have a perfect mental picture of the joint throbbing in their forebrain. (It looks pretty much exactly as you remember it by the way, minus the Tempest machine.) For the rest: SK is a roller rink which,

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Try Them And You May, I Say

H., my first cousin once removed (it took us 20 minutes and Wikipedia to figure that out), wanted to make movies over the Thanksgiving holiday. This seemed like a perfect opportunity to document my only skill: the speed reading of Green Eggs & Ham. Get the Flash Player to see this video. That's Squiggle next to me. The toddler is

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Trove

Five minutes ago I found my son's secret stash of leftover Halloween candy. What would a good parent do in this situation? Seriously, I am asking--I can't seem to figure it out. Probably because my mind is racing from all the sugar.

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Halloween Postmortem, 2010

I spent Halloween this year as I have many others: sugar-high and wide awake in bed, staring at the ceiling until 4 AM, and vowing to rid the world of the evil geniuses behind Banana Laffy Taffy. That stuff seriously needs to stop existing. The first nation to weaponize Banana Laffy Taffy will have its boot on the throat of

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Eighth Wonder

I glanced up from my laptop to find my five-year-old son standing nearby, gripping a bottle of Elmer's glue. He had removed the cap and was holding the container upside down, watching, fascinated, as the viscous white substance drooled into a ever-growing pool on the kitchen floor. "What are you doing?!" I barked. "Put that down!" He jumped, startled, and

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Due for a Refund

All being a dad takes "is a few minutes"? Man, I have been overpaying for years. I hope they credit my account for the extra--I could use that time to learn the sousaphone or something.

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