Babydaddy Tips From Nacho Friendly

One thing kids like to be is fooled. I remember, once, I told my nephew I was taking him to Disney world, but I really took him to a burned down old warehouse. "Oh no," I said, "Disneyworld has burned down." He cried and cried, but I think that deep down, he thought it was a pretty good joke. Then I started to take him to the real Disneyworld, but it was dark, so I went home.

Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey


On the news that the ante has been upped (hey Giselle, what's Brazilian for "revenge eff"?), I figured I'd dole out some solid parenting advice.

I'll be the first to admit I shouldn't be having any babies for a long, long, long, long, long time, but that doesn't mean I'm not prepping for that special day. Y'see, I can't wait to really screw with the lil buggers.




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Tonight reminded me of an idea me and a couple guys came up with. Let me set the scene:

As I approach my gate at Reagan National a spritely young girl walked in front of me with haste. She was trailing a heavily-drugged pitbull that looked like this:




Anyway, it turns out she's sitting in the seat in front of me. The dog doesn't make a sound the entire five-hour trip from DC to Salt Lake (sat on the runway waiting to be de-iced, much to the dismay and worry of the first-time-flyers next to me). I missed my flight to Long Beach in SLC, but they had room for me on a flight headed to LAX. Lo and behold one row up and across the aisle, up against the window is this drugged up dog. The other folks in her row were a mother and her brood, an infant baby and a boy toddler. The dog had barked once or twice, but after take off hadn't said a peep. Everything was kosher during the Laverne & Shirley episode (oh Garry Marshall you genius! God owes you.) About a half-hour before we land I've got the ol' iPod on, and I hear this wailing pierce through my Cock Lorge so, I'm all like WHAT THE???

Turns out the toddler was in some sort of pain, but every time the mother asked him where he hurt, the grotty little wanker said, "I DONNNNNNNN'T KNOOOOOOOOOOOOW." This went on, nonstop for sometime, even as we waited on the tarmac to park. The wailing, it was ceaseless.

And here's where the parenting tip comes in: When I'm a parent, I'm gonna save a number in my cell phone that says "SANTA" and I'll have it be some friend, a friend who'll I'll have previously agreed to ONLY call in these situations. Lil feller starts acting up in a confined space like an airplane, I'll calmly extract my cell, flip it open and ring up "Santa". I'll look at the bastard and say, "Yes hello, Santa. Hi it's Duke's dad (what? Are you gonna eff with Duke Friendly in third grade? Hell no. That kid's covered, at least through elementary school.) Oh yeah, no problem I can hold..." this is key, this is when you look at him and say, "they've got me on hold. Said he'll back in about two minutes. You think you can be a good boy in two minutes?" Just watch as he clams up nice and quiet-like. Sure, the first time or two he'll wanna talk to Santa, but that's where the friend comes in. You just tell "Santa" what the kid did; if the kid wants to talk, let him, and Santa will know to say, "That's one toy off your list this year."

Oh man, that's one I can use year-round! I'm gonna make a great father.



...ladies.