One of my early ideas for this blog was proposing ideas for semi-serious kids products. In one widely ignored post, I offered the Poop Snoop for detecting dirty diapers. I think even my mom didn’t read it.
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My son is suddenly smitten by the Easter Bunny. Fox has been making weekly pilgrimages to the mall, where to his utter amazement a six-foot fluffy bunny offers redemption, resurrection, and a seated photo-op.
Oh man. Like a lot of parents, I have some ambivalence about letting my son play with toy guns. Are they a stepping-stone on the path to trigger-happy sadism? Or do they offer teachable moments about informed citizenship?
Oh man. If I have to accompany my son to one more “class” at Gymboree, they may give me a time out. Turns out I’m terrible at faking participation in inane activities.
Oh man. Bathing a baby was wondrously uncomplicated a generation ago. You washed their hair with Johnson & Johnson’s baby shampoo. The “no more tears” claim was reassuring, if a bit suspect. But at least it stung less than, say, Prell.
Oh man. My toddler son is dabbling in entomology. Also ichthyology. And if you’ll indulge me, he’s quite the budding primatologist. Normally I’m quick to take credit for any and all of our son’s cognitive flourishes. (Did you hear him say “stethoscope”? I taught him that.)
You know how child-free adults are always looking for a loaner-kid to take to the latest Pixar movie?… like, as a beard? Well two kids books just came out that offer a similar (if more cerebral) vicarious satisfaction.
The One Step Ahead catalog came in the mail. I’d never heard of it. But apparently having a baby triggers a major demographic shift in the eyes of bulk mailers. I used to find my mailbox inundated with The Sharper Image and Victoria’s Secret catalogs. Now it’s freakin fliers from Buy Buy Baby and cord […]
Oh man. It seems most of my kid’s toys have evolved defense mechanisms to inflict maximum pain when stepped on. They employ the injurious principle of either a) the banana peel, or b) Punji spikes.
Oh man. Our son’s latest obsession is himself. Every morning he demands we watch baby videos on the computer. I dutifully play all of the loose clips, but the footage is very raw and lacking narrative. It’s worse than Sundance.
- “They Call Me Mr. Tibbs” November 11, 2011
- The Panda Mom’s Manifesto January 6, 2012
- Due Dads March 2, 2012
- Please Be Kind And Rewind May 11, 2012
- Dog Days July 6, 2012
- My Son No Longer Sucks July 9, 2013
- Scout’s Honor? June 13, 2013
- Postcards From The Hedge April 18, 2013
- Pop Quiz April 12, 2013
- The Joke’s On Me March 29, 2013
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