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Cosmo Kramer had an intern for Kramerica Industries. Why can’t I have one? I don’t have enough time in my day to get everything done. I don’t want to pay a maid but maybe I should. I really don’t want to pay someone to mow the yard. I like to work in the yard. With the exception of going to the store alone that is the only time I get some peace, although not quiet peace since the lawnmower, weedeater, or blower is roaring at me the entire time. The sound of a 4.5 HP engine with the smell of gasoline, oil, and freshly cut grass tend to drown out the activity in my constantly buzzing brain – especially after a long (okay, short) winter of no yard work at all. I love springtime.

So why can’t a stay at home/work at home dad have an intern? I could be two months ahead on writing this column if I had an intern. There has to be a college class on family studies or something where I could find a pimple faced, laptop-carrying undergrad with no girlfriend that needs somebody to hang out with. We could work on my Web site, tweak my blogs and MySpace page, and break up scuffles between the toddler and one-year old! What fun! And when a “code brown” occurs I can teach him how to handle a baby that INSISTS on helping me wipe her bottom with her bare hand when the diaper comes off. There would be lessons an intern would never learn from a college professor.

1980

Boy this is going to be fun! We get a whole week off from school with no homework! I can’t wait to play at the creek all day, watch TV, eat a bunch of junk, and drive my parents crazy!

1985

What a blast this will be going to church camp again for Spring Break! I’ll get a whole week of seeing my friends that I haven’t seen in a year! I wonder if that cute girl Madeline will be there. I think we could really spend the rest of our lives together. She knows how much of a dork I am and doesn’t care! I hope she likes this poem I wrote for her. I’m so glad I don’t have braces this year. Maybe we can make out.

Many years ago I was a boy named Jamie. This story is about my life and the things that happened along the way. One day I would be a father and begin to enjoy the lives of my children unfold before me. The names in this story have been changed to protect the innocent – or the guilty.

The Journey to Dada

The days of becoming a father were never a thought in my little head. I was more interested in finding new ways to make my Hot Wheels cars fly farther off the ramp I constructed from pillows and flattened out boxes. Could I jump them across the room and land just short of the windowsill? Cracking a pane of glass would surely get me grounded and put a dent in my allowance. Taking this game out into the backyard would be a wise decision. My piggy bank was still recovering from the time a baseball veered off its course and landed on the hood of the neighbor’s classic 1957 white Ford Thunderbird convertible. A car cover protected the parade-driven automobile and the baseball didn’t do any damage - mostly thanks to the garage window that slowed it down upon entry.

In most relationships, couples tend to disagree from time to time. This is certainly true at our house. My wife and I sometimes bicker over little things like how to fold a shirt correctly or the fact that I don’t fold my boxers or socks at all. Every now and then we will butt heads on which radio station to listen to when we are in the car. I keep telling her that the driver should get to pick and she always responds with a laugh. She laughs at me, not with me.

We also don’t always agree on bigger issues like politics. She is a registered Democrat and I am not registered with any party. I do not fully agree with the platforms of any party so I do not see the point in totally supporting them with a straight ticket vote. We have come to terms with the fact that we will not always see eye-to-eye on this and have agreed to disagree - even if we think the other is crazy.

I broke my toe again today.
The little piggy that cries “wee wee wee” all the way
Home. That’s where I kicked your car
Or truck. Who knows? But I kicked it far.
I yelled out, “Dammit!” But no one heard.
Thank goodness, since we tell you not to use that word.
And you know because you tell me so
Every time you hear a word that’s even close.

Children have a way of taking over the world we live in. For example, six years ago when we looked at the house we currently own, my wife was excited about the idea of relaxing in the large garden tub in the master bathroom. I don’t think she ever imagined it would turn into a monster truck water park racetrack.

We also never envisioned our child would be the one to punch, kick, and scream at the doctor’s office. I think he was honing his battle skills for future entanglements. When he was about fifteen months old he decided that it was time to turn the doctor’s office into a WWF match. He had been poked and prodded long enough and it was time to fight back! The nurse would come at him with the ear thermometer and if she were not holding on tight he would smack it right out of her hand. After my wife and I would hold his arms and legs while the doctor and nurses did the examinations and shots – without wearing armor, helmets, or earplugs mind you – he would refuse the Spiderman or Batman sticker with a fiery, “NO! I don’t want a sticker!”

For years I went without getting a flu shot. My uncle is a doctor and gives them out at Thanksgiving every year to the family. I never got mine because I’m not a big fan of needles. I would have made a terrible heroin junkie. I’m also not totally on board with the idea that they do any good - at least for people in my age and health bracket. During the 1990’s, I was working in bars and restaurants (probably getting the flu there) and getting a flu shot was not a top priority. If you swill enough Jaegermeister during flu season it will kill any bug in your system! You might wake up in the morning feeling like you have the flu, but realize it was just the over consumption of alcohol the night before.

Some years I got sick and some years I didn’t. The shot doesn’t even guarantee that it will stop the correct strain of the virus anyway. And if it is the right strain it may just lessen the effects of the bug. It sounds to me like you pay somebody to stick you in the arm for nothing. You have better odds at the roulette table in Vegas.

The gang got together last weekend for Friends' Thanksgiving and we totally outdid the last party at The Backyardigans house. Friends' Thanksgiving is an annual get-together that happens on the Saturday after Thanksgiving Day when most of us are back in town from visiting family. This time we all met Curious George and The Man in the Yellow Hat out at their house in the country. The Magic School Bus picked us up in front of Big Bird's nest on Sesame Street. Big Bird had a keg so we loaded it up for the ride out there. Everybody brought a tent and sleeping bags and we partied until dawn! Some of us were wishing Madame Blueberry had not made those blueberry Jell-O shots.

When we all arrived, Bob the Builder and his new addition to the team, Scrambler went out to collect wood for the bonfire. Farmer Pickles joined them in Scoop so they would only have to make one trip. Handy Manny was standing around shuffling his feet hoping they would ask him to go, too. He sometimes feels overshadowed by Bob, but knows he is just as good at fixing things. I think he also has a crush on Wendy. Bob saw him looking around for something to do so he asked him to come. What a good friend!

Today is a day when most people travel to spend time with their families, eat lots of food, drink lots of beer or wine, watch football, eat more food, drink more, pass out for a little nap, then wake up and start all over again. Thanksgiving is a day when carnivores eat a big fat juicy bird, vegetarians eat a tofurkey, and picky eater children get peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. That was me when I was a kid. Here is a little poem for you to share with your family today. Don't worry, it's okay to read this one out loud in front of the kids.