About The Funk...

Observational Spittle from the mind of a man of color in his 40s, without the color added (most times). Come in, laugh, and you may learn something...

90 Things That Irritate The Sh** Out Of Me Trailer

Monday, July 2, 2012


I've been a parent for a little more than 10 years now.   While I know a lot of folks have me whipped on experience (including having grandkids, for goodness sake), I, at least, would like to share what I have learned about myself as a parents, as well as apologize to my parents, because now I know why they look like they do.

1.  To the shock of no one, I have discovered that kids have no sense.  Since becoming a parent,  I have used the words "stupid" "dumbass", "jackwagon", as well as other colorful metaphors.  However, when I ask my child why did he wait so long to go to the bathroom, and his reply was "I was in the middle of destroying some world filled with other loser children who will grow up building girl robots" does not console me as I am scraping out body waste from the back of the commode.  Also doesn't help when the youngest keeps slapping himself, then wonders why it h hurts.  (Note, having DS doesn't exclude you from figuring out that pain is a bitch).

2.  Kids can be quite, quite, quite funny...sometimes intentionally so.  Today, my oldest actually was quite witty, cracking me up in ways I didn't know he had in him.  If he can hone that, his good looks and wit will mean...grandchildren earlier than I would of liked, despite the gray hairs that keep popping up on my chest (similar to the weeds in my hacked up yard that won't go away like those bike riding Mormons on a nice Saturday).

3.  I don't have patience for this job.  While I know this is a massive problem (see statement # 1), the males in my family who happen to b fathers simply don't have it in the DNA (note, my brother, Emmanuel, who seems to be super friggin' dad, seems to be the exception; , My youngest sib, DeWayne (who actually realized he didn't have the patience gene, and avoided parenthood completely...smart man, that one) to deal with smaller versions of ourselves.  Yet, we keep making more...like Doritos.

4.  When they actually have the dumbass switch set to "off", kids are actually pretty cool...well, until the time where, as I have boys, the other head begins its hostile takeover, ruling them, like it has all men, for the rest of their natural lives.  In Cold Stone Creamery earlier this evening, and these teens, maybe 15, boys all buff and shit, girlfriends with their little "growth spots" on their chests hanging out, ripping their parents to shreds.  Personally, when ur private parts haven't even been around long enough to have that good funk yet, u should learn to listen b4 u talk all that bullshit. (note, we r all guilty, but well, as I said, see point # 1).

5.  My oldest once told me that he hated me....think he was about 4 or 5.  It hurt me so much, I cried.  I spent (and still do, to a point) too much time trying to be the "dad" as well as the "friend", since I didn't have that in my own relationship with my pops.  Then I realized something...hey, until this boy gets a job, I own his ass. (Note, until I get a job, my wife owns my ass, but that's another story).   Recently @ a family gathering, I was ripped a new one for being a bad dad.  That also hurt me badly as well.  But, considering what I saw the other night in the restaurant (mom basically treating her child like shit on the bottom of a shoe...after it got hard and dry), in hindsight, me being rough on the boy is one thing, but I still treat him as a human being.

Until my size 12 has to see if his back orifice needs a visit.

6.  Taking away ass whippings was the biggest mistake in history.  For those folks my age, u FEARED ur folks when u f'd up.  Hell, I finally started cursing in front of my mother....IN MY 40'S.  And my mom is 5 foot 3...if she wears her sneakers.  Ask me one day about the restaurant story, and how I almost got arrested...after my 3 year old (Jared) at the time clocked me in the face...over fish in a tank.  In a Chinese Restaurant.  Should of told his ass they were going to cook the sons of bitches just to make him cry.

7.  Finally (as that I am actually getting tired, and the little one will be waking us all up in about 5 hours), I have a friend who happens to be a pastor named Erik.  Wonderful guy, and is the one who told me to get off my ass and try to get people to read my stuff.  Great family...I call them the Latino Brady Bunch.  Visited w/them a few years back, and the kids were respectful, nice, seemed to enjoy their parents company, blah blah blah.  Now I am not stupid (despite the Facebook general opinion), and I am sure his kids have pissed him off many a time.  But, he and his lovely wife got my respect...cuz, when it was all said and done, they raised their kids right.  TBFFKATGWCMOOFBBIHNRTSOTWOSAIIKIA (The best friend formally known as the guy who cut me off of Facebook because I had no right to speak on the wrongs of society as if I knew it all...whew, that was long) also is an excellent father, and his kids I know will grow up to be fine human beings.  The biggest thing I have tried to accept is this.  I am going to screw this up a lot of times.  But, if I do what I feel is right, and my wife does the same, working as a team, we may make it, and John Walsh won't be looking for either of our sons.

So in short, I'll continue to share my parenthood experiences, because, as my friend Cathy (one of the coolest ass women I've ever met, period) noticed, I write when I need to get me thoughts out.  Also, if I can make those who have raised their kids already (and their kids have kids) chuckle at my and my wife's misfortunes, that's all right.  I have received some fantastic advice from "veteran parents", and for that, I am quite grateful.  But in the end, speaking for myself as a dad, I can go to sleep (most nights) knowing that compared to some of the folks my wife tells me about every weekend, I should b getting the "Doesn't suck as much as he thought" award in the mail real soon.

OK, I'm going to bed.  I know that soon enough, either one of my children will do something that will make me go back to point # 1, and I will then yell at my loins, knowing that they were only doing as I told them to do.

But just as I expect to be frustrated, I look forward to being pleasantly surprised as well...like when a 10-year-old kid makes his dad who is approaching his mid 40's laugh for an hour over a lunch of chicken wings.

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