A dingo ate my baby

It was the one thing we were worried about most when we brought Dean Christopher home; Barney. For two years Barney has been our spoiled furry child and we were worried that he would view Dean as competition for our affection. My mom tried to convince us that Barney was going to pee on the baby because he wasn't fixed. Seriously, what is with women always trying to convince men that we have to get rid our dogs nuts?

Anyway, the fateful day came in which Barney finally met Dean. We had been psychologically preparing ourselves throughout the pregnancy for this moment. We watched Cesar Millan. We watched Its me or the Dog. We even asked friends who had dogs and kids. We felt that we were prepared.

My wife went through the door first while I stayed back holding him in his car seat. Barney jumped all over my wife, excited that she was finally home after being gone three days. Then I came in with the the boy in the car seat and what happened next will haunt me till my dying day.

Barn jumped on me, causing me to lose my grip on the car seat. The harness holding DC snapped and he came spilling out onto the cold tile floor, screaming like a stuck pig. My wife tried in vain to quickly scoop him up but it was too late, Barney had his mouth wrapped around the top of Dean's head and shook violently, causing a wicked gash to form on his scalp. The family was screaming as the blood pooled on the the once pristine floor. The final indignity was when Barney lifted his leg in victory and peed on the screaming writhing child.

And that was how Barney met Dean Christopher. Either that or Barney licked Dean excessively trying to grab the beanie from his head before getting bored and slightly annoyed by the new hairless pink dog and demanding me to take him out.

Whichever way it happened, we remain a nice big happy family, even though I'm still convinced that Barney is figuring out a way to eat the child, just so he can get a decent nights sleep.

Keep watching this space or Ruffis will eat this child.

One week later...

October 5, 2009, started out like any other craptastic Monday. At 5:30am I slowly dragged my sorry carcass out of bed trundled up stairs and did my usual weekday morning ritual as I got ready for work. An hour later I was at my desk clocking in to start day one of my shortened four day work week. Fifteen minutes after that I was grumbling my out of the men's room to return to work. Damn you McDonald's. Damn you.

It was about 8 o'clock when my wife called with those fateful words that would change my life forever; "Don't panic, but I think my water broke and I'm heading to the hospital right now." I hung up the phone, looked at my computer screen and thought; "Damn! He was supposed to wait until my day off on Friday." Already my son was ruining all of my best laid plans.

Twenty minutes later, I'm on the freeway, heading home to pick up my father-in-law, who was left behind because nobody wanted to leave Barney alone until he had done his morning business. I get home, let Barney out, who was sooo excited to see me home so early that he decides to take an extra long time go to the bathroom. During this time I'm calling my wife to get an update and find out that she is now feeling contractions. Finally, Barney drops a number 2 pencil, I take him home grab my father-in-law and head to the place in which I would spend the next 12 hours waiting to finally meet the little bugger that had made my wife miserable for the past 39 weeks.

The hospital was about five minutes away from sending my wife home. They couldn't find any signs that her water had broken and her contractions were not significant enough to admit her. Still, they decided to check her cervix and were surprised to find out that she was dilated 5cm. BOOM, instant admission. They tell her to strip to her birthday suit, throw on the paper robe and follow the nurse to the room where I would witness things that no man should ever see happen to his wife.

We sat bored out of our minds waiting for something to happen in that room. Sure, occasionally a nurse or midwife would come in and to talk to us in medicalese that made no sense at all to us. They would have been better of just saying "Banana, banana, banana" to us and just save us the confusion and worry. I think we also went through five shift changes, all of which seemed to start with the new nurse asking whether my wife would be having an epidural despite that it was written in big letters on the white board in the room or was already done three hours ago. Little medical fun fact: "Those who work in the medical profession are some of the worst organized people in the world and have absolutely horrible memories." Every time they came into the room it was like we were meeting them for the first time. Lucky for all of us they are quick learners.

My wife started pushing at about 8 pm, twelve hours after she had called me at work. By this point in time I was thinking maybe I could watch our usual Monday night shows while wait and flipped the TV over to watch Heroes, bummed that I didn't set my DVR to record House and the hospital didn't carry ESPN so I missed the Vikings/Packers game. I soon learned that its impossible to watch crappy sci-fi melodrama while a nurse is telling your wife to push while you're helping to push her knee towards her chest. So add Heroes, as well as Two and a Half Men to my ever growing list of shows I missed on Monday night.

I also learned that it is hard to maintain your focus and composure when you wife has everything on display, in a position that the Kama Sutra would deem as to vile, while everyone in the room is chanting "PUSH, PUSH, PUSH". Everyone that is except the mother-in-law whose heavy Filipino accent makes it sound like she was chanting "PUSS, PUSS, PUSS" and that is what greeted little Dean Christopher when he came into this world. A little Filipino lady calling her daughter, his mom, a "puss".

Tune in next time when I describe the aftermath as well as the first meeting between Barney and his new chew toy, aka Dean Christopher. Plus some pics of the little hairy monkey child. If you can't wait to see him just check my twitter feed, otherwise keep watching this space.

Holy days are here again

Wow!!! Two holy fathers for the price of one! Maybe the guy in the next story can go to the papal tumor for help in getting his prayers answered.

Now I know what God is doing when the Raiders are playing. Keep watching this space.

That boy ain't right.

While I'm happy that the Raiders were able to squeak out a win against the Chiefs today, I'm also a little sad that last Sunday saw the last new episode ever of King of the Hill. I know most people find Hank and company dull, heck its hard to compete against the Simpsons' zaniness and Family Guy's insanity, but King of the Hill was one of the most consistent shows on Fox's Sunday night line up. I don't think any other cast of cartoon characters on a prime time show have ever shown the kind of character development and growth that King of the Hill has. I know most people will say that Mike Judge's greatest creations are Beavis and Butthead or Office Space, and while I hold an affection for those two pieces of Americana, I think it will be King of the Hill that will be remembered 50 years from now.

But for now I'm left with a sadness and sense of joy at the passing of this great Sunday night institution. 13 seasons is a heck of a run and I'm glad Fox was gracious enough to give them a proper series finale, unlike the stabbing in the back that Futurama got. So here's to you Hank, Peggy, Bobby, Luann, Dale, Bill, Boomhauer, Kahn, Minh, Connie, Joseph, Nancy, John Redcorn, and the rest of a cast of characters who have helped make Sunday night one of my favorites. You will be missed.

Keep watching this space.

Best BertDay weekend ever

My actual birthday on Saturday kind of sucked until I got to go hang out with some friends over at the Brewhouse. Up until that point I pretty much did nothing except play my new Xbox game, which I purchased that day, and snack at Arby's. I hate it when my wife has to work all day and I can't hang out with her. I really am lost without her. Anyways after we left the Brewhouse, she kept asking what I wanted to do for the rest of my "BertDay" weekend. I kept saying my usual "I dunno...whatever you want.", which is my usual response to the "Whatta ya wanna do?" questions. So what does she do? Produces two tickets to Monty Python's Spamalot. So we went to the last showing last night at the Civic Center and it was AWESOME! If you're a fan of all things Python, go see Spamalot if you get the chance. By far the best musical ever written by, for, and about møøse. If your not a fan of all things Python, then screw you, go see it anyway.



You can bet I'll be humming this all season as Al Davis continues to draw breath.

Keep watching this space.

Happy Bertday to me

Keep watching this space.

Dog days of summer

I continue to be jealous of Barney. It must be great to be a dog, or at least a dog with a loving home. Your every whim is catered to, you have no responsibilities, you can even lick yourself in front of people and not care one whit what they think. The only time Barney shows any sort of shame and embarrassment is when he drops a deuce.

I'm convinced my dogs memory only goes back to right after his last poop. Every time he gets the same look of horror and shame. You can almost hear him thinking "Whats happening? What is this? Why are you looking at me? STOP LOOKING AT ME!!!", all the while he looks away in shame. Once done, it just a quick kick of the grass and his dirty shameful deed is over and forgotten.

That reminds me of one more wonderful thing about being a dog, you don't clean up after yourself. Just imagine your whole life you are basically treated to maid service. Get dirty, someone washes you. Lay down some "rope", someone with a bag on their hand whisks it away. Spill your food, forget the 5 second rule, you can finish it at your leisure or let the bipeds pick it up and replace it with fresher tastier food. You are the king of the world and everyone else is just a servant to attend to your needs and desires.

Yes sir, life is awesome for the family dog. That is until the short female biped goes and says "I think it time to chop his nuts off." Your wonderful little family member who gives you so much love, joy, and attention in life, just sits there staring up at the little woman; and you're sure you can almost hear him think "Bitch". Keep watching this space.