Unbeknownst to him, Pete sired a son several years ago. He thought he beknownst that this was impossible without engaging in sexy sex with a lady, but he beknownst nothing. After a multi-city tour informing high school students about the dangers of not having sex being about the same as having sex, he came back home to raise his son, Dum-Dum, and has started a Daddy Blog about his experiences.
Hey everyone out there in dad blog land.
Man Sunday nights are the worst. It was a really busy day. I didn’t cook anything or make anything or clean up around the house. But I saw that many of you did. I guess this is what we’re doing now, updating people on the little bullshit we did today. But really, isn’t hearing that I DIDN’T do any of that equally engaging?
Anyway, I did have a whole THING today. That’s what being a dad is, really, just what THING is going to be next Is it going to be giga pets? Or all of a sudden my son DumDum wants to eat nothing but clementines and having nothing but diarrhea? Or it could even be the Thing from Fantastic Four breaking through the wall and destroying my sconces. That one is pretty unlikely and turned out to be a hallucination brought on by an experiment where I tried to see if TV could provide nutrition. I would say the results were inconclusive.
Today’s thing was DumDum asking for a Power Wheels.
Many of you may not know this, but I actually had a Power Wheels as a kid. It was a birthday gift. Well, sort of a birthday gift. Having a bad dad who forgets your birthday eats ballsack UNLESS that dad has money. Then it’s great. It’s way better. Because he has to make up for the not remembering with money, so you get a Power Wheels Jeep. See also: Moon Boots.
Power Wheels turn out to be not so great, and that whole bad dad thing catches up really fast because he doesn’t realize that you just aged out of the outer boundary for age limits on these things. So you’re too heavy and the things run out of battery before the end of the block.
I said, Not for my DumDum. We’re going to spend the money now and worry about continuing the bad parenting later.
We got one from Toys R Us. First Question: Did you know that’s still a place? Second Question: Did you know they have a giraffe mascot with the same name as the butler from Fresh Prince. Third Question: Did you know there’s also a Babies R Us, but that it’s ALL CLOTHES? That place is wholesale bullshit. They try to trick you by using the same font. Don’t be fooled. The way to tell, besides just paying attention, is by the people you see going in there. If you see a mom or dad with what appears to be a homemade haircut going inside, you turn right around and get the fuck out of there.
When we got the thing home, it was not the camouflage jeep we thought it was, the one that would hopefully prepare DumDum to leave home at 17 to join the army. That way I could fight people in bars all the time because I could just shout, You don’t support the troops!? My son, my precious sexy boy is in goddamn [Arabic country du jour] right now! Then I would just start whirling and punching.
The jeep was the barbie jeep. DumDum was upset, but I taught him how to deal with adversity by yelling at him a lot and saying if he didn’t get in there I was going to kill myself.
He drove it to the end of the block, and just like I remembered, the thing crapped out. However, now PETE was the adult. I drove my car down to the end of the block and hooked up the jumper cables.
I said, Alright, DumDum, when I tell you, you hit it!
He said something about being scared and I told him that if he was scared he could cover his eyes with his forearm. Which was really a good thing because that Power Wheels battery fucking EX Ploded. There was acid everywhere. It was like that part from Aliens where the aliens kill the one alien so its acid blood eats through the floor and they can access some other part of the building. Except it was a barbie jeep melting instead of a spaceship or whatever.
I don’t know how DumDum even made it out alive, frankly. I will have to review the video later.
Anyway, he was pretty pissed off. And so was I. He wanted another Power Wheels. Part of why he was so pissed off might have been because I laughed when he said that and I said No Fucking Way in Hell You Homo.
But I wanted to be a good dad, so here’s what I decided.
Mobility Scooter.
It was the perfect solution. Lasts way longer, you can load that shit right on the bus, and it would allow him to live as an obese man with total impunity. It’s the perfect lifestyle for a small boy.
I bought him one, and then I painted a flame and a skull on the side. On the other side? Eagle holding a guitar, and instead of an eagle head you see the eagle’s skull. It was badass. Bad. Ass.
Also, the painting thing was kind of necessary because it was one of the shopping scooters from Target. So it needed to be disguised a little bit.
DumDum was really closed minded about it. But it wasn’t long before he was whipping around the mall like a pro. And picking up ladies. Or at least the same number of ladies he was picking up before, which was none.
I tried to use him to pick up chicks too. You know, the whole, Check out my crippled kid, it’s really hard being a single dad, I help him with his homework, it’s hard to do all this when my testes are full of semen. That whole thing. Didn’t get much out of that. All the chicks here at the mall are lame.
Anyway, I’m proud to say that we managed to convert an old Tide container, the kind that is industrial style, into a Mountain Dew container for DumDum, and he’s put on 68 elll-bees in the last two weeks. The acne? Stunning.
So, another successful day with DumDum.
Well, I gotta go tuck him in, by which I mean wrap him in a poncho while he’s sitting on his scooter and then turn the TV up to full volume. He says the deafening noise helps him sleep and get smarter. What a great little guy 🙂