INT. - DERBY DOLL TRACK, MEN'S ROOM

NIBLET and DADA are here, washing off Niblet's finger from a minor injury. A friend of the Derby Dolls enters (pretty sure it was Bitchy Kitten but for now let's just call him, um, BK.) BK strips off his shirt and starts washing a minor injury on his back.

NIBLET
Why are you doing that... Calvin?

BK
Um... I'm just washing off. What's your name?

NIBLET
My name is Niblet, Calvin.

DADA
Buddy, um, his name isn't Calvin... even though it says so on his underwear.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "I *know* where they got this joke, they got it in Back To The Future. And truly, I cannot deny that something like this happened in Back To The Future.

But also, I swear upon all that is holy that my kid assumed that the dude's name was Calvin.

Funnily enough, after I regained my composure enough to ask the dude if he knew why I'd nearly fallen on the floor laughing, I was like "dude, haven't you seen Back To The Future" he said "no, well, maybe, but a long time ago." So, hey. But oh man. I explained that something just like that had happened in the movie, and he nodded and smiled and thought me and my child were insane. Ah well. Luckily, when I explained what had happened to my wife, she nearly fell off her feet, which explains why we're married.

Kids who play video games don't get any exercise? (Sorry it's sideways. Crappy camera phone video recorder, and I don't have any video editing software.)

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
NIBLET has woken up crying because his knee hurts. DADA lays down in bed next to him to give what comfort he can.


DADA
I know, buddy. It's growing pains. You're going to grow up big and tall.

NIBLET
Will my body break into pieces?

DADA
No, bud. Your body knows what it's doing.

NIBLET
How does my body know?

DADA
Um.... well, your body knows. You know how when your run fast your heart beats fast? You didn't tell it to, it just knows to do that.

NIBLET
Well, my body also knows that it will die.

DADA
Um.... yeah, I guess so.

NIBLET
When you grow up and get old old old, will you die like Grammy?

DADA
Well... yes. Yes, I will. I don't know when, and I hope it will be a long time from now, but yes, I will die some day.

NIBLET
I hope it is a long long long long loooooong time, Dada, because I love you.

DADA
(choking back tears)
I love you too, Niblet. I love you so much.


If he wants me to live longer he needs to be a bit less sweet, because he came damn close to killing me with this conversation. Seriously, this is the sort of conversation that happens in books, not real life, but I kid you not, this is what was said.

(Of course, after this we then moved on to talking about how when he grew up he would get to play video games whenever he wanted, and that he would be really good at them, and also that he would actually be Indiana Jones, so hey, it wasn't all sweetness.)

NIBLET is having some friends over. He is very excited because he loves him some PATTY HERON and PIGPEN HERON (not their real last name). He is so excited that he is bouncing off the freaking walls for an entire freaking hour before they show up. MAMA and DADA are here and on their last nerve due to aforementioned bouncing and pounding and yelling and etc.

Dinner is served to various children.

Niblet largely cannot be concentrated upon his dinner for more than two seconds, and then is sent to his room for a gross infraction of the rules, the second time this evening. When Niblet is released from his room, the following conversation with DADDY ensues:

DADDY
Niblet. Do you know why you were sent to your room?

NIBLET
Because I was whining!

Niblet immediately tries to run off to play with his pals. Daddy real quick grabs him. (We daddies, we've got the kid radar and know what's up with the kids.)

DADDY
No, that was about an hour ago. Why were you sent to your room THIS time?

NIBLET
Ummmmmmm.. I don't know!

Niblet begins to make his escape again, and is stymied once more by a firm grip on the right bicep by Daddy.

DADDY
You don't really care about a single thing I'm saying here, do you? It's just a bunch of blah blah blah until you can go play with your friends, isn't it? Do you even care about a single damned thing I am saying? HUH?

NIBLET
I'm four years old!

Which, indeed, he is. And so, we see that the child has learned things, mostly about calling Daddy on his shit when Daddy is getting pissy and snarky. Precocious little bastard that he is. (For the record, though his outburst did lighten me up a bit, I still made the punishment stick.)

A conversation which happened later with Ms. Heron, aged five:

PATTY
My mom told me about a place where they massage your BOOBS!

MR. DOGOFTHEFUTURE
They do? Who is "they?"

PATTY
Yeah! And then I think they massage your *vagina!*

MR. DOGOFTHEFUTURE
Whaaat? Um... they do what now? Wait, hold on here. Who is "they?" and what are they massaging? Why are they massaging it? What the heck are you talking about?

PATTY
The people! They massaged her boobs! And then they massaged her...

Patty points at her crotch, apparently interpreting my discomfort to mean that I was worried about hearing the word "vagina," which really couldn't have been farther from the truth.

Eventually it's all hashed out: Patty heard a story her mom told about some crazy mud-bath-and-mineral-water spa where they didn't exactly massage the boobs, but they didn't avoid them either.

Much after all of that, Daddy/Mr. Dogofthefuture is sitting on the couch. Pigpen is happily playing with a car toy nearby. Suddenly Pigpen leaps up and pounds his way to the couch with some extremely important information!

PIGPEN
DOGOFTHEFUTUWE! DOGOFTHEFUTUWE! Dawth Vadw can Bweathe!

MR. DOGOFTHEFUTURE
Um... okay? You're right, he can, and breathes like -

But it is moot, as Pigpen has moved on. The incredibly important information has been imparted.

Ah, kids.

INT. THE HOUSE, ABOUT HALF AN HOUR AGO

NIBLET wakes up, coughing and crying. It seems he's got himself a sniffle and the coughs. He is a sad Niblet. DADA and MAMA come into his room to find out what the trouble is.

NIBLET
I'm sick. I need medicine and water.

DADA
Okay, buddy. We'll get you some cough medicine and some water.

Dada leaves to go get knock-out juice (aka "cough medicine," which does nothing at all for coughs but will knock the little guy out so he can get some sleep) and a cup of water. Also some tissue paper for him to blow his runny nose on.

MAMA
Okay, Niblet, here we go - blow your nose really hard.

Niblet blows.

MAMA
You have to blow harder than that, Nibby. You can do it - blow your brains out!

NIBLET
(shocked and appalled)
But I need my brains, to remember things!

We were able to convince him that he wouldn't actually blow his brains out. We even checked the tissue.

We hopped in the car and drove 370-ish miles to Phoenix this weekend (and back, today). It is not somewhere we'd care to live, probably, but we can certainly understand its attractions.

The main attraction for us was not that it was somewhere, it could have been anywhere, as long it contained our friends. We spent an enjoyable few hours in Fountain Hills enjoying the quiet of a lovely neighborhood with quail and other various fauna and flora. It seems like a very nice place to live. Then we made our way to the Chandler end of town, which also seems an agreeable place to live, and where our other friends are making a very nice life for themselves indeed with their adorable daughters, who Mr. Nibby was fully in favor of. We also went and saw a spring training baseball game. Golly, I do like baseball.

As we were getting in the car to leave on Friday morning, though... well, what you need to know for this story is that my wife, the Derby Doll, has a sticker on the back of her helmet which reads "I AM A BAD ASS."

So Mr. Nibbles made some bunny ears at school on the day before we left, and this creation was in the car as we were getting ready to leave. He found them as he was getting in to his car seat and put them on and said, quite matter of factly:

"I am a bad ass Easter Bunny."

We, and our bad ass Easter Bunny, had a nice time this weekend. Yay!

You know how when you were a kid and your parents made you go to bed and you were thinking "oh man, I bet they get to stay up all night and do fun stuff that I don't get to do, man, it sucks to be a kid!"

Of course, what your parents probably did was watch the news and nearly fall asleep on the couch before dragging themselves to bed at 10:30.

My wife and I, however, feel we need to keep up the parent side. So what do we do after he goes to bed? Why, we stay up all night, doing fun things, eating Doritos and other junk food and playing video games. Yes: We are doing exactly what you always suspected your parents did after you were forced into your bed.

We are the worst parents in the world. And man, it is SO fun.

I was treated to two excellent shows this evening. The latter (and longer, and mostly most professional) of the two was Mike Doughty, ex of Soul Coughing and a fine, fine performer in a tiny little venue. Very, very enjoyable, but hard to translate to text. Turns out he's happy to be out of Soul Coughing, apparently. Shame he didn't like those folks much, they were really awesome. On the other hand, Doughty is even more awesome in his own right. Also, he often asked the crowd what to play next, and people kept yelling "Los Angeles!" Fuckers, it's called Screenwriter's Blues, and while it would be terribly appropriate (or possibly inappropriate) right now, there's no way he could possibly perform it. Also also, his co-performer, named (apparently) Scrappy, was amazing on the cello and guitar. Also also also, I was pleased with myself for apparently making him laugh by, at a slightly quiet point, yelling out "play a song with a different number of Jennifers!" Um, probably only Doughty fans would get that.

The other concert was the singing performance put on by our own Niblet, who treated us to renditions of the Christmas Song: "Elise Mohvidah! Elise Movidah! From the bottom of my car!... I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas, I wanna wish you a Merry Poppins..."

He also favored us with an old favorite from the Spamalot soundtrack, namely, "I am not dead yet, I mumblemumblemumble I am not yet dead mumblesomethinghey I am NOT DEAD YET I CAN DANCE and mumblethingy BECAUSE I AM NOOOT DEAAAAD YET!!!!"

Good times, people. I, for one, am not yet dead.

I adore this picture so much. It is a Niblet and his grandfather. Can YOU tell which is which? Well of course you can. But I love how seriously my son is contemplating whatever is going on - he's already learned how to be cheeseball for the camera and, frankly, though I love him to little pieces, he doesn't cheese well, so candid photos are best. Meanwhile, my dad looks like he's going to kick some ass. Why? Nobody knows. Maybe for taking an unauthorized non-cheese picture of his grandson.

Or maybe it's just, y'know, a picture. But two of my very favoritest people in the world are in this picture, looking like they are not in a picture.

They tried to make Nib go to bedtime,
but he said no, no, no.
Yes he been bad but he can look glad, no, no, no.

He will play with trains, though his daddy beat his brains,
They try to make Nib go to bedtime
but he won't go, go, go.

He'd rather be at home with trains...
He ain't got seventeen 'splains,
'Cause there's nothing you can teach him
That he can't learn by Mr. Topham Hat

They tried to make Nib go to bedtime,
but he said no, no, no.

To the tune of Amy Winehouse's Rehab

INT. LIVING ROOM: EVENING

NIBLET has a relatively fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookie, baked by MOMMY. He is munching the heck out of his cookie. DADDY and MOMMY are also eating their respective cookies.

NIBLET
I won! I won because I finished my cookie before you.

DADDY
But maybe you didn't "win."

NIBLET
I win because I finished mine first.

MOMMY
But I win because I still have my cookie. I eat it slowly, and I get to enjoy my cookie.

NIBLET
Okay, mommy. I would like to enjoy another cookie.



Clever, isn't he.

So, I was going to make a whole Niblet Theater out of this, but then I realized that really it can be distilled into a few sentences:

I took my child to Home Depot on a mission to purchase a new switch cover plate, a hose nozzle thingy (you know, one of those gun-looking things that screws onto the end of your hose and lets you regulate the flow from a huge fine mist spray to a directed stream with only a squeeze of the handle), and an air pump with which to blow up his swimming pool. The mission was only 2/3 successful (though we did later find a pump elsewhere), but as we searched and searched, I let him ride around on my shoulders. He split the time between looking at things he'd never seen before and asking me what they were, and by running his hands over my cheeks and occasionally saying "bzzzzzzz" and then being surprised that making a buzzing noise didn't seem to remove the fuzz, as my electric shaver does.

And so we tramped through the aisles, brave home-improvement warriors that we are, looking and bzzzing, until absolutely out of nowhere, there near the electrical irrigation system timers, the Niblet declared: "I love you, Dada."

I really will never know why at that moment he felt he loved me. And the next moment he was wondering what some weird hedge-trimming device was. But right then, it was one of the best things that has ever happened to me. One thing that is awesome about having a kid is that I expect that these "best thing that has ever happened to me" moments to continue. At least until he's a teenager.

INT. BEDROOM
It is NIBLET's bedtime. Niblet does not want to go to bed, and has recently revealed a deep-seated fear of a moose coming out of his wall. Nobody has any clue why, but Niblet still seems pretty shaky.

DADA
Okay, buddy. Time to go to bed. You've got the pull-ups on, and you're ready for bed.

NIBLET
Okay, Dada.

Niblet climbs into bed and pulls the sheet up over him.

NIBLET
Dada, will you sleep with me?

DADA
Oh gosh, buddy. I can't. I have important Dada stuff to do.

NIBLET
Can Mama sleep with me?

DADA
Oh, buddy. No, she can't. She is going to sleep in the bed with me. We have our own bed to sleep in.

NIBLET
But maybe you could both sleep with me in my bed and it would be our bed.

DADA
Sweet little guy... no. We can't sleep with you. We have to sleep in our bed, and you have to sleep in your bed.

NIBLET
Can you find me another grownup to sleep with me?

DADA
(heart is being torn asunder)
Buddy... oh gosh... it's okay for you to be in your bed alone, I promise. You need to sleep here in your bed by yourself. I promise that you will be okay. And hey, you've got all your animals! Look, it's Pink Dog! And Rolf! And Niblet Dog! And other animals!

NIBLET
Thanks, Dada. Can you find my my lion?

DADA
Huh? Oh, hey, look there's a stuffed lion and rabbit. You now have several stuffed dogs, two stuffed rabbits, a stuffed Stewie (from Family Guy, really), a small stuffed lion, and approximately 15 stuffed animals stacked around you like a bulwark. Is that going to be okay?

NIBLET
Yes, Dada. Night-night. I will close my eyes.

DADA
That's a good idea. Good night, sweet boy. I love you SO much.

NIBLET
Night night, Dada.

No more noises were heard from the room tonight - presumably he sacked out pretty quick. Boy howdy. It's hard out here for a Daddy.

How I ever got a child this beautiful, I will never know.

The backstory: AJ is a truly adorable two-year-old girl. She is really very sweet and redonkulously cute with a big silly grin. Her mother and father, sadly, have quite recently divorced. Her father (a friend of ours) is taking AJ on a whirlwind tour of the US to visit friends and family while he is on leave from his job in a foreign country. Tonight, her father, my wife, and several other friends went to see a show after we all had dinner while yet another friend of ours watched the passel of kids. I picked up Niblet and AJ after dinner and took them home, where they are currently snoozing (probably adorably cuddling) in Niblet's bed. (Note: I continue to refer to myself in the following as Dada, though I am not AJ's Dada.)


INT. AUTOMOBILE - NIGHT, ON THE WAY HOME

AJ and NIBLET are amusing themselves by copying each other making various high-pitched noises. DADA is ignoring them. Eventually, they wind down.

AJ
Where is my mommy?

DADA
I think she's at your house, sweetie.

AJ
No, she's in Canada!

DADA
Oh, okay. What is she doing in Canada?

AJ
Talking. She's talking to Canada.

DADA
There's a lot of people in Canada. That sounds like a big job.

AJ
Yes. It is a big job to talk to Canada.

CUT TO:

INT. OUR HOUSE - LATER

AJ
Where is my mommy?

DADA
She's in Canada, right, sweetie?

NIBLET
Where is MY mommy?

DADA
I told you, buddy. She's out with AJ's daddy, and our friends Sean and Amanda. Do you remember Amanda?

AJ
That's where my mommy is! She's in MANada!

DADA
Uh, well, you know, maybe, um, gosh, well, I wouldn't like to speculate, but, uh, so... hey, would you guys like some juice?

AJ & NIBLET
(in unison)
Okay!

I also considered developing a severe cough, but I didn't think I could pull it off that quickly.

I was allowed to sleep late, then I was fed a delicious omelet, crispy bacon, and toast. Then the child was whisked off to a comic-book store while I was allowed to slouch around doing nothing (which task I performed at in an exemplary manner), had lunch brought back to me, and then got to take a nap. In the meantime, laundry and vacuuming and such happened around me. Woo! Afterwards, we went out for a delicious steak dinner, and hung around with our friends who took our child, and then we came home. It's been great. Really darn great. If I'd known that fathering a child (I had the easy part) was going to produce days this awesome, I would have done so a lot earlier. Except not really.

Anyway, the reason I am a father, a.k.a Niblet, has been really interested in Superman lately. And at the comic book store he got a boxed set of a pretty cool Superman AND Batman. He's been playing with them pretty much non-stop. And so we bring you another edition of Niblet Theater. (Yes, it used to be called something else Theater. It's not any more.)



NIBLET THEATER

INT. - MY CHILD'S BRAIN

SUPERMAN and BATMAN are standing near each other. They are both wearing capes that must NOT be removed. Suddenly, they both decide to fly around in the sky!

SUPERMAN
Swooosh! Shhhhhwooooosh!

BATMAN
ssss! ssst-ssssss! ... I came down. Now Superman should come down too.

SUPERMAN
Okay, I'm landing now.

Superman and Batman land on a strange, dark green, and slightly resilient and leathery surface. They land facing each other at a distance of inches, even in scale.

BATMAN
Hello, Superman.

SUPERMAN
Hello, Batman.

BATMAN
Dada, what does Superman say?

SUPERMAN
Um, I don't know... Hey, Batman, how was your day?

BATMAN
Good.

SUPERMAN
Me too. What did you do today, Batman?

BATMAN
I went to the park.

SUPERMAN
That sounds like a lot of fun, Batman. What did you do at the park?

BATMAN
I went on the slide and the swings.

SUPERMAN
That sounds like fun, Batman. Was it fun?

BATMAN
Yes, Superman, it was a lot of fun. Let's go to the park.

SUPERMAN
Okay!

EXT. - THE PARK, LATER (INSIDE MY CHILD'S BRAIN)


SUPERMAN
Dada, you take Batman.

BATMAN
I can't, buddy. I have to take a shower. You play with Superman and Batman.

SUPERMAN
Okay.

BATMAN
I love you, Superman.

SUPERMAN
I love you, Batman.

BATMAN
Let's fly around together!

SUPERMAN
Sssss! sssss! sstttssss!

BATMAN
Sstttsss! ssss!

And yet they cannot marry. Some society we live in.

So. The boy , in addition to being extraordinarily adorable (see linked picture above), is also still pretty interested in bodily emanations.

For instance he... this is kind of shameful, people, so please don't hate me... he thinks it's the absolute BEE'S KNEES for us to go pee together. Yes, right at the same time, tinkle tinkle into the same potty. It is a manly penis-based ritual. And then, because we have peed together, we must also flush together. He puts his finger on one part of the flush handle, and I put my finger on the other, and then we flush. Together. For the record, we also both wash our hands together.

It's either all very sweet, or all very disturbing. Your pick. Note: He is three years old. (So this kind of thing really can't go on much longer, right? RIGHT.)

INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY

NIBLET comes walking into the room holding the flash to MAMA'S camera.

NIBLET
Where do you put your eye?


The flash is quickly taken away from him.

MAMA
Niblet, you can't ever touch my camera.

NIBLET
Where do you put your eye?

MAMA
Niblet. Don't ever touch my camera.

NIBLET
But where do you put your eye?

MAMA
Niblet. Stop. Come here. Listen to me. Are you listening to me?

NIBLET
Yes, Mama.

MAMA
Don't ever touch my camera. Do you understand?

NIBLET
Yes. Where do you put your eye?

MAMA
What did I just tell you?

NIBLET
To listen.

MAMA
And what did I tell you after that?

NIBLET
I don't know. I wasn't listening.

Life with a three-year old - it's invigorating!

INT. - A STRETCHY ROOM WITH NO WINDOWS AND NO DOORS

The room has been stretching, changing what appeared to be normal portraits into scenes of mortal danger for all those pictured in the portraits. A creepy narrator begins to speak about the "corruptible, mortal state" of those in the portraits.

NIBLET gets a bit sketchy and clings on to MAMA.



CREEPY NARRATOR
...you will see that this room has NO windows, and NO doors. Heh heh heh. Of course... there's always MY way.


INT. - CEILING
The ceiling suddenly becomes transparent, revealing a corpse hanging from a crossbeam, possibly one of the actual creepy moments in this attraction.

The lights go out and the room is plunged into sudden darkness. People in the room begin to scream in a fake manner.


NIBLET
I wanna go outsiiiide!

ROOM
Hahahahah!



Poor little guy. He's only three. But he has perfect comedy timing, he really does. Once we got out of that room and into the "dancing ghosts" section of the Haunted Mansion, he was basically okay with it.

And he was really, absolutely and truly, the best guy during the entire day. Despite getting utterly exhausted, he was totally the best little guy the whole day at Disney Land. He seemed to have a pretty good time, too. It's easy for me to forget that he is only 3 (and just barely 3 at that) because he is such a little man. Lord knows we saw enough other kids who couldn't contain themselves as well as he did, and they were, like, 32.

Anyway, apparently early aging runs in the family, because I realized today that despite having only last week grown out of the 18-34 demographic, I am already *well* out of it. You see, when we first arrived, I saw a girl wearing a shirt that something about "Hollister" and "So Cal Love" and I thought, heh, well, okay there, little town of Hollister, you're finding a new way to sell some shirts and stuff.

I kept seeing it throughout the day and I thought "wow, this town is pretty hip and cool, somehow, and they're having a Disneyland day in this central California town."

It took seeing a teenaged girl with a frankly astonishingly revealing pair of shorts which should have read "Juicy" but instead read "Hollister" to realize that, oh - this has nothing to do with Hollister, California - it's a new brand of clothing. It took waaaaaay too long for me to figure it out, frankly.

I swear to you on all that is holy that I had not seen nor heard of this brand until today.

And so I am officially old. I expect to be introduced to further new brands of clothing over the coming years, but only as further surprises as my child will demand clothing with these brands.

The fight which will ensue is further proof of how old I now am. But: As of last week I can run for President, by golly. So expect to see me throwing my hat (my NON-BRANDED hat) into the ring any day now.

INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING

NIBLET is playing with various toys, as DADA reads a book.


NIBLET
Dada, I'm hungwy. I'm hungwy, Dada. I would like something to eat, Dada. I'm hungwy.

DADA
I heard you the first time. So what would you like to eat?

NIBLET
Umm... peanut butteh an-

DADA
No way, kid. You have to eat something other than peanut butter and jelly.

NIBLET
But I need it.

DADA
Why do you need it?

NIBLET
Because you have to.

DADA
Oh come on. How about a hot dog? How about some pasta? Or chicken? Or potatoes? Or vegetables?

NIBLET
Peanut butteh and jelly.

DADA
How about if I give you half of a peanut butter and jelly and some vegetables? Will that get you off my back?

Niblet comes over to Dada and grabs Dada's love handles.

NIBLET
I am on youw back, Dada!

Niblet releases the love handles.

NIBLET
And now I am off youw back.

It is fun having kids. But sometimes they can make you feel like a big old Jerk Dad.