Teen Titans Go! is a goofball show on Cartoon Network about a team of young superheroes lead by Robin. They often fail at protecting Jump City from B-list villains because they’re too distracted by burgers and burritos. Needless to say, I identify. Continue reading Teen Titans Go! Series 1 blind bag codes
A handful of Facebook friends unfollowed me because they thought I was serious about spoiling Season 6, Episode 9 (59 overall). Did you know the title of the episode is a spoiler in itself?
Anyway, this tweet is pure fantasy. I’ll watch the episode at 10:30 p.m. Arizona time, four and a half hours after it first airs, an hour after we put the kids to bed and 30 minutes after I glance at a spoiler posted by someone I need to unfriend on the social medias.
I should know better by now, for the Facebook is dark and full of terrors.
Batman won’t take his youngest son to see Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice.
“Four years old is a little young to see this whole movie,” Ben Affleck told the Associated Press. “I don’t want him to have nightmares.”
My 4-year-old son already has a ticket to the movie. With the opening-night crowd. On the biggest movie screen in the state. In brain-exploding IMAX 3D. Go big or go back to the Batcave, I always say.
You might be thinking I’m a terrible parent and an even worse moviegoer. Maybe you think I’m the kind of narcissistic father who presumes his own little Batman fan to be cooler than Samuel Garner Affleck. I don’t think I’m any of those things. Here’s why the Champ has earned his ticket. Continue reading Batman v Superman: Why I’m bringing my 4-year-old
WANTED: The arms, torso and tail of a spider monkey. I have access to working baby legs, and I know a guy who has a pug. Attack of the Dad is making Puppy Monkey Baby happen IRL.
Why, you ask? I’m hot on social media thanks to brands (Taco Bell quote-tweeted my Instagram). I want to keep this rolling, and being a regular dad just isn’t cutting it.
A year ago, the ads in Super Bowl XLIX were all about dads. Always had an empowering message about how to raise our girls. Dove told us that a well-moisturized man is better at kissing his kids. Nissan had an inscrutable short film about a race-car driver, but Toyota really tugged at our dadstrings.
Things aren’t going well in season 5 of HBO’s Game of Thrones. With the exception of Qyburn, the weirdo with the ever-expanding collection of twitching corpses and severed dwarf heads, all the characters are having a rough time.
In my living room, however, things are going great. I can hear every whispered line of dialogue without worrying that a loud sword clang or dragon screech or sex moan will wake the kids. What’s my secret? An Xbox One.
The most annoying character in every dramatic series used to be our TV’s volume bar. It would wiggle through every scene of Walking Dead or Gotham as my wife clenched the remote, twitchy thumb on the volume rocker, struggling to keep the voices audible while suppressing every gunshot, explosion or loud commercial. With unwavering vigilance, she persevered.
We babies of the ’80s didn’t have much competition for our parents’ undivided attention. Soap operas. Phil Donahue. Sometimes we had to cry a little louder so adults could hear us over their shoulder pads and through their perms. No problemo, as we used to say.
If my 11-month-old daughter could talk in sentences, she’d tell you kids today have it worse. Parents pull shiny toys out of their pockets and can spend an unlimited amount of time staring and tapping at the glowy part. The big TV plays whatever they tell it to. Sometimes it’s Umizoomi, which is great, but a lot of the time it’s grownups droning on in muted-trombone sounds. Like, gag me with a spoon.
So baby has a plan to win the attention war. She’s methodically testing our tech for weaknesses she can exploit. And she’s finding them.
I’m about to double my cash value as a stay-at-home dad. My wife and I are expecting our second child — a girl — this August. In the month since we found out the sex of the baby, we hear the same thing every day:
Do you have a name? How about _________ ?
I’ll answer the second question first. No. Your name suggestion is stupid. As for the first question, we don’t have a name. We have something even better: A formula for coming up with the best possible baby name. Continue reading Best baby names: A simple formula
Since I’ve become a parent, I’ve done some things I wouldn’t brag about to my bros. I know the name of every Yo Gabba Gabba! character. I squeal when my son sticks his finger in my belly button. I once went to the mall just to get a limited-edition Yankee Candle, and I bought the matching Illuma-Lid to go with it. That last one I can’t even blame on my kid.
But now my son is getting over a sinus infection, and this forced me to do something unthinkably girly.
One of my self-imposed rules for stay-at-home fathering is to avoid daytime TV whenever possible. I get around this rule by recording The Daily Show and The Colbert Report at night and then watching them the next day.
The Champ seems pretty interested in what Stephen Colbert has to say. It could be Colbert’s confidence, his in-your-face delivery, the bold colors of his studio or maybe just his eyebrows. So naturally, I ordered Champ a copy of Clobert’s children’s book the day it came out. What follows is my Amazon review of I Am a Pole (And So Can You!):
Flashes of heart, but too many flashes of pole
With its positive message about patriotism and finding your role in life, this could have been a great book for kids. Instead, Colbert crosses the line into adults-only humor a few too many times. There’s an insensitive jab at Native Americans, a couple of thinly veiled drug references and, worst of all, a full-page illustration of the main character as a stripper pole. The “Show Us Your Pole” activity page doesn’t help, either. Continue reading Stephen Colbert is corrupting America’s babies