Well, this is new

I can now pinpoint the exact hour when I feel like I permanently grew up: between 1:00 and 2:00 PM CST on 21 January 2009. I honestly feel like being informed that I would be having a daughter did that. I think having a son would have been different. Why? For one, I don't think it's socially acceptable to teach little girls that farts are funny (hint: they are!). Also, I would love to spend the next ten years playing with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures - literally, love. The Ninja Turtles are awesome, and if your favorite is anyone but Donatello you suck. If your favorite is actually Leonardo we can't ever be friends because you are obviously an incredibly boring person. Go back to eating your plain oatmeal and drinking pulp-free orange juice from concentrate. It would be dangerously, dangerously, dangerously easy to revert back to being an actual boy if I were going to spend the next ten years surrounded by dinosaurs, Transformers, and whatever today's equivalent of He-Man is. Mostly having a boy would be all the justification I needed to buy a Wii or Xbox, but not for myself, oh no! For the improved hand-eye coordination and educational opportunities it presents to a son.


Sadly (luckily?) this is not my fate. I won't easily get sucked into little girl things. There's going to be lots of pretending going on. I mean, how am I supposed to enjoy these tea parties when we aren't even going to have actual tea. It's all make believe. Nope. I'm going to be staying all growed up over here, because little girls are a totally different creature. I can't imagine what it's like to be a child who doesn't want to memorize dinosaur names, kick bad guys' faces in, and blow up aliens on your NES. Instead it's going to be Barbies and playing house and whatever things little girls like doing... maybe gambling, like I said I don't know the first thing about what little girls enjoy.


One very promising development follows, though: I know for a fact that little girls love to play with other people's hair because little girls are scary social. Maybe - just maybe - this is all the justification I need to be allowed to grow the sweet afro and stupidly long beard I've been hoping to grow for the lulz. Everything is OK if done for lulz. Ariane can't deny me that when it's for lulz and our little girl's benefit, right? Right?



Update (5:28 PM): I just realized that this is the second post already in which I have stressed the hilarity of farts and the importance of understanding that. God, I am such a hack. A month in and I already am reusing material. Expect straight up suckage from here on out (not that this blogge hasn't been bogged down with an extreme amount of suck already).