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What makes a good blog? I think thematic consistency, a little exhibitionism, and honest writing. I can promise you the last one.

Most of my posts seem to be about music or politics. Some of them are funny. But all of them would love to hear a comment from you.

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I was born at a relatively young age. Growing up consumed the better part of my childhood. As a young man I chased a lot of girls. But they kept getting away. Then I got older and even slower, so I got married. I've lived in New York City almost since before I moved here. I summer in Manhattan, which is like New York City, but with more humidity.

Here's me, without baby, thinking big thoughts. (Actually, what I'm thinking is, "Hey, these aren't Pringles!") I think I look better with baby.


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Yessir, That's My Baby
Thursday, January 19, 2006
"You're right Daddy. The Doors totally suck."

My daughter is pushing 20 months. Of all the wondrous things about watching her unfold into the person she is going to be, I think the part that gives me the greatest pleasure is her sense of humor. That’s right, my daughter knows funny.

She hates going to the doctor—once we get there she remembers the shots, and begins to panic. The last time we went (no shots, just a routine sick kid thing), she was terrified. So one of the nurses in the office tried to amuse her by putting a stuffed animal on her head, sneezing (“a-CHOO!”), and as she pitched her head forward, the punch line was the stuffed animal would fall off. Sure, it doesn’t sound funny. And it wasn’t that funny, not when the nurse did it. And my daughter was so upset that in a million years it would not have occurred to me that she would remember this little shtick.

But the next day she was putting toys on her head, exclaiming “A-TOO!” and jerking her head forward to toss the toy off. And somehow when she does it, it becomes funny. Indeed it has become her best bit (far surpassing the overdone "peek-a-boo.") Somehow she understood that it was supposed to be funny, and when she needs a laugh from a stranger, that’s where she goes.

Yesterday she was over at a playmate’s house with a couple of other kids. She put a toy on her head and did her “A-Too!” take. No reaction. So she looked at the other kids like they were dense and announced, “Funny. Layne funny!” Like, “Hey, that’s my A material. Is this thing on? I can hear you breathing.”

Sometimes she’ll drink water, store it in her mouth, and spit it out (a classic spit take.) Of course we scold her sternly. But then she looks up at us, shrugs, and says, “funny.” And it’s hard to tell her that no, it is NOT funny, when you’re choking back hysterical laughter

Posted by: --josh-- @ 10:36 AM  


3 Comments:
At 1/19/2006 12:36 PM, Anonymous Annie said...   

So you're still shopping the Net for a pony, right? Or maybe a My First Seinfeld toy microphone kit? Laye really does have good comic timing. And, of course, the eyebrow thing.


At 1/19/2006 12:37 PM, Anonymous Annie said...   

I beg her pardon. I meant Layne.


At 1/19/2006 1:19 PM, Blogger RoxiticusDH said...   

BP's daughter becoming Seinfeldette??!! Say it's not so....Just wait till she discovers NYHRC and makes boys giggle on the weight circuit.


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