Someone asked why the title of this blog involves a da-da-ist title (it's pronounced, "DAA-DAA") not to mention the odd wording. Da-da informed this young, unmarried, non-child-laden Hugh Hefner wannabe that his title is "DA-DA," to the small, the loud, the diaper-challenged.
Those of you born before 1975 may recall the movie, "A Man Called Horse," and its many sequels ("Triumph of A Man Called Horse," "Complete Flaccid Collapse of A Man Called Horse," "Radioactive Underpants of a Man Called Horse," etc.). Anyway, being Mr. Mom -- or a parent in general -- is very much like hanging painfully for hours and hours and hours in a hot sweaty stinky room by a long sharp horse bone inserted beneath the skin of your chest until you pass out and have an OOB experience and someone has to stab you with a spear... but in a GOOD way.
Besides, every day you survive as a parent is a TRIUMPH, baby. Those of you with easy children, thank your lucky stars.
1 comments:
note: these earlier blog iterations were sans CAPITALIZATION as a kind of dumb stylistic wax that made the chicken DANCE. however, the chicken got bored, so... back to grammar.
Post a Comment