I think this means I can't be sexist anymore

Earlier this week I was sitting next to my son, explaining the more intricate details of the Green Lantern back story and thinking to myself “I’ve done it. It’s taken 3 1/2 years to do it but I’ve finally done it.”

“I’ve become comfortable with being a father.”

Then two days later I had that ripped away from me.

If you say it right, janitor sounds like a He-man villian

The other day someone was asking my son what he want to be when he grew up. He gave his spiel and I waited patiently for my turn to answer, figuring I would be asked next.

I would wait indefinitely, as the question never came.

After five minutes of awkward silence, I was like “Holy buttnuts! I’m grown up.”

And so as a responsible grown up, here is some advice for you young whippersnappers on how to properly be a janitor, because trust me at some point in your life your need for food will over power your need to not be up to your elbows in someone else’s toilet.

Maybe my real son is in another castle

I’m slowing learning that kids are more than an endless story of great poop stories.

Contrary to how it’s portrayed in after school specials, there’s actually a lot of advantages to having kids. They force you to grow up in ways you never thought possible. You see the world again for the first time with fresh eyes. You get to experience all the highs and lows of life all over again, now with the wisdom of your years.

They’re also little balls of proof that you’ve had sex that follow you around.

Along with all that, you get to teach them stuff. Not just stupid stuff like how to tie shoelaces or right from wrong. Fun stuff too. Just as my dad spent hours with my and a wiffle bat trying to teach me the sport he loved, I too can now spend time teach my son about what’s important to me.

And I have to say, I love my son, but I hate how bad he is at video games.

I can’t talk to my parents about this frustration. They’re normally great at reminding me that everything my son does to me I totally deserve. Every time I tell them about how he has drew on the wall, threw dinner in my face or walked around naked at church they just laugh as recount some story about how I did the exact same thing when I was his age. Or my senior year.

It’s demeaning and comforting at the same time which - as far as I can tell - is the basis of all good parenting.

But when I bring up the video game thing they just change the subject to something unrelated like how I need to focus more on growing up.

And they could totally do that again here. Everything he is doing to me I totally deserve. I have a vague recollection of Pac-man machine at grocery store and an even vaguer recollection of my mom hating that thing.

It's easy to understand why she hated it. This was the mid 80s when 25 cents was a lot of money to let a 3 year mash buttons and move a joystick in random directions for 20 seconds followed by 5 minutes of crying because the ghost got them.

That’s my life now. Only it didn't cost me a quarter, the ghost had way more pixels and I’m the one crying instead of him.

Seriously, how can he be this bad at them!

This is up early because tomorrow after work I'm going out of town for the week end. Always remember, Steve never leaves you hangin.

The only Bell I want to toll for me is Taco.

I make it a point not to speak ill of the dead. Or of the people who killed them.

I’m not a hypochondriac or anything like that, but I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately.

This is partially because I’m getting older, experiencing more of life and realizing that time only goes in one direction, pulling all of with it in an unending march to that final destination that we all know lies ahead. I’ve seen loved ones come and go and learned first hand that it is the fact that this is all temporary that makes life beautiful and worth living in the first place.

It’s also because I’ve been playing a lot of Mortal Kombat lately.

There’s just something about ripping the still beating heart from your enemy’s chest to make you realize how precious the time we have here is.

As I’ve been considering this ultimate end credits I’ve decided all that sentimental stuff I said above was bull dookie. I wanna live forever. There is just too much in life that I want to experience, with more coming around all the time. I want to climb the Alps. I want to eat one of those six foot long hoagies. I want to learn how to play the Pokemon card game.

Besides, all the cool kids are immortal: Duncan McCloud, Doctor Who, LL Cool J.

Now that my living forever has been decided, I just need to figure out how. I figure having grown up in Idaho, I can count all that time as being cryogenically frozen, so that’s a good start. Plus if you are what you eat, and I eat mostly things with tons of preservatives, I should be in pretty good shape to end up being preserved as is.

So I’m just going to drink from every stream I find hoping it’s the fountain of youth and sleeping each night wrapped in toilet paper, just in case.

Oh and if I see that Harry Potter kid, I’m totally kicking his butt. Not for Philosopher's Stone, the Seventh Book just sucked.