That's right, motherfuckers!! It's THURSDAY!!! And like I promised, I have a new Baby Daddy story for you all! But before I dig into that, I want it to be noted that I trained in Krav Maga last night. I ended up with a bloody nose. Turns out, if you aggressively spar with someone who has more experience, you are likely to get a forearm to the face. Moral of the story: I didn't die.
On a separate note, today is Thursday and I love it. Tomorrow is Friday, which means I get to drink all the coffee!! Also, tonight, my wife and I are going zombie hunting. Evidently there is this thing where we get paintball guns, sit in a trailer, and shoot the shit out of some zombies. I'm investing $10 in an additional canister of paintballs, because it will be worth it. And for those of you saying, "Is that safe for your preggers wife?" You bet your ass it is! One, she won't get shot. Two, we are not running around. Three, she's probably the meanest person on the team. G-d save the poor soul that crosses her in a zombie apocalypse. On a side note, in undergrad, my school had Humans vs Zombies. For one week, there would be designated "zombies". Humans who played could shoot them with Nerf guns, and it was great. I was part of an elite team, Team Apocalypto. It was two mechanical engineers, one of which was in the army, and myself. The three of us created the most innovative Nerf weapons, including a blow-dart gun. By the end of the week, we would host the "Apocalypto Challenge". This would be the final showdown, where we fought to the death. It would always take more than an hour for the horde to stop us. Moral of Story: I'm excited to shoot some fucking zombies.
But back to being a Baby Daddy. I would like it to be noted that my kid is an asshole. That's right, I said it. He may even be a dick. Why do I say that? Because that son-of-a-saint is active as shit until I get home. And yes, I did alter what I was going to say. Why? Because
you call your son a sumbitch, and see how
your wife reacts. I'm not dumb. At least not that dumb. But I digress. With my wife entering into the back-half of her pregnancy, our little fart-ball (thanks, father-in-law) has started moving. The problem is, when I try to feel the child move, the little asshole stops. I was driving home from work the other day, and my wife was telling me about how the kid was hyper-active. Evidently my wife was playing music and the kid was full of energy.
On a side note, my wife said the kid was most active when Bieber came on the radio. This means one of two things. One, our son hates Bieber and has great taste in music. Two, our son loves Bieber, and we have already failed as parents. If it is the latter, I suppose we can always get rid of the kid and try again. But I digress...
So I'm driving home, and hearing about how active my child is, and I just think, "This is the day. I get to feel my son move." I pull up, into the drive way, and that asshole stopped moving. Entirely. I mean, seriously. What the shit, kid? Does he know he wouldn't exist without me? He wouldn't be a boy if it weren't for me. I will be sitting on the couch, working, and my wife will say that the baby is moving. As soon as I open my mouth, or move to feel, that asshole stops. No movement. Nothing. Talk about a whiny little brat. It's like he's moving to say, "Hey....Hey.....Hey!" and as soon as I turn to talk to him, "Nope. Fuck you." What a dick.
My wife keeps trying to put a positive spin on it, saying that the baby is unhappy and that feeling my presence calms him down. While this is sweet, there is a problem with the logic. I know this kids father. His father is an asshole. And yes, I am talking about myself, in case I have someone reading this that is not familiar with my work. It's called humor. Read my other posts and catch yourself up. Once you do, you will understand why I say my kid is acting like his father. And if I were my son, I'd be laughing my ass off. That's okay though. I still slept with his mom. IN YOUR FACE KID!!! Hahahahahahahahahahaha man my wife is going to hate me for that one...
Moral of the Story: My kid is an asshole and I couldn't be prouder. And yes, this post had three stories.
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