Waka Waka way from me, you little pooper

Being a dad is tougher than I thought it would be when I decided to not care about becoming a dad. Wendy-Tina, my best gal, and I have had many kids during our loving, but one of my 4 year olds, Dinbler, is really making my life harder than the others had.

Dinbler is allergic to grass, which really makes his lawn mowing chore hard, and he is apparently allergic to eggs, because they make him real sleepy. This really limits me, because I usually have my kids mow the lawn and let them go nuts on a carton of eggs afterward. Thanks to Dinbler and his itchy genes, I have to let him stop mowing to scratch his hives every once in a while. To help I got him a ferret so he could have the thing working his hives the whole time, but the damn ferret got snooty with me and I had to shoot it.

Back when I was a kid, we didn’t have ‘shots’ that we had to get or ‘checkups’ that don’t do a thing, and we didn’t use fancy casts to ‘re-set broken bones’ or large bandages to ‘cover open flesh wounds.’ When did we go soft? When did the remedy of spit, rust, and sawdust become bad for a chainsaw mishap? All I know is that Brenda, the social services lady that practically lives at my house, tells me I will get in trouble if I don’t take Dinbler to the doctor for checkups and stuff, and that he probably “needs to get that checked out.” I tell you I hate her so much.

Note: At this point I had to take 5 minutes to regroup and punch someone in the neck so that I could calm down. This is how much Brenda sucks at life

If anyone had told me that having youngins would take time and cost money, I would have monkey slapped you and amputated your legs in disbelief. Stupid kid doesn’t pull his weight for crap around here and he takes a lot of my time. Plus, he walks around quoting little cartoons (most recently Fozie, who always says “Waka waka”), which drives me into a violent rage. I can’t wait until he is old enough for me to disown him.

More to come.