“Daddy?”
“Yes Madeline?”
“What’s a system?”
“Well, a system is a group of parts that work together to accomplish something. Like the nervous system in your body, which helps you think and feel things.”
“Are systems only in your body?”
“No, there are systems everywhere, like in computers for example.”
“Oh! I see. Computer systems.
They help you find Google, and funny pictures.”
So my son and I recently stayed with my parents for a couple of weeks (that’s its own story).
One day, grandma put on Cars for my son (his favourite), but it was an unfamiliar TV and she had trouble getting the volume to work.
No matter – he’s a happy little guy and was perfectly content watching it without any sound (he’s seen it 145,892 times so I’m sure following along with the plot was not a serious hurdle).
So the next morning, he asked papa if he could put Cars on for him.
“Papa, I can watch Cars?”
“Sure buddy.”
“You can make it with sound?”
“Yep, sound is on.”
“Oh, gramma gonna be SO proud of you.”
Now, I can’t say this with 100% certainty . . . but I’m pretty sure my son likes his new book 
Last weekend, our five year old daughter made a couple of crafts.
This is her very favourite thing to do, and something she does pretty much daily. She’s amazingly good at it too – and I’m her Dad, I know for sure.
So on Saturday she decided to make “some grownup things” and started with what just might be the two most prominent fixtures in her parents’ lives – coffee mugs and computers.
So she made a coffee mug and filled it with bits of black paper for the coffee.
And then she made a computer.
This is the screen and keyboard:
Notice that she is currently looking at the weather forecast on the screen.
And this is the back of the computer:
You know, just for anybody out there who still questions the power of branding . . .
“I don’t know” is not in the vocabulary of a five year old child.
It simply does not compute.
So instead of ever saying that they don’t know the answer to something, or shrugging their shoulders, or asking and trying to find out the answer, their tendency is more to . . . well, to lie.
Okay, it’s actually not totally surprising that she’d be named Mipmip – everybody knows that Mr. and Mrs. Suzzlefuts are assholes.
It started out, as one might expect, with French fries.
We thought nothing of it at the time – no big deal, it’s just a little ketchup for dipping. Little did we know that we were complicit in providing her with this powerful “gateway” food.
Soon it was a bit more ketchup for her fries, then a bit more. And before long, she was dipping a whole lot more than just French fries. First it was chicken fingers, then hot dogs and hamburgers, then it was vegetables and . . . sorry, this is hard for me . . . then it was pizza.
“Please Mom, just a little more? Just one more shot? Please Daddy? I just need one more dip. I love you!”
Then things just escalated. She wasn’t even eating the French fries anymore – they had become little more than a carrier – just a way for her to scoop out a big red blob of the day’s fix.
She’s been “riding the red dragon” for almost three years now, and if we don’t get her help soon, I can’t even imagine how many gallons of ketchup her and those “friends” of hers are going to go through at her sixth birthday party.
We considered making her go cold turkey, but she’d just find a way to dip that too.
We even thought about taking her to one of these transitional treatment centres – you know, the ones that get them off the ketchup but get them started on tomato juice – but I’m just not sure that’s better!
We’ll keep you updated on our progress as we tackle this challenge. Until then . . . you would be wise to hide your tomatoes.
My name is Carey and it has been three days since I’ve seen my children.
Don’t worry – they’re fine.
It’s Easter break at school and they’re both home all week and so my wife thought it might be a good idea (read: a good way to prevent nervous breakdowns, epic battles and regrettable corporal punishment) to break up the week by spending part of it at the cabin.
I thought it was a great idea. The kids love the lake and we’re in the middle of some home renos so I figured it would give me a chance to work my tail off in the evenings to make our home a bit more . . . well, not a broken disaster.
And it has been great. The kids are having the time of their life playing around at the lake and I’ve accomplished a crapload of house stuff in their absence (it’s a scientific fact that productivity declines by 99% with each child under 6 who is present).
The quiet, the alone time, the productivity, the peace and the self-indulgence have been fantastic.
And really by ‘fantastic’ I mean ‘excruciating.’ I miss them so much I just might have a nervous breakdown.
Being rudely awakened at an ungodly hour by a little girl climbing into our bed carrying two blankets, three stuffed animals, two barbies and an outfit change?
Best way in the world to wake up.
Having a little boy climb all over you and poke you in the eye so you’ll pay attention to him while you’re trying to have an adult conversation?
In retrospect, it’s the best damned way to have a conversation.
My name is Carey and I miss my children 
How to entertain two children for half an hour, 2 variations:
1. Digital Version – Dora on iPad (Cost: $800 plus Netflix)
2. Analog Version – 4 Pieces of Spaghetti (Cost: less than one cent)
ROUND ONE
Maddy, go to bed.
NO! I don’t want to!
ROUND TWO
Maddy, if you don’t go to bed immediately, I’m taking away all of your toys.
FINE! I hate those toys anyway!
ROUND THREE
Maddy, go to bed now or you’ll have to stay inside all day tomorrow.
Yay!! Inside reading day!!!
ROUND FOUR
Maddy, go to bed right this second or Mommy and Daddy are going to keep asking you detailed questions about how your day at school went.
Goodnight Mommy! Goodnight Daddy!
Few things in life will make you feel stupider than trying to explain the difference between North/South/East/West and right/left to a five year old.
