Is Poop Really Getting in the Way? ... and Other Weekend Issues

I don't know if my weekend should be considered typical or atypical (does it have to be one or the other?), but there were a few items of note. I would be an irresponsible blogger if I didn't share them.

"Your poop is getting in the way of family time." I don't really like going to the park. For a man with a couple of kids, that can be a problem. But my reason for abandoning my family at Porter Park Friday night was legitimate: I HAD to go to the bathroom, and I wasn't using a portable jail cell of a 'toilet' in order to relieve myself. Luckily we'd gone to the park right after running a couple of errands, so we were only about a mile from home and I had the use of a car at my disposal. (Frankly, I might have run that mile if I didn't have the car.) Anyway, I was only gone for about ten minutes. Harmless relief, right? Of course not. During my short round-trip, my 18-month-old son took a header into a rocking dinosaur, bloodying his lip and chipping a tooth. Come on, what are the freaking odds? Could I have prevented it? Probably not, but my turds may always be tied to that little chipped tooth.

Miley Cyrus, you tricky little broad. I had a great idea for Saturday morning. I was ready to get online just before 10:00am to position myself for a couple of tickets to the Miley Cyrus concert later this year at Kansas City's Sprint Center. Of course, I wasn't really positioning myself to experience this show, and I wasn't even doing so for the benefit of my eight-year-old stepson, who regrettably glues himself to Hannah Montana and other Disney Channel fluff as if it were a Martin Scorcese marathon. No, I was ready to buy and resell these golden tickets and pocket the extra cash. Well, my plan was quickly foiled by this "Official Paperless Ticket Tour."

The Miley Cyrus tour is a paperless ticketed tour. You will not receive a physical ticket for entry and are required to bring the credit card used to buy your tickets and a government-issued ID to the venue, where your credit card will be swiped to gain you and your party access to the event. If you do not have your credit card and government-issued ID in hand at the event, you will not gain access to the event.

Translation: If you buy the tickets, you better be the one who shows up at the gate. Fuckin' bastards.

I didn't go to Home Depot for the chocolate. I'm going to make this one really quick: Whoever the hell came up with the idea of putting candy in the checkout aisles at places like Home Depot is a genius. Christ, I can't go pick up a couple of bags of mulch and sand without ending up with a Kit Kat too?! I tried to escape without it, but you should have heard the fucking temper tantrum. Yet another joy of parenthood.

And it's Monday again. Cheers.