- I have served food-court cooked pizza, glistening in the devil's oil, teeming in Satan's carbohydrates, to my three year old son.
- There have been numerous moments of unneeded bathroom breaks. In an effort to seek solace, I have concocted fictitious gastro-intestinal issues as a means of leaving the cacophony of my children.
- Snoring is a but a ruse, soporifically created noises to avoid rising at early hours with my progeny.
- There be death in Dallas, or so I have uttered to my son. I have Jim Jones-ed him with heretical anti-Cowboy sentiments. And yet, the Eagles be but 8 and 8. Fostering an ill-deserved antipathy of a flat city-scape in my three year old son is nothing more than the rotten actions of a fanatical, championship-deprived Philadelphian. But if he should be a fan of 'dem Cowboys...Oh Great One, may I continue to work on purging myself of this ailment...
- Elmo Visits The Doctor has more words than I have read aloud. To hasten bedtime routines, I have arbitrarily cut superfluous sentences. If by chance my decision to skip over Elmo's observation of the tongue-depressors offends you, please, Great One, accept my plea. I shall forever read all words and from this day forward, I will give all pediatric medical supplies their due reading.
- The television does not run on six D-cell batteries! How many Backyardigans a three year-old can watch over and over and over again is nothing short of mesmerizing. At some point, desperate and out-matched, I had no other means of stopping his television consumption. Is it possible, Great One, that 'no' does not mean 'no' to a three year old? Show me the way, but make me not remove my flat-panel 32" LCD HDTV and Verizon Fios with OnDemand and 400 hours of DVR storage.
- Need for Speed 2: Hot Putsuit is not an age-appropriate video-game for a three year old. "Dad, I got busted" is a sentence ladled with a disproportionate amount of toddler disrespect. May I work with my son and help him to curb his usage of such language. Let me teach him how to turn without crashing into a tree.
Humbly and contritely your servant ever,