The Father to His Calvin



Not long ago Landon came running into the bathroom as I dried my hair.

“Mom!” he yelled over the noise. “Where are toofbrushes made?”

“What?” I yelled back.

Where do the toofbrush makers make the toofbrushes?

“Why don’t you ask Dad, buddy,” I called back. “I’m busy.”

He spun on his heel and rushed into the bedroom where Lee was changing. I couldn’t hear the conversation over the hairdryer, but seconds later Landon came tearing back into the bathroom.


And then he disappeared as Lee collapsed in hysterical laughter. Score one for Dad.


Not long after that, I stood in the kitchen preparing dinner as Lee and the kids sat on the back porch.

“Daddy?” Tia asked, her voice all sugary and sweet. “How did you learn to pop your pecs?”

It could have been worse. She could have asked him how he learned to “wiggle his nipples,” which is what she and Landon said for a long time before we finally put a stop to it. It’s cute and funny in the comfort of your own home.  Crying out “Wiggle your nipples, Dad,” in the cereal aisle of the grocery store, however, is embarrassing and slightly inappropriate…

One of Lee’s better parenting tactics does indeed involve popping his pecs when things get tense or dicey around here. If arguments break out, he does a little pop here and there and suddenly everyone is laughing hysterically. Brilliant…

So they sat on the back porch and Tia wanted to know how he did it because for her life, she cannot make her pecs pop.

“Well, baby,” Lee answered, “I actually went to a special college to learn. It’s not something you should ever try unless you’ve been properly trained. There’s a special technique that you have to learn and it could be quite dangerous to try without being taught. That’s why I made sure I got a degree from the Pec Popping Institute of America.


Never a dull moment…


Do the dads in your life give brilliant, if slightly skewed, explanations for some of the workings of life?

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