“Officer Daddy” By Chris Zito

I’ve crossed over from just playmate into the dreaded land of the enforcer. My five-year old needs constant reminders of what is next and what we expect of him. I sound more and more like a cop dealing with a drunk than a sweet Daddy.


“Sir, is this your Bakugon on the floor? Sir?”

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“T-Ball Redux” By Chris Zito

Vince’s t-ball team has seven boys on it. Having volunteered to help out I showed up at the first practice found out there were four of us coaches. I offered to bow out, but the head coach said, “No, we need you.” He was right. Halfway through practice it struck me that we should probably recruit a few more parents.


This guy’s group is definitely easier to organize than seven 5-year-olds.

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“Quest For Johnny” By Chris Zito

Vince has moved on from Scooby-Do and has become obsessed with all things SpongeBob. There is much debate among parents over whether this is appropriate viewing for five year olds. After all, they protest, Squidward calls people bad names like “idiot” and “stupid.” But as I always point out to my son, Squidward is never happy, never really ever successful unless he accepts help. He’s not exactly a bad guy, but he reaps what he sows.


Is five too young to learn that some guys are just assholes?

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“Wall to Wall Bed” By Chris Zito

It’s been a few days since we got rid of our five-year old’s giant bed. His tiny room looks a much bigger. We didn’t intend for him to have a giant bed. We thought he’d be in a cute little kid’s bed at this point.


I suggested this bed, but Vince is more of a stock car guy than an Indy guy.

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“Zero to Playtime in No Seconds” By Chris Zito

“Daddy! This guy is an alien with four arms. Daddy. Look at the alien I made. Daddy!”
This statement is the first sound heard as I climb from a dead sleep into the early morning. My son Vince is in full play mode.


Who wouldn’t want to wake up to this guy every morning?

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“School Vacation. Bah. Humbug!” By Chris Zito

Things were much simpler for parents a generation (or two) ago. When there was no school, my mother didn’t worry about how to entertain us all day. This is how it went on a typical Saturday after breakfast.
“There’s the door. Be home for lunch.”
After lunch: “There’s the door. Be home for supper.”
After supper: “There’s the door. Be home when the street lights come on or your father will kill you.”


“Only three and half hours til I can go back in.”

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“Take Me!” by Chris Zito

When I was little my dad couldn’t head toward the door without being accosted by all of us kids.
“Daddy! Where are you going?”
“Can I go?”
“Take me!”
The poor guy couldn’t run out for smokes without a carload of us.


Oh boy, we’re going to pick up the dry cleaning!!! Yay!!!

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