my name is not Forest Whitaker

1/14/11

Currently Listening to
A) Thirteen by Big Star
B) Debaser by The Pixies
C) Rebellion by Arcade Fire
D) Karma Police by Radiohead
E) Dancing on the ceiling by Lionel Ritchie
F) I don't want to go night night by my three year old daughter
The answer is F and my three year old daughter is not the name of a cool new hipster indi band out of Boise, Idaho it's a living, breathing and at the moment screaming little girl in the living room. How did things get this way? just 30 minutes ago we were playing hide and seek and just 15 minutes ago we were building a "tower of power" out of blocks and things got this way because.... 3 year olds don't like it when you say "we're only going to play with one toy at a time." and "those pajamas are dirty." "it's time to go night-night." "it's mommy and daddy TV time." "knives are dangerous." "Lyndon Johnson was not impeached, it was Andrew Johnson." "I don't care if you think ketchup and cookies go together it's revolting." I named this blog the Piggyback Counselor because I'm a dad that gives safe but enjoyable piggyback rides and during the week i work as a counselor and somebody stole my idea to cook a different Julia Child recipe every night and write about how it goes.
Other blog names I was considering were
1) I got Peanut Butter in my hair again
2) Your only overweight from your ankles up
3) Who doesn't like Bea Arthur
4) My heart is wheelchair accessible (runner-up)
5) If you take my wallet I'll take your poster of the movie Police Academy starring Steve Gutenberg
6) Who eats waffles at a Chinese buffet
7) My poop looks like a Ferris wheel
8) Tuesday's with a fella convicted not guilty by reasons of insanity
9) The scar on my knee I got from sliding on a carpet
10) What's funnier than a monkey in a diaper
So I decided on the piggyback counselor (feel free to give me feedback on if you liked the above names better) and what you may ask happened to the crying 3 yr old in the living room? well she's upstairs in her bed dreaming about unicorns and rainbows just like a young and old Micheal Jackson did. And because I'm such a quality husband/dad/counselor and moonshine distributor I knew if i removed myself from the situation and started a blog, by the time i was through the situation would work itself out. (It doesn't hurt that I type 9 words per minute) Now I will go downstairs to thank my very pregnant wife and give her a much needed foot rub, while she eats a bucket of ribs and watches What Not To Wear. I might not be Forest Whitaker but who is?