My 4 year son old Art Show USA was born on New Years Day. So, he’ll never be hard pressed to recruit boys out on his birthday. Before the inevitable last minute desperate dash toward whatever non-hoarded around muff in attendance.
My son’s real name is Arthur Morrison Kornbluth. Your move Judd Apatow. That’s right, you were blessed with too overly heady, nerdy girls. Google death was funny though. Albert Brooks saved This is 40 from being passable as a comedy film Woody.
So my son’s name Arthur Morrison Kornbluth is fitting because he was born in the true spirit of f you parental rebellion. After my dad urged me to refrain from having more after Matilda. Enjoy more Indian Summers in Arizona without us pops.
Arthur was the only planned baby of my 3 but certainly not in the wholesome loving sense. My dad says on my birthday. Don’t have a 2nd kid. I can’t afford it. I pulverize my wife’s vagina 2 hours later. Now Art Show is 5 in 11 hours.
Art Show USA was the easiest birth ever and he’s a a dreamboat existence since. He slipped out of mama easier than I do from behind her doggy style 3 kids later. Paging Doc Hollywood. Vag Tighten up in aisle 1.
After I had Arthur, I remember my dad saying. Coaching you in basketball is a great memory of mine. Strangling my self-esteem like a non-touchy feely Bobby Knight by calling me a soft pussy constantly did wonders for my self-esteem also.
No he’s my daddy screams, I’ll be in no rush to join a Fraternity to prove my manhood to strangers in baseball hats. Who can’t wait to exact revenge on pledges because they wanted easy access to fresh off the press puss.
No he’s my daddy, means, he doesn’t give me middling, less slovenly, sloppy seconds treatment compared to virtual grandparents on both sides of the bare minimum grandparents divide.
When Arthur and Matilda fought over dad ownership rights as I tucked them both in. By each one out pronouncing each other. No he’s my daddy. No he’s my daddy. I felt like Hugh Hefner minus the mansion, sex life and cashmere slippers.
It’s very flattering to have your 2 kids fight over ownership rights of you. No, he’s my daddy, no he’s my daddy. I think it’s safe to say I don’t have a future Magic Mike or girl from the Fallen Angel video on my hands yet either.
To hear my son say, no he’s my daddy screams, back off big sis. I hate girls being 1st. I don’t care what NPR says.