So you’re at your folk’s house for Christmas or Hanukkah and you guys all finished opening presents and now are moving into the coffee-and-relax portion of the night. But people are excited to play with their new stuff, and it’s not that easy. It’s never that easy. Especially if your kid is the one hammering you to get their new toy operational.
“Bug-out bags” are kits people make to survive in the wilderness for a couple of days. They have little items you need to survive the elements, and if there’s one element you need to survive for the next week, it’s holiday family gift exchanges. Also, bear attacks.
The problem with being so kick-ass is that business as usual gets forgotten. Case in point: my son dressed as Captain America to see Santa and it was incredible. But in all the hubbub, Santa never asked what he wanted for Christmas.
There was a moment of near-tears. But I reminded my son that he can write Santa a letter and we’ll mail it off.
I know I wrote about this back at Easter time (and ew, so few posts ago), but it’s worth saying again: I love that my son son dresses up like a superhero to see Santa every year, and I love that it’s something we do together.
(Disclosure: I’m a Nintendo Ambassador and they sent me an NES Classic Edition to play with. Boom!)
Sup, nerds. It’s been great walking among the people, but the truth is that for years, I’ve been hiding my true identity, and I think it’s finally time you know it.
The truth is, I’m Z-Ro, the last Nintendo Game Counselor. Born in the 80s, honed by playing with power until I bled pixels. By the time the Nintendo Power Line faded away, I had gone into hiding with nothing but an NES and a dream that one day I may use my power again. That day, friends, is today.
There can only be one, baby, and I’m it! Cowabunga!
I’m standing over my son’s bed, and I start crying. I think: he’s alive.
It’s a weird emotion for me. My wife and son were in a car accident today coming home from school. Everyone was okay. The car wasn’t. People lived, items didn’t. It worked out how it was supposed to. But my seven-year-old is scared. He’s waking up as soon as he falls asleep. He’s crying because he’s scared. “I want momma,” his voice cracks.
“Momma’s got to sleep too,” I answer. “She was also in the car accident and she’s hurt too. You both need to rest.”
Adult coloring books are hot these days, but this one by Kenny Keil is more than a book where you’re fine-point coloring complicated line drawings of majestic hawks. This is …
The internet is aflame with the Cheerio Challenge, a game where dads have been stacking Cheerios on their sleeping babies’ heads. There’s a zero percent change you haven’t seen this, because the story’s been covered by The Huffington Post, The TODAY Show, Buzzfeed, Mashable, and it’s appeared on Facebook‘s trending stories.
As we wait in line to see the Easter Bunny, the reactions to my son are varied: some parents (especially those with new babies) just don’t get it. Parents of older kids chuckle and smile, point while they think we’re not looking, and when I do make eye contact, they smile and give me the knowing-dad-nod. Sometimes they walk by my son and say “cool!” Kids in line tug at their moms’ dresses and wonder why they’re in their Sunday’s best and my son is dressed like Wolverine.
As another little boy walks by and stares, my six year old says in a gravely voice, “happy Easter, bub.”
The new normal is that brands are showing fathers as competent, caring, emotional and intelligent. They’re part of the family unit, no longer relegated to the hungry animal blasting in the door from work, ready to eat, have a beer and tune out. The image of fathers in commercials has matured (we won!), and because of it, commercial dads are cooking, cleaning and raising kids. It’s great.
One of the brands that’s consistently put out great dadvertising — Zillow — is back again. The real estate website has a spot on TV right now called “Gunnar’s Home”, and it tackles a non-traditional household with grace and respect.