Preschool Graduation: just like watching an episode of the Muppet Show except with lots of crying!

And it wasn’t the parents doing the crying. 

My son graduated preschool yesterday, which is a little bittersweet, because it still amazes me how fast the time just flew by with the second child. Sometimes I just stare at him and think, “whoa little man - when did you get so tall? And how did you beat that FRAMED game on your iPad all by yourself? I can’t even do that. ”

I must admit preschool graduations have to be one of the most entertaining events on planet earth. I nearly forgot as the last one I’ve been to was around 5 years ago when my daughter graduated.

Kids walking out, all confused, waving at parents, making weird faces, pretending to poop/fart in the air. Then there’s always that one that refuses to walk out standing with her arms crossed looking angry like somebody just told said she couldn’t have any candy ever again, or a unicorn, while the teacher is bent over trying to negotiate just like arms treaty with communist Russia.

Hopefully, quiet and calm gets the job done.

While all of the kids were singing the infamous, “kindergarten here we come” song one girl stood at the end crying for her mom to take her home ‘now.' The kid next to her turned his entire body and stood quietly to just *stare* at her while the other kids were singing in the same key William Hung but with the energy and stamina of Beyonce’. 

For a moment I thought a giant hook was going to appear off the side of the stage and pull her away. 

When it was all over my son got a little upset about never going to school there ever again. Hard to believe this was the same kid which 2 hours earlier didn’t want to go to preschool because he would rather play baseball in the backyard instead. 

He took pictures with his friends and on the way out, ran away from us to hug his teacher, Miss Julie. He told her that he would "miss her forever" in a dramatic tone that sounded like she was about to die - she was even taken back a bit. 

Then he ran back to us and calmly asked if we could get stop and ice cream on the way home. 

Explaining Taxes to Kids

Today, “tax day”, has to be my absolute least favorite day of the year.

I’ve loathed taxes since the late 80’s when I was around 16 years old. That’s the time when I got my first minimum wage paycheck after working nearly two weeks straight one summer.
I still remember that mysterious sealed blank white envelope. I ran home, smelled it, tore the thing open in excitement, held the magical piece of paper in the air in the direction of the sun to see the beautiful watermark (“Official Document”) only to be completely traumatized at how much the government and something called “FICA” took out. The check was less than $17.

That was the first day I truly swore. Not for minutes, but for days. Nothing cheered me up, not even my newly acquired Depeche Mode 101 CD.

Then being the good kid that I was, I listened to my great-grandmother (she lived through the great depression) and opened a savings account getting a paltry .002% interest rate. Honestly I think I had a better chance earning more by planting pennies in the ground and praying for rain on a leap year.
Given the unfortunate circumstances, I still somehow happened to earn something like $5 that year. And then months later I got something called a 1099 telling me that I was subject to taxes on the $5 bucks that I earned. That’s the year I started lending money to kids on the playground and charging a 30% interest with a pre-payment penalty "off-the-books." I didn’t ask for that life, taxes made me do it.

Yes, my contempt for taxes started early.

Please don’t try to tell me why taxes are good because you’ll be wrong. I’ve heard just about every reason why taxes are a respectable thing, “how are we going to pay for the sun?” “Taxes! That’s how!”
Honestly, at this point. I really don’t care. Ask me that when I’m all pale and begging, “I need sun! I need sun!” Maybe I’ll care then, but right now if I were on Facebook for real, I would be no fan of the IRS.

If I ever do get the opportunity to start my own country (the one with a planned KFC franchise on it) the first thing I would order, besides a double-down, is not to tax everything in the world. I would be a fair dictator and just tax the things I’m not fond of, like, Kevin Costner movies and Justin Bieber.

Tonight, while writing a check to pay even more taxes my daughter asked me, “Daddy? Why are you crying?” I replied, “Because if I don’t pay even more taxes, these really bad people called ‘the IRS’ will send me to Guantanamo Bay.”

You Can’t Have a Boyfriend in Preschool

I knew something was strange when I picked up my daughter from school and as she was giggling hysterically. When I smiled and asked what was so funny - thinking I would get an answer like some silly picture she drew or maybe some game she had been playing - I didn’t expect to hear this:

Daughter: “Guess who I’m thinking of?”

Who? Ariel? Mommy? Daddy? …Lionel Richie?

Daughter: “MARCUS” (followed by her giggles and those of 3 friends)

“Marcus?” And they were all looking at the new boy in the corner of the room playing with Thomas trains COMPLETELY unaware of the groupies not far away.

Daughter: “He can BREAKDANCE!”

Friend #1: “Yeah! And we all like him like the way Gabrielle likes Troy!” (group giggles)

Whatchu-talkin’bout?!

Does anybody know of a cave I can live in with my family for about 18 years or so? Preferably one with no TV and no other preschoolers with parents that allowed them to watch High School Musical, iCarly, Hannah Montana, The Hills and maybe Twilight.

I just can't get over how kids this young watch these shows. They're watching things they don't understand and shouldn't be exposed to for at least another 25-30 years.

On the drive home my daughter and I had a long conversation about boys and how they should be considered yucky at her age, and about giving me a heart-attack before I turn 40; About having friends, staying a kid, and about how she isn’t allowed to date until she’s married.
You know, typical conversation material one usually has with a 4-year old.

I think she understood. But to be sure, I made her a coloring page just to reiterate my message:

"You can't date until you're married" coloring page

Once she's colored it, I'm hanging it on her cubby at school just as a reminder.

Distinguished Guest Speaker Series – Preschool Edition

I’ve been doing speaking engagements at schools, on occasion, for about 10 years now talking primarily about what I do at my day job.
The art portion, not blogging (nobody wants to hear about that.)

Over the years I’ve had my share of audiences. Generally speaking, Elementary school aged kids are by far the best to present to. You show them some cool art, do a little talking while waving the arms around, tell a few jokes here and there, and 9 out of 10 times they give you a standing ovation like you’re Johnny Depp, or Chewbacca, tossing candy bars and live Ewoks into the audience.
Junior High kids? I don’t know what their deal is. They look all zoned out most of the time. Maybe they can’t wait to get their cell phones back to text the kid they’re sitting next to about “Twilight”, or they’re all on crack from watching too much “Twilight.” I’m not sure.
High school kids are oddly a mixture of the two described above, but they ask stupid questions if you let them like “what kind of car do you drive?”

To which I always answer “A really nice El Camino that can get me to the nearest KFC.”

So imagine my interest when the ‘head governess’ of my daughter’s school asked me if I wanted to speak to the entire Pre-K program? I couldn’t wait.
Now if you know 4-5 year olds then you know they have the attention span of a fly particularly when they’re in groups and have to sit quietly while watching somebody speak and especially if you’re not holding up a book and asking them to tell a Pigeon “NO!”
Or if you’re not a Transformer, Ninja, or Princess.

I dashed through the art, waved my hands around, made some silly jokes, and then asked if anybody had any questions about what I do or what they had just seen.

About 40 kids raised their hands at once.

Some of the “questions” (names changed to protect identities but to describe the kid):

Fancy Nancy – My neighbor’s dog, he bites on his leg EVERY MORNING…and my mom makes pancakes for me! (insert big smile)
Dora – If a bee bites somebody, they can DIE. (insert big smile)
Diego – When I was little, I sawed this show on TV and this robot ate a monkey and then my grandpa buyed me and my sister McDonalds and then...(confused look staring at the ground)
Smurfette – Unicorns and Ponies aren’t really real. (serious look)
Ni Hao, Kai-Lan – There’s a tiny mouse on the computer that shakes his booty like this. (gets up and shakes her bottom. All kids laugh)
Handy Manny – I can whistle. (starts to whistle while spraying/spitting on the kids around him)
Princess Sunshine Sparkles Fairy Ballerina Mermaid (aka, my daughter) – Daddy, can I go home early? (serious look)

I said yes and then we drove in the El Camino to the nearest KFC.

Well not really. I don’t own an El Camino.

“What I Want To Be When I Grow Up”

No, this isn’t my list. I already know what I want to be when I grow up: Mr. T. Or a king/dictator/emperor of a small island in the pacific with a KFC franchise.

The weekend was fun as it was just my daughter and I while the wife was busy at some workshop for her MBA program. We spent most of the time drawing, painting, swimming, playing video games, and watching movies – we FINALLY saw that Monster’s Vs Aliens movie in 3D. I was disappointed as it was totally overrated. When the credits rolled my daughter turned to me and said in a serious voice “the monster movie wasn’t that good.”
Happy to know she has good taste. Well, not that good since she still likes that ‘Kidz Bops’ music.

Anyhow, I can’t even begin to explain how much I love spending time with just her. It’s not to say that I don’t enjoy spending time with both my wife and daughter – I do. It’s just my wife doesn’t jump up and down, yell in excitement and start clapping when I say things like “let’s play video games!” or “let’s go get some popcorn chicken…and play video games!”

Generally I’ll get an unfavorable stare.

Some of the conversations with my daughter can get pretty interesting because usually she’ll have an answer and opinion for just about everything from her 3-year old point of view. Celebrities (Oso, Elmo, and Hannah Montana all wear too much makeup), politics (Princesses just need to keep dancing on the Earth), the housing crisis (make them all pink) and yesterday she spent most of the day telling me what she wants to be when she grows up. Here are a few:

Truck (Pink, but can sometimes be Purple)
Butterfly
Order taking lady at Wendy’s
Princess Ariel
Duck (Pink one)
A mountain with clouds
A nice bumblebee with a pink truck
Souplantation
Fairy with a sparkly elevator
Kitty cat haircutter and doctor
Ballerina that can fly with a wand
Unicorn with a pink truck
Guacamole

In my view, she can be anything she wants to be. Except maybe guacamole.

Teaching Good Habits - with Coloring Pages

I’m convinced there’s no difference between Preschools, 3rd world countries, and Chinese restaurants in the San Fernando Valley.
In the last 3 weeks we’ve been through 3 lice epidemics, a chicken pox plague, and then to top it all off -- a kid with “hand, foot, and mouth” disease.

We’ve always heard stories from other parents through the years about this stuff, but never imagined it would happen to us. Essentially because the place she’s at is no ordinary preschool; it’s one of those fancy ones that took us nearly 4 years to get her in there (she's 3.) The teacher ratio is 1:7, they all have Ph.D's and BVD's, write books for Oprah, yoga 12 times a day to work, don't eat anything that casts a shadow, and speak something like 38 languages – fluently.
Everybody knows diseases are afraid of the over-educated and Oprah. Apparently not anymore.

What drives me crazy is that all of this is totally preventable if every kid just did 1 simple thing – washed his or her hands especially after using the bathroom. And practicing other good hygiene habits too like taking baths and listening to the adults when they tell them not to pick their nose/butt, throw sand in their hair, share lollipops, gum, things on the floor, chewed food, etc.

The problem is that preschoolers are just plain disgusting in packs and something needs to be done.
That’s where I come in.

I solve problems.

That’s my job.

Because that’s how I roll.

It’s obvious from my potty training color pages (the most popular post on my blog - still) that kids learn best when they color and are fearful.
I present to you... my latest creations: (Click each to download)

"Every time you pick your nose, a Fairy dies. Don't kill any more Fairies!" -coloring page

"Don't give mommy and daddy a reason to sell you to a factory in China. Be a good listener." -coloring page

"Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease hurts! Wash your hands after using the potty." -coloring page

"Aliens eat smelly kids. Take a bath." -coloring page

Preschoolers and Politics on the Playground

Today as I picked up my daughter from preschool, I held the door open for a mom picking up her little girl who happened to be wearing a t-shirt of a presidential candidate.
As her daughter ran up and hugged her she had asked, “Did you tell your friends about who you’re voting for?”

Are you joking?

The girl is 3. If I had to guess, I’d say Cinderella, Spongebob, or maybe DeeDee Doodle

Since I’m relatively new and only 3 years into the parenting world I ask you fellow parents -- do parents normally use their preschoolers to campaign? Or maybe you yourself do it? Or maybe you’re just as bothered by it as me.

And for the record, I don’t care who any of you vote for. I’ll still like you the day after elections, even if it’s not my choice. Everybody has personal opinions; ideals, whatever, and I fully respect that.
But using a preschooler to shamelessly wear something for the parents’ viewpoint and using them as a campaign placard for something they just don’t understand troubles me.

My daughter’s new t-shirt just arrived yesterday...
And yes, she does understand the meaning of 11 herbs and spices.

Old School, Preschool, and Colonel Sanders

My daughter started preschool this morning and it did not go as I had envisioned...

She being nervous while packing lunch, difficulty getting dressed, walking her to the classroom with her hand clenching mine, huge puppy eyes and tears as I’m about to leave, screaming “Daddy! Daddy! Don’t leave me… I love you!!” as I walked away quickly, but maybe stopping a few times waving and whispering “I love you too, now go back to your classroom and learn the proper use of safety scissors...” as I backed into and disappeared in a fog with Obi-Wan Kenobi and Dean Martin patting me on the back assuring me that I am a good dad.

That's what I expected. In reality it went something like this:

Packing lunch – “No…I want to do it all BY MYSELF!”
Dressing - “No…I want to do it all BY MYSELF!”
In the car pulling up to the school “Drop me off…O.K…I see you later O.K!”

Uh no! I’m walking to your classroom and I BETTER SEE TEARS WHEN I LEAVE!!!!

I can just imagine what kindergarten is going to be like; she’ll probably end up telling me to drop her off down the street.

Happy Birthday To The Man That Invented Chicken in a Bucket!

And to think I almost forgot... thankfully some cool folks reminded me.

It’s hard to imagine, but prior to the birth of Harland David Sanders in 1890 nobody even thought about putting fried chicken in a bucket.

It wasn’t until his 3rd birthday on a farm in Henryville, Indiana while packing lunch for his first day preschool that he told his father, General Sanders, “Father General, I would like the pleasure of preparing my own meal for today’s schooling. Sir.”
When his father of little words nodded in agreement, young Harland instantly put 14 pieces of fried chicken with 11 herbs and spices in a red, white, and black cardboard bucket.

And then with his chicken bucket and Princess backpack in hand, his dad took young Sanders to school.

And he didn't even acknowledge his father as he walked away from his classroom - not even a wave.

And his father was so upset that he didn't want to eat fried chicken anymore. But then he got over it and went through the drive-thru anyways.

What Guys Want On Valentines Day And Parental Valentine Preschool Pressure

What do the women want today? $80 Flowers (that normally go for $12 any other day, like tomorrow, but we buy anyway), romantic poems (thank God for the internet), expensive jewelry (that doesn't have ‘cubic’ in the name), flat-screen plasma TV in the bathroom (well, not really, that’s just a really cool idea...)
Men are easy. We just want the women to show up naked with food – preferably a bucket of KFC (the 'spicy' kind.)
I actually created something sentimental for my wife today, which took some time to make and I can't reveal just in case she reads this.


Today a co-worker came into work a few hours late looking like her car exploded with her in it. She’s a fellow parent with 2 kids, one about the same age as my daughter and a son who is 3 or 4.
When she took her son to preschool this morning one of the teachers had asked, “Where are his Valentines? All of the kids NEED to bring Valentines for everybody…”
Nobody said anything, no warning note, nothing (she skipped that chapter in the handbook, the one on "Valentines for preschoolers".) She then grabbed her son, got into the car and headed to the local Walgreens where the only Valentines left were Care-Bears and Dora (her son wanted Spider-Man and cried because they were out or they don't exist.) She then spent some time writing all the kids names on the cards (all 40-something) in the parking lot of the preschool. When she showed up with her crying son there were other parents walking in with fancy little hand-tied bags of candies and cookies with little homemade cards, along with fancy gifts (flowers, baskets, Versace bags, etc.) for the teachers and assistants.

When she was finished I said:
“When your kid is in prison at 17, it’s because of this.”
And then handed her a handmade goodie bag of truffles and filet mignon (...I wish.) I am not looking forward to 'the school' years.