NickMom — This list is probably only relevant to Danica Patrick but hey you NEVER KNOW.
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7. The lactation consultant would also sell funnel cakes.
3. Birth would immediately followed by me thanking Jiffy Lube for all their support.
Read the full list at NickMom.
I was once on a 727 from Indianapolis to Raleigh-Durham that did this exact same thing
GateHouse — Having just returned from an Air Show — I can prove it, see look, my hat still smells like a Harrier — I can report with great certainty that American air shows are basically NASCAR events situated vertically, with somewhat fewer people named Kvapil.
This is because, first and foremost, they are awesome. I don’t mean they’re awesome like I’m a huge follower of NASCAR — in fact, all I know is that basically everything is won by Kyle Busch and Tony Stewart and Home Depot broke up recently, possibly over sheet rock — or that I’m planning to become a full on funnel-cake-and-camouflage-t-shirt rocking Blue Angels nerdface. I mean awesome in the sense that air shows are free, they feature loud planes doing bitchin’ things and they allow you to drink beer on a Marine base. What a country.
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Def Leppard – Let’s Get Rocked
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NASCAR driver Greg Biffle, if you see my first-grader on the playground, you might want to watch your back.
GateHouse — It’s a static, shatterproof rule of parenting that, purely through nature and momentum, you will endeavor to pass on to your children your own interests and activities, either by grand design or subconscious manipulation, and yes I am looking at you, Couple Who Brought Your Four Grade-School Children To The Van Halen Concert In 2005, Seriously, That’s Shockingly Irresponsible, Mostly Because It Was A Hagar Tour, I Mean Roth I Can Justify, But The “Dreams” Guy Really What Are You Thinking? (I might also mention you, Juggalo Parent Nation.)
It follows then that there’s an equally static, shatterproof rule that there will be things you reflexively shield your kids from, strive to help them avoid at all costs, such as ignorance or prejudice, or badminton, or country music. Ha! I’m just kidding, of course. Badminton’s not that bad.
For instance, my son to this day has no idea that Radio Disney exists; not because I don’t think he’d enjoy it, but because like many six-year-olds he is quick to adopt MANIACAL OBSESSIONS regarding media absorption, and frankly the vaguest possibility of having to listen to Radio Disney even in the briefest, three-minute squirts made me begin dreaming up ways to remove my eyes with a potato peeler, so, long story short, my son’s world is a glorious Jonas-free wonderland, and this is how it shall remain.
But the thing is, I say that now, and I can have the best intentions, but at some point you have to release your child into the world, which is full of friends and stores and outside influences and classmates with Radio Disney backpacks. And when that happens, things begin spiraling faster and faster and time speeds up and up and before long you lose your grip on whatever thin filaments of control you might have hoped to have and then you find yourself watching a NASCAR race on a Sunday afternoon because your son — who, according to our earlier law, is supposed to be into Springsteen, running, “Weird Al” Yankovic and maintaining the rigidly beautiful organization of his iTunes library — is turning into a surprisingly knowledgeable juicebox-downing NASCAR fan. It is likely too late to change his name to Darrell, but don’t think I haven’t thought about it.
Download: aDQd3t
Kyle Busch, or possibly Dale D. Daleington, dances on a car
GateHouse — The air-quotes sport of NASCAR has never, for many reasons, appealed to me. I’m not really into cars, or deafening rackets, or thick brown clouds of fume, or stickers trumpeting the greatness of cereal companies and auto-parts superstores or cleaning solutions, or people named Dale, or funnel cakes. OK, I’m lying. I’m very much into funnel cakes. Actually, if it came down to it I’d gladly live for three weeks inside a cochlea-shattering speedway packed tight with tire chunks and Dales if I could get regular access to beer and funnel cakes because, if you haven’t guessed already, I’m sort of obsessed with my health.
But like millions of other things, my NASCAR-free lifestyle was something I subscribed to before I had a child, back when I got to select — all by myself — the events and pastimes to which I would donate my time.
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Download: cFEouH
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I'm a a writer for such outlets as Men's Health, South Magazine, Nickelodeon's NickMom.com, Billboard, brucespringsteen.net and Paste, a syndicated humor columnist for GateHouse and a father of two (the younger of whom has been personally approved by Bruce Springsteen) on the coast of South Carolina. Even longer bio/clips.
