When I posted a collage of images showing us with the boys at the Whiskey, I said I’d explain later. We were there to see our friends’ daughter perform with her band as part of a band camp graduation-type thing. And she killed it.
The other thing that happened was Wyatt totally spazzed out. Not in a bad way, but he clearly enjoyed the show and the club. He kept dancing, climbing, grabbing the hands of strangers and dancing more (gotta quell that fast).
So… I guess Wyatt’s drawn to club gigs… Oh, dear.
Jesus Christ. I hope these are legit because some of these are raising FABULOUS questions.
you know, my mom told me that when i was little i used to tell her recurring tidbits of a linear series of events from “when i was older”
she mentioned me pointing an old man and getting really excited and saying “hey that man was my student when i used to teach piano!” in a situation, or saying “you know i like you more than my other mom, she was so mean” and my personal favourite is the one where i said “i used to have a gilrfriend once, you know, we were on my motorcyle and i lost control and fell off a cliff on the roadside, i really hope she’s okay”
Children are scary as fuck.
I need to stay away
Wasn’t there a post going around about how maybe the ‘Light at the end of the Tunnel’ that people go to when they die is the opening of the womb when we’re born? And we gradually forget our previous lives as we grow older? Because that post combined with this post scares the living crap outta me.
Just now, Boone and I were in the boys’ room as I helped him get dressed to play outside.
He said, “We’re not alone in here.”
"Who else is here?" I asked.
He said, “Your grandma.”
Both of my grandmothers died years ago. A lot of people might find this a beautiful sign of love from the afterlife.
I’m totally creeped out by it.
And now, we have to move.
They said they were cowboys. I said they were more like rodeo clowns.
(Yes, I know rodeo clowns are actually badasses. But, they don’t.)
The gist of every conversation I have with my son Wyatt.
(photo set via josephgordonlevitts)
I don’t get home from work until 7pm each night, which means I have just an hour or two to spend with the boys.
I used to wish I had more time to work on my projects and to relax. Now, I wish I had more time to spend with my kids.
Yet, I continue to work my ass off so that one day I won’t have to work my ass off. And that day, my boys and I will build the most incredible Hot Wheels track in the history of the universe.
The other day, our son Wyatt did something heroic.
At school, one of his friends started beating up another kid. Apparently, the kid was on the ground and Wyatt’s friend was throwing punches. (For the record, I know the puncher and he’s a good kid, not a bully.)
Wyatt ran up, pulled his friend off the kid and got between them. He told his friend to stop. Once everyone had calmed down, he went and informed the teacher.
We try to teach our boys empathy, sympathy, to do the right thing. But, stepping into a fight to break it up—he landed on that himself. That’s something he’s always had.
He’s weird, opinionated, spazzy and probably the perfect hero for Los Angeles.
- You’ll find this image atop The Daddy Complex Facebook page.
- You probably won’t see it at The Daddy Complex Instagram page, but there’s other stuff there.
- You’ll also find other stuff by following The Daddy Complex on Twitter.
- And though I haven’t used it much lately, there are puppet videos at The Daddy Complex YouTube channel.
- Oh, and you can find me on Vine at @thedaddycomplex.