It's About Damn Time, You Little Jerk...

Oh, you think I'm going to crap myself over you finally, FINALLY saying "Dada" today? You think so? No, little man, crapping one's self is more of a you thing. Besides, apparently this new word of yours wasn't as important as the following tricks:

First Tooth: did that on July 2nd. Grandmas were happy. Me? Not impressed at all. You didn't even appreciate the Jameson and Sons we used to help when the teething was at its worst. Man, all you did was grow those things. I had to mark the date in my head for a month and a half.

First Word: "Mama." You said that on July 16th. I spent ten minutes helping you trim "mamamamamamamamama" into two syllables, making your mother very happy. Me? Well I've been saying mama since at least my 16th birthday, which was 13 years before I MADE YOU FROM MY SEED!!! And you didn't even say thank you.

First Ice Cream: August 5th. Chocolate Marshmallow from Tasti-d-Lite on 7th Ave. in Brooklyn, between 9th and 10th streets. One day you will totally melt some girl's panties by taking her there and dropping this adorable little story (play up the bit about bouncing in your little stroller with delight) after buying her a frozen treat. YOU ARE WELCOME.

First celebrity meeting: August 7th. Will Leitch. He thought you were so cute that he said something to me before I said anything to him. You may impress the creme de la creme of sports bloggers-turned-legitimate writers, but I for one don't give a crap. BTW: We were at Lowlands bar. Bars in Park Slope are cool because you can bring the baby along. Sweet. Keep that in mind if you find yourself becoming a dad on the east coast.

So, here it is, the summer winding down, and now you finally feel like throwing your old man a bone, and you think that all will be great with me?

You are right. Now please stop calling the dog "dada."