There is Going to be a New Man in the House. Well, Almost a Man.

It’s official.

My daughter’s 8th birthday dream has come true. Her dream…a dog.pp-blog-web-ashton

Not clothes, or a new bike, or even a vacation to Disneyland in Orlando… or Disneyworld… I can’t remember which is which.

Of course, this is her dream, not ours.

Her mom and I have lived through the dog stage(s) in our lives and now enjoy the freedom that comes with not having a dog.

Our only child doesn’t seem to understand these freedoms.

Kids these days.

My dreams are simpler. Like more naps. Or more time to nap.

She seems to think that she has her whole life ahead of her and wants to experience different things (including smooching on a dog).

I am happy to help provide her with these things; I just need to know if I will be able to work in a nap before, or at least after these experiences.

My daughter is very patient, but she wants a dog. And she wants it now.

Me. I want her to have a dog, but when it’s warmer outside. And soccer and softball are over. And as soon as we have finished our vacation.

And when she has graduated college and lives in her own home.

After much discussion, she got her way. I am starting to see a pattern in our discussions, but that is another blog.

She says she deserves a dog, because she is an only child. I have offered to get her a brother and a sister, but she doesn’t want them touching her stuff.

Evidently, she prefers a dog laying, slobbering, and shedding on her stuff.

She also wants a dog that will watch TV with her, walk her to church, and lay on the driveway while she shoots baskets.

Oh, I about forgot. She really wants a dog that will lie beside her bed when she is sick.

She doesn’t want her mom or dad when she isn’t feeling well, she prefers a 4 legged beast with big ears and questionable hygiene habits.

After searching (and procrastinating) for several months, we have finally found our new family member.

And when I say family member, I really mean new King of the Household.

I think we have made a good choice. We debated on saving a dog from the pound, which we have done in the past, or buying from a registered breeder.

Turns out we got the best of both worlds.

We found a year and a half old beagle through a breeder. He needs a home because while he was a show dog, he outgrew that job, literally.

So to go along with my unemployed daughter, I now have an unemployed dog.

Little does he know that he has hit the doggy lottery.

He is leaving a kennel of 40 hard-working show dogs to move in with us. He will now spend his days watching Nickelodeon, eating treats, and getting his belly rubbed.

This is one lucky boy. He is about to live the life I used to have.

The only downside for him (there are lots of downsides for me) he has to visit the vet before he can move in with us.

For the “procedure”.

Yes, that procedure.

The vet is going to rip his manhood away from him.

As a guy, I feel badly for him. Not the best way for us to start our relationship, but I can’t have him spreading his manliness all over the neighborhood.

So in 2 weeks, the new man of the house will be here. Well, part of a man.

And I will be moving down the family pecking order. That’s the bad news.

The good news… MY manhood is still fully intact.

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My Days as the Main Man Are Numbered.

Let the Countdown Begin...For some mysterious reason, there seems to be more interest in my blog when I write about my family than when I write about educational issues.

I do my best to write different types of blogs in the hope that I can keep all 12 readers interested (yes, the Blog continues to grow by 2 or 3 people a year).

My writing style seems to make “editor” types nervous (and by style I mean… actually, I have no idea what I mean because I have no idea what I am doing).

They tell me that the posts for Blog are “all over the place.” One is about my distaste for soccer, another about New Year’s resolutions, then it’s about NCLB, and finally I am giving advice to new principals (unwanted and unasked for advice….but advice none the less).

This blog seems to confuse people with English degrees. I think they would understand it better if they didn’t spend so much time reading books.

While they are confused, the truth is…so am I (maybe I need to read more books… or any books for that matter).

But that’s okay because total confusion is all part of life in education. When you work in a school and you are trying to help raise hundreds of kids, life can get hectic.

But, it’s manageable.

Just as long as you take the job seriously, but not yourself.

Just when I think my life couldn’t get any more hectic, my wife schedules 87 more workshops, my daughter wants to invite 34 girls to her birthday party (bowling… what could possibly go wrong??), and I find myself cruising the internet late at night for cute puppies (this is not a metaphor… my daughter is getting a dog… or I am, time will tell).

Don’t get me wrong. I am not complaining. Lots of families are busier than we are.

They just don’t have a blog to complain about it.

It has taken me 13 paragraphs to get to my point of this blog (maybe the “editor” types are actually on to something).

Lately, I have been busy. So when my daughter told me I was going to spend a Saturday night taking her to a Daddy-Daughter “Main Man” Dance, I did what every clear thinking father would do.

I lied.

Said I was busy. She said I wasn’t.

I said I couldn’t go because I would have the flu that night. She said I was going.

I said I wouldn’t because I am not her real father. She said that since she looks just like me, I was her father and we were going.

My wife didn’t say anything. She was too busy planning her free Saturday night without either of us.

So I gave in and decided to go. I really didn’t have a choice since she had already picked out my suit and tie (black suit, silver tie… I was a vision of handsomeness…).

When we arrived at the dance, I was pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t that bad. Plus as an added bonus, lots of dads looked far more miserable than I did.

We had dinner, desert, and danced.

Slow danced, not fast (I have the rhythm of a middle-aged white guy… actually, it isn’t that good).

As we danced she thanked me for taking her.

If I was sentimental, this would have warmed my heart.

As we concluded the last slow dance, she started to cry. I asked her what was wrong but she wouldn’t tell me.

I chalked it up to a little girl being tired after a long day.

As we headed home, she finally told me what was making her sad.

She thought the dance went by too fast. She said she wanted to spend more time with her “Main Man”.

I am still not sentimental, but that was nice. Very nice.

Now I have a feeling that in the not so distant future, I will be the one thinking that things have gone by way too fast.

And I will be wishing I was still her main man.

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You Never Forget Your First Love. Especially if He is a Waiter.

This Cartoon Actually Looks Like the Real Waiter.This past weekend I had the unfortunate experience of seeing my daughter’s heart broken for the first time.

She was absolutely crushed and there was nothing I could do about it. As a parent, this is a totally helpless feeling.

You want to jump to your child’s defense, but then you realize that there isn’t much that you can really do.

This was also my first experience as being totally worthless as a dad (alright, not my first but I am trying to make a point here).

The look on her face of total and complete sadness was enough to break my heart.

I know 7 year old girls get their feelings crushed, but I always assumed it involved a dog running away, losing their favorite blanket, or a best friend moving to another town.

But not my daughter.


She doesn’t do things in a normal fashion.

When she does something it is all out (unless you count running or cleaning her room… then best case she gives you a solid 65%… on a good day).

Her first broken heart was brought to her by a waiter at a Mexican restaurant. She should have just gotten a side of rice.

We have gone to this restaurant many times. By my guesstimate about 674 days (although not in a row… not that I haven’t suggested that). Of course, this is only a rough guess. It may have
been many more.

During these trips my daughter looked forward to seeing her favorite waiter, Jose.

If she got lucky, we sat in Jose’s section and they would visit.

They seemed to understand each other considering neither one speaks the other’s language very well. Ah, who am I kidding… neither one speaks any language very well.

Sure, they both tried but I don’t award effort points if I have to say “Huh” 12 times during a conversation.

When he wasn’t our waiter, he always took the time to wave or come by the booth (I do love a booth much more than a table) and say Hi. Or something that sounded like Hi.

Whatever it was, he said it with a great big smile on his face.

Last weekend, we won the waiter lottery and Jose was in charge of our booth.

He came by and took our order in his usual upbeat mood.

Then it happened.

He told us the next day would be his last. He was returning to Mexico to be with his family.

The look of shock and horror on my daughter’s face was disturbing.

I thought she was going to cry, but she held it together. I think she was being strong for Jose.

My point here is… he always took the time to be nice to her.

We should all be so kind to strangers, little kids, old people… and everyone else with whom we come into contact with.

You never really know the effect you have on people… until you move back to your home country.

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My Dad is Still Goofy.

Math is Hard.My Dad is typing this because he says having me type is like watching paint dry.

I wanted to answer your questions.

How much are you charging for Dad- $100 ($50 for me and $50 for Dad)- that is a good girl who will sell her father and then split the money

Do we get ice cream for helping- No, you’re on your own.

Can he cook or clean- No and Yes.

Have you gone for ice cream yet- No, I needed 10 comments and I only got 8.

What flavor of ice cream- Chocolate.

Now the joke.

What did one math book say to the other math book………………………………………

I have a lot of problems!

Please leave a comment. Help a girl out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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