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A little while ago we bought a cool stainless steel Maytag dishwasher from the Bray & Scarff outlet in Laurel, MD. It is a scratch and dent place, returns etc. So we get this cool thing, we love it. It is as quiet as a church mouse. The dishwasher it replaced sounded like a freight train loaded with ball bearings and broken glass. It was LOUD. And after a while, you just couldn’t clean the plastic insides.

Anyhoot, after a while we notice that when pushing the keypad, the lights would either stay on or not go off. If we set the dishwasher to “Sanitize”, the next time you couldn’t get that selection to turn off. So we’d close the door, open it, push ALL the buttons. Eventually it would re-set itself and we’d move on.

The other day, I’d had enough of that shit. This thing should be working, why am I trying to diagnose this bs? So I call the 1-800 number and get some gruff sounding chick. She takes my info, asks when we bought it, serial number, all that. She informs me we’ve had it since Dec 08, (news to me, I think all of our appliance are “less than 1 year old” and that includes my 25 yr old air conditioner) and that we’re past the 1 yr warranty time period. Okay, that’s on me, should have called YEARS ago instead of fucking with the sometimes working keypad. So then the gruff chick says, “well, you are past the 1 year deal, but Maytag has some extenuating circumstances that I can apply here. I’ll have someone out there tomorrow morning.” I nearly collapsed. My question of course follows, “how much will it be?” To which she says, “oh nothing, you’ll pay nothing for parts or work, at Maytag we stand behind our products.” No shit. She is no longer gruff, she sounds all pleased, as do I. Then she says, “is there anything else I can do for you?” Me, “yeah I have all kinds of things I’d like YOU to help me with.”

The repair woman (don’t see that much, she’s been doing it for 8 years and loves it) comes out, touches the keypad, it does nothing. I was worried it was going to be one of those deals where you take your car in for some aggravating gremlin that while at the dealer works perfectly. Like the driver’s side mirror on my 2004 Forester. That damn thing is frozen up and down, it will move left to right. Every single time I take the car in for oil change, I say check the mirror. And every time they say, “it works perfectly.” Digression over. She orders the part, she’ll see us next week when it comes in. Part arrives, so does she, installs it, works fine.

You gotta love that.

When Lisa went to “Back To School Night” in the beginning of the year, she never mentioned our daughter would be taking Advanced Placement Cellphone.

Me, “Austen, what happened in Algebra today?”
Austen, “Uh … not much.”

Me, “What happened in Advanced Social Studies today?”
Austen, “Nothing.”

Me, “Did anything go on in Advanced English today?”
Austen, “I don’t remember.”

Getting the picture?

If I want a detailed response, I’d ask a question like this:
Me, “Anyone get a new phone?”

Austen, “Yeah, my friend Jill, she just got a new black Droid Eris … my other friend Annie just got her Dads old Palm Pre Plus, cuz he got a new Blackberry Storm2 … my other friend Mary, she dropped her old LG Chocolate Touch on the concrete outside the gym on purpose because she wants a new iPhone, cuz her sister got an iPhone … my other friend Lana, she painted her HTC Pure with black nail polish cuz she wanted to see what would happen if she used nail polish remover on it … my other friend Lexi is all mad at her parents cuz they only pay for 10,000 text messages a month … my other friend Nell, she’s all mad at her parents too cuz all they gave her was a pre-paid old Nokia like the one you have …

Erin sprints from the couch the other evening, just making it to the kitchen sink, barf, yak, spew, yop. I know … kitchen sink. That was my first thought until I realized Erin’s stomach tsunami could have cascaded down on our fairly new Crate&Barrel couch, ouch. So why, after watching my poor little bunny throw up ALL of her carrots did I NOT deviate from my eating plans for the night? Major mistake.

Here’s a big f’in tip for you. IF you ever have another family member get the yops, change your eating plans IMMEDIATELY. Do not continue on with your plans of eating homemade chicken salad with bacon strips and a side of tortillas with spicy pico-de-gallo. Think of it as “what food can I live without for several years?” Because you know what, when you’re bent over your toilet a few scant hours later, the last thing you want to “taste” again is spicy pico-de-gallo with subtle hints of bacon. That stays with you, believe me.

As soon as the other person starts barking, get thee to crackers and water and live with it. And if you’re the unfortunate one to kick things off for your family, between hurls tell all that will listen, “crackers and water, crackers and water …”

Austen and I were at Extra Innings in Laurel yesterday practicing her pitching. Normally the other tunnel next to us has another girl practicing her pitching as well. We usually start off with a little game of catch to warm up. No big deal, back and forth, nice easy pace. Soft to medium throws, cinchy.

So I wasn’t looking for the absolute rocket that came at me on her first “warm up” throw. I’m thinking, whoa Strasburg, no need for the 100mph’er right off the bat here, what gives? Silly me, silly daddy, wake the F up!

The tunnel next to us wasn’t inhabited by the usual, oh no. This time it was crawling with 6ft tall high school BOY hurlers who rotated every 10 minutes or so. It was a never ending parade of testosterone laden baseball players. When its another girl next cage, Austen gives her the “elevator eyes” (general judgmental look up and down that girls somehow intrinsically know how to do). This time it was quick little peeks, stolen here and there. So I guess its not surprising that there were to be NO girl throws, not with the men watching.

We’re having breakfast at Einstein Bros Bagels in College Park a few Sundays ago when a Celine Dion song comes on the store speakers. Cue Erin who is listening to her iPod.
Erin, “Whoa, who is that singing? I think my iPod just broke.”

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Yesterday Lisa and I are sitting in the living room. Erin walks in and starts pointing her finger at me, then Lisa, back and forth.
Erin, “Which one of you ladies is gonna fix me a sammich?”

Walking through Tyson’s Corner Mall today and happen upon some people, actually paying to submit themselves to what? Having their eyebrows tweezed by someone with string in their mouths. WTF? Is it me? Where do I begin?

No f’n way would I let some beotch put a string in her unsanitary mouth and let her tweeze my eyebrows. First of all, have people no shame today? Why would I, even if I was temporarily knocked senseless, ever want to have this done in public? Hey, why not a kiosk to comb my ass hairs? Second, if you need to tweeze your unibrow, do it at home, I don’t want to see that shit. Third, who “trains” these mouth stringers? Isn’t it unsanitary? Why is the string in their mouths in the first place?
All the while people are walking by this scene like its the most common thing ever. God, I just wanted to jump up on the Fake Uggs Kiosk and start yelling.  “What the hell’s wrong with you people? …  don’t you see that chick with the string in her mouth? … Soylent Green is people!”

Look, I’m going to be 50 next week, I know all about Grandpalikeeareyebrowandnosehairesyndrome okay? Once again, I blame my wife. I can’t always keep up with the kudzu like hair growth emanating from my earlobes. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times, “warn me when you see wild-ass hairs sticking out of my ears.” Jesus. I don’t care how bad it gets for me, no, a thousand times no.

I was so fucking worked up I nearly missed my appointment at the teeth whitening kiosk.

LOVE this stuff. Love it.  Smells great, feels clean and has a nice refill. I’ve been trying to get in line about not using anti-bacterial soap. If you have kids you’ve no doubt gotten the lecture from your Ped. about too much use of anti-bacterial products be no good. Seems overuse can help germs build immunity to antibiotics, wha? Trouble is, everything is anti-bacterial, soap, tissues, you name it.

So finally found Method Foaming Hand Wash and there ain’t no going back. Other pump hand soaps are too gooey, (Dial) or too anti-bacterially (Softsoap). BTW- If you ever want to see something funny, check out my wife when she has to use a shitty gas station bathroom. That alone is funny, but when she comes out with her hands held up like she’s getting robbed, its a good indicator the soap (if there is any) smells like ass.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti anti-bacterial. Oh no, I love me some antibiotics when me or my gals are sick. Problem with that is you’re reduced to lying like a bastard to get it. I just want some of dat pink stuff or maybe a little ol Z pak. Thats all.

Me, “Uh, yeah Doctor, uh, yeah, my uh, yeah … fever for 7 months now. Whassat? oh, uh … about 107 degrees … yeah shakes … vomiting? … oh yeah, big on that, big on that. Whassat? diarrhea? … oh yeah, pure squirts there, pure squirts … Whassat? throat? oh … (close eyed gulp for effect ) on FIRE, on FIRE“

I find that that kind of plea usually works. Be sure to mention your throat is on FIRE! That is critical to your success, it says BACTERIA writ large. You may want to spray some red dye in there to complete the illusion. What you DO NOT want to hear is the term “Viral”. Viral means you ain’t getting shit.

And that’s why I love Method Hand Soap.

Couldn’t sleep the other night so I got up and watched TV. You should know I NEVER get up and watch TV when I can’t sleep. I’ll lay there in bed with my eyes open and stare at the blackness for hours before I go to the TV. Lisa is just the opposite, she bolts after a few non-winks.

So I’m tooling around the dial at 4am when I spy “Erotica” on DirecTV Infomercial channel. WTF? Isn’t this the channel with the “Knife” show? Or is the “Gem” show? Anyway, with eyes half open I turn on this channel and nearly rolled off the couch. Aside: Just the day before Lisa and I programmed the TV to hide any slutty “adult” channels, you know like MTV ;-).

Here are two normal looking infomercial chicks babbling on about this wonderful product that “we can all use to better our …” all the while holding onto this gigantic blue rubber dil … er, “girls best friend.” This thing had ticklers, schmicklers, gewgaws  and a second smaller dil … er, “girls best friend.” Jesus Christ. If you didn’t know better, you’d think these two might have been selling the Shamwow, they played it that straight, like everyone has this monster on their coffee table. “Just slide the helper slowly … you getting this camera guy?”

Next product up for discussion, “a friend for us guys.” OK, I’m listening. “Notice the realistic …” I was just about to scribble the 1-800 number down when I fell asleep.

With great anticipation TheDadReport.com crew headed down to DC to visit the newly re-modeled National Museum of American History. Not good. My advice, do not plan anything around a visit to this museum. The space itself is divided up into East and West wings with a center hall, all rightee. In doing so, it renders each little space in the wing(s) oddly compact and without life. For example: Popular Culture. You wait in line, the first thing you see as you enter is an electronic portrait of Stephen Colbert, uh, okay. Not the first person I think of as representing U.S. Popular Culture but okay, he’s funny and timely. That’s pretty much the highlight right there. Once past “Colberrrr”, you see Archie Bunker’s chair from All In The Family, a few shoes, a few baseball unis, Kermit and you’re out the door. Wow, not much to US pop culture. And the space is devoid of character. The little area where Archie’s chair resides has zero graphics on the wall, nothing indicating more to see ahead. It looks like a temporary exhibit where someone said, “uh, where are we putting this fricking chair?” “Just put it in a glass case and shove the whole shit out the door there to the left.”

To be fair there are a couple of exhibits worth your time. The Star Spangled Banner is super cool and well worth it. This exhibit is nicely designed, you see the flag and then read the history on the way out. Nice. I also enjoyed seeing Julia Child’s kitchen. It is her actual kitchen from her Cambridge, MA. home. Though I can see it only being of interest to a certain age of visitor. You can hear many parents telling their kids who Julia was. A lot of blank stares and “uh huhs” ahead. “Bon Appetit!” indeed.

The other exhibit worth mentioning is The First Ladies. The docent told us the exhibit will get larger, though it’s worth the time now. Take a look at all of the First Ladies portraits around the room and see if you can tell who the first one was to actually smile. As we sport 2 daughters, the First Ladies Inaugural gowns was a big hit. By-the-by, can someone take a better portrait of Michelle Obama? It may have been updated since we were there, but it looked like someone took Michelle’s pic with a cell phone. Come on.

So that’s it. It has a few things worth seeing but I’d skip it if I had a time crunch. I recommend the Natural History Museum, especially with kids in tow. A tip on parking: The Ronald Reagan Building. Located only a block away, you can park on weekends for $10 a day. Very convenient to the museums as well as the Washington Monument. Plus, it has super clean bathrooms and decent food court. It’s a nice place to stop for a drink or food and relax.

At a restaurant in Chicago last week the discussion turned to bacon. Guess who has the line of the day? Yup, Erin.
Erin, “Bacon is fried guilt.”