The How-Not-To Guide to Parenting and Marriage

THE HOW-NOT-TO GUIDE TO PARENTING AND MARRIAGE

By Jon Ziegler

For Cynthia, Hannah, Natalie

And all the friends and family who inspired and

Encouraged my writing.

    
                                                                 CONTENTS

      
A quick note from the author.

1.
       
I was born without a romance gland.

2.
      
Intention is not completion.

3.
      
Cinnamon raisin mango ice cream.

4.
     
Decorating with a husband’s touch.

5.
      
Communication fail.

6.
      
I am not a morning person.

7.
      
Second child syndrome.

8.
     
The smudge.

9.
      
The huge book of horrifying diseases.

10.
   
Our family justice system.

11.
    
I can’t do this!

12.
   
Teaching our pets to be more self-sufficient.

13.
   
Who’s training who?

14.
  
She’s talking to my butt.

15.
   
Waves of parenting.

16.
   
Easter

17.
   
Shopping

18.
  
The normal family show.

19.
   
Driving with children.

20.
  
The horror.

21.
   
The horror (revised)

22.
  
Showering genius.

23.
  
Buckle up for insanity.

24.
 
The dentist.

25.
  
I’m not a sports dad.

26.
  
Happy light.

27.
  
Friday night.

28.
 
Signs of the end of the world.

29.
  
Turning over a new leaf.

30.
  
Children’s art.

31.
   
Organization mayhem.

32.
  
Helpful household tips.

33.
  
Vicious cycle.

34.
 
Things to do while your wife watches her dumb shows.

35.
  
The violence of passive aggressiveness.

36.
  
I love you or highway to hell.

37.
  
The one thing you cannot force a child to do.

38.
 
What goes on in the bathroom.

39.
  
Mystery

40.
 
In your Face(book)

41.
  
Horse freak.

42.
 
Cool dad.

43.
 
The audience.

44.
 
Laundry hints for the helpful husband.

45.
 
The never ending battle.

46.
 
My music.

47.
 
The traumatic changes to one’s life associated with getting married.

48.
 
On daughters and dating.

49.
 
The playground of death!

50.
  
Questions that have no answer.

51.
   
As it should be.

52.
  
The behaviorizer.

53.
  
Vomit holocaust.

54.
 
Anti-OCD.

55.
  
Lawn management.

56.
  
Why would she do that to me?

57.
  
Happy birthday.

58.
 
Feast of burden.

59.
  
The bacon festival.

60.
  
Children are made in a convenient size.

61.
   
A solution to the child transport nightmare.

62.
  
The inevitable erosion of your parental values.

63.
  
The wall of shame.

64.
 
The ever forth-coming garage sale.

65.
  
How dare you bowl with my wife!

66.
  
Ode to my couch.

67.
  
How does that make you feel?

68.
 
The dinner menu.

69.
  
What happened?

70.
  
The unsaid language of love.

71.
   
Do as I say, not as I do.

72.
  
That’s not funny.

73.
  
Why old people smell funny.

A QUICK NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

The How-Not-To Guide To Parenting and Marriage
started out as a blog several years ago. It was a place where I could write down all the ridiculous stories that constantly float around in my head. Much to my surprise, there seemed to actually be people who derived some amusement from the stories, and you might say, even enjoyed them.

But as life got busier raising our two girls, I soon found less and less time to fool around with writing stories for the site, and I stopped.

After a several year lapse, the site
was resurrected as a Facebook page of the same name, and again, there seemed to actually be some people who enjoyed reading the silly stories.

This book is a collection of the stories that have appeared over the years, on both the blog and the Facebook page. Nearly all of the stories were inspired by events that have taken place in the lives of myself and family members, but very few of them are without some exaggeration. I will leave you guessing as to which parts are made up, and which situations are actually true. In fact, if there is any particular part of the book that offends or angers you, please assume that this section of the book was purely fictional.

I do own all rights to the stories and the book, so please don’t publish your own book with a title and stories that are the same as mine. You are, however, encouraged to read the stories to any and all like-minded folk who might enjoy hearing them. You are also free to promote, and insist that your friends purchase the book. You can even tell them that you feel that anyone who hasn’t purchased the book couldn’t possibly be a friend of yours.

So as you read the stories, have a laugh, and take solace in the knowledge that you are not the only imperfect parent out there!

1. I WAS BORN WITHOUT A ROMANCE GLAND.

Much to my wife's disappointment, I think I must have been born without a romance gland. Being romantic just doesn't come naturally to me, and my efforts to fake it just don't seem to work out all that well.

For instance,
I know that women love to get flowers, but I just can't seem to get over paying that much money for something that only lasts a few days, and has no function other than to sit in a vase and look pretty. It might be different if you could put them in a vase for a few days, and then be able to eat them . . . . . or if they could play Pink Floyd songs.

One time,
being aware that my wife loved to receive flowers, I tried to bypass the cost of buying them by sending my four year old daughter over to my neighbor's yard to pick a bouquet of free flowers for her. I figured this way, she gets her flowers, and I avoid the agony of paying for something that has no practical purpose. It seemed like a win-win situation. But unfortunately, I failed to notice that my darling child had included a number of sticks, and a skeletonized bird leg in the bunch. My wife did not fail to notice. It would seem that practicality is the enemy of romance.

I have learned from
similar attempts at practical romance, to avoid things like thrift store lingerie, hotels that rent their Honeymoon suite by the hour, and champagne bought at flea markets. M&M’s do not count as a box of chocolates, and don't try combining romantic weekend getaways with Star Trek conventions or fishing tournaments.

Now that I'm thinking about it, I believe my lack of a romance gland
may have even affected my dating life before I got married. I never went for all the clever pickup lines. I always preferred to be concise and to the point with something like, "how old are you, and how much do you weigh?"

I know someday they will find a cure for having not been b
orn with a romance gland. Or maybe they will just start removing them from women like a diseased tonsil. Until then, I will continue to try . . . . . and fail at faking it.

2. INTENTION IS NOT COMPLETION.

When the subject of building a new house came up, I only said, to my wife, that I plan on building it myself, and she instantly put her head in her hands and started groaning.

"I want to be able to actually move into it before we die!" she said in a tortured tone.

I hadn't even mentioned to her that I also plan on buying a sawmill, and making all the boards as well.

"You have no faith in me. You act like I never finish anything
!", I answered somewhat offended.

Without a word, she stood up and walked into the kitchen. When she returned, she was holding a list of tasks that I had told her to make one time when I had forgotten to get her a birthday present. Along with the creation of the list, came the promise that I would complete her top ten projects around the house as her gift.

"This was my birthday list you promised to complete six years ago", she said, holding the sun faded paper up my face. "And how many have you completed?"

"Ummmm . . . .” I mumbled, trying to find at least one item I had completed. "There! . . . . I fixed the picnic table", I said pointing to the list.

"No!” she snapped back, “Getting angry and setting the picnic table ablaze with gasoline doesn't count as fixing it!"

As I looked over the list, I realized that she might be right. Of the ten things on the list, I hadn't even started seven of them, two were half done, and then there was the picnic table, which apparently didn’t count.

It's not like I hadn't done anything for the last six years. It just always seemed like other more important things always came up, like helping my neighbor Robert turn his mother's coffin into a go-cart (they decided to cremate her at the last minute).

But it seemed I had trouble completing the replacement tasks as well. The coffin go-cart has been behind Robert's garage without front wheels or a motor for five years now. The tree house I was so excited to build for my kids was mostly complete, except for the ladder to get up to it. Each spring, my girls make a list of things to do in the tree house if the ladder is ever completed so that they can get up there.

I think that the government must put something in our milk that prevents men from completing things. Probably so that if we ever revolt, and try to take over the government, we would get 95% to victory, and then just all stop shooting and go home and lay on the couch.

But I've decided that I'm going to change all that right now. I'm going to get the birthday list and start at the top . . . . . well, I mean as soon as the Abbot and Costello marathon is over.