Daughters - Funny Parenting Stories for Fathers (and Mothers)

Helping You and your Children through Life

If you’re interested in what Kepler is sharing with his family, he has written his contributions to the future of our country and is ready and willing to share it with you. Kepler has written “Raising Tomorrow”. Inside the book is 208 pages of wit (not wisdom. Remember no parent knows what they’re doing.) to help and inspire parents to talk to their children. As Kepler said to me, “Raising Tomorrow invites parents to slow down, sit with their kids, and start the kinds of meaningful conversations that actually shape character—and last a lifetime.”

Another school year is coming to a close. The Miracles of Christ are counting down the days to their freedom. I’m checking the liquor cabinet to make sure I have enough to see me through summer.

Stories and Lessons Abound

It’s been another year filled with exciting stories and life lessons. Some days have provided a little more excitement than I would like. Parenting isn’t easy. Any parent knows that, but sometimes Life feels the need to send us a little reminder from time to time.

I love when fellow Daddies and Mommies reach out to me with a little tidbit or anecdote. It’s nice to see who I’m in the boat with. You might also know there are people who reach out to me with their own collection of stories, products, and services. Sometimes it’s something that can make your life easy. Sometimes it’s something to enjoy with your own child or it can be something for a daddy or mommy to use and enjoy, something to give them a break for a moment or two on the parenting journey.

Kepler Knott is a fellow participant on the parenting journey. I say this site has parenting humor, not advice. No one knows what they’re doing anyway. Kepler knows what I’m talking about. He, like other parents, knows how hard it is to raise children and guide them through the struggles and trials of life. Kepler talks to his daughters whenever he gets the chance. These chances could be when his daughters are coming to him with a problem or just when he has something to impart to them. Hopefully his children are listening to what he has to say. He has a lot to share that can help them in life.

Kepler Knott and his Book

… [T]hese days it seems we are all so worried with why and how we are different that we forget the things that make us alike and (should) hold us together.
– “Raising Tomorrow”

“Raising Tomorrow” is divided into 16 chapters. Each chapter focuses on a different part of life. Throughout the book, Kepler invites you to sit in on a conversation he is having with his daughters. His conversations cover just about everything you see, hear and read about. There is even a chapter titled “On Politics”. This important chapter doesn’t endorse or condemn an ideology. Instead, it warns his daughters about the heightened rhetoric that has taken over the United States and the civil discourse that has waned and deteriorated with each election cycle. Honestly, you don’t need to be a parent to read and learn something from this chapter.

Kepler’s book warns his daughters about boys. Boys are an interesting species to observe. I have a preteen boy myself, and I’m lucky if his responses are than a grunt or a one-word answer. The crew he hangs with is also something to observe. There is always a story to hear. The days lived and led by these young men are certainly entertaining.

All Parents have Been there

“Raising Tomorrow” will have you nodding more than once as you read. It has a lot of useful, anecdotal information that you can share with your family. Kepler is the father of two daughters, but there is plenty for parents of boys that is useful and helpful, and I’m not just taking about the chapter “On Boys”. Kepler’s life lessons learned at work, at home, and in the military have laid a foundation that prepares him for life every day.

Note to self: it’s important to have a Plan B.
– “Raising Tomorrow”

Some days parenting are harder than others. There can be difficult situations and touchy conversations. As parents, we try to get out in front of these situations so a conversation isn’t more difficult or awkward that it might be. From school, to religion, to relationships, “Raising Tomorrow” makes great points and offers openings at various times to talk to your children, daughters and sons alike, about their lives and whatever challenges may appear on the paths they choose. It’s not always easy getting your kids to listen, but at least you can say you did what you could to help them on those paths.

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Your Daughter is Travelling Alone for the First Time

The family has been getting frequent weather reports, usually mentioning warm weather and sunny skies. Back here in Massachusetts, we’re in the middle of our annual Spring Monsoon, so we are happy that at least one member of the family is getting to see Mr. Golden Sun.

Travelling is good. I hope you get the chance to do it. Hopefully, The Oppressed will return home with stories of fun she and her friend had while they were away. In addition to the daily updates, we are also getting lots of pictures as our daughter documents her time on the other side of the country.

If you read this blog often, you know I like to travel and have travelled with my family to various places on the Western Hemisphere. Travelling is something I love to do, and I still look back fondly at the memories created with my family when driving or flying to our destinations.

April Vacation Plans

This week is School Vacation week. It’s a time when children across the country take a sigh of relief as they enjoy mornings without being hurried and hassled. It’s a week when parents leave the house in the morning and hope everything is still standing and intact when they return.

The Boy and his Fruit Loops have a week of bike riding and carousing planned for their days of freedom. There may even be another trip to Cape Cod planned. Apparently, my wife loves to witness more shenanigans. Why not?

Travelling to California

On the other hand, we have The Oppressed. She and a friend have decided to take a trip together to the West Coast for the week and spend some time away from parental monitoring. Well, away from parental monitoring. The girls are staying with family of The Oppressed’s friend.

I’m happy for my youngest daughter. She has a bit of the Travel Bug like both of her parents. Wife and I are happy she has this chance to see what’s out there. The three of us had lots of conversations before the day of the flight. We have also been in contact with parents of the friend. All four of us wanted to make sure everything was taken care of before the flight and surprises could be minimized during the big week.

My Vacation in New Hampshire

My brother and I took a trip when we weren’t much older than The Oppressed is now. We spent a week in New Hampshire. A family we grew up with rented a house and drove five quiet, reserved, laid-back, well-behaved boys for a week that involved arcade games, wiffle ball, and swimming. Growing up, there were plane trips to Florida and a car trip to Washington D.C. Countless trips to New Hampshire and Maine were sprinkled in between those longer journeys.

Hoping my Daughter has Fun

I’m excited for my daughter to have this opportunity. It’s her first time on the West Coast, so the jet lag was something that needed a little adjusting. One of their first stops in California was Dunkin Donuts much to my dismay. In my humble opinion, travelling means checking out the local establishments, not the chains. The Oppressed new how much this irks me and made sure to tell me where she ate when the plane landed.

Traveling is Fun

Traveling is good. I hope you get the chance to do it. Hopefully, The Oppressed will return home with stories of fun she and her friend had while they were away. In addition to the daily updates, we are also getting lots of pictures as our daughter documents her time on the other side of the country.

My children constantly hear me talk about a road trip my wife and I took right before we moved into our house. We went down the east coast seeing Virginia and Savannah, Georgia. On our way back north, we stopped in South Carolina and Philadelphia. Since then, children have accompanied us to various sites in and beyond the United States. There are more trips waiting for us. Hopefully, they will occur sooner rather than later. Maybe there will be a day on vacation when The Oppressed will see something, and it will remind her of a day in California, and she will tell us a story about a particular event when she and her friend were travelling and witnessed something exciting. No doubt the girls are seeing and doing fun things over there. Maybe she’ll write about them some day.

This is going to be a different experience for The Oppressed. She’s been on vacation with the family before. We are down Cape Cod most of the time, and there is something of a structure when we are there. It usually involves a little yard work or a small project in or out of the house. If you have a home or a yard, you understand what I’m talking about.

When Your Child Loses a Stuffed Animal

We’re still trying to get back into the swing of things after our Washington D.C. trip. Laundry and dishes have piled back up. The children have moved on from days of walking and sightseeing to days of reading, writing and ‘rithmetic. I’ve moved back to my regimens of reading and writing.

Eight people returning from vacation means a lot of laundry. Lovie and The Oppressed are doing everything they can to stay on top of things and attend to the mountains upon mountains of dirty clothes.

The children brought their luggage and souvenirs back to their respective rooms and all of us, including me, are still going through what we brought home with us and making sure it’s in their proper places. This brings me to the crisis at hand. You see, The Oppressed is the very proud owner of two stuffed ducks, Sir Ducks-a-Lot and Quackers.

Missing Duck

Well, as she brought her stuff back to her room and getting re-adjusted with her life at home and school, my youngest daughter noticed that one of the ducks was missing. The one that was missing just so happened to be the smallest of the two.

This bothered The Oppressed, who was immediately concerned for Quackers’ welfare. I explained to her that things would be alright. We’ll find Quackers. This is also an excellent opportunity to square things away in her room. I told her I was certain that Quackers would turn up as we put things away and tidied up her bedroom.

She was upset with me. I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. I certainly didn’t understand what needed to be done. Time was of the essence, and we can’t waste it moving things around her bedroom (like she was supposed to do before Quackers went missing, anyway).

The Oppressed immediately went around the house asking all siblings if anyone has seen Quackers. Alas, no one has seen her precious duck. I wish to point out that Quackers is one of the newest additions to the bedroom of The Oppressed, so not only is Quackers new and not totally acclimated with the room or the rest of the house, Quackers is also small and scared, as mentioned before.

The “Missing” Poster

The Oppressed wasted no time in getting to work, not on picking up her room, of course, but in getting to work. She immediately made a poster to make everyone fully aware of the situation at hand, including a hand-drawn portrait of Quackers. She took a picture of Sir Ducks-a-Lot. More on that later.

She put the poster up on the refrigerator and pointed out the drawing of the duck to remind people what Quackers looked like, as well as the reward being offered for finding Quackers. That reward, originally $5, has since been raised to $5.50 and two snacks from her very own Easter basket. Again, if you are not aware of the gravity of the situation, my daughter will enlighten you.

“Missing” poster of Quackers. Note the increased reward and reminders of how scared and hungry he is.

The Picture

Back to the picture of Sir Ducks-a-Lot. Quackers is just a smaller version of SDL (I’m getting tired). The Oppressed has used this to her advantage. My daughter took a picture of SDL just in case the drawing of Quackers isn’t enough for people to go on. Also, the child has directed everyone’s attention to the refrigerator where the drawing and photo are. We hope everyone will study the drawing, the picture. She hopes everyone will take their own pictures and share them with friends, with neighbors. She hopes anyone who can help will join in her mission to bring a scared, lost duck home.

There is also a chance The Oppressed will be making a guest appearance on this website, as she is not confident that I can fully convey the magnitude and immediacy of this dire situation. Stay tuned for her message and for further developments on this story.

If you need help finding your child’s lost toy, or a replacement, visit lostmylovey.com to see if anyone has found it, or where you can purchase a new one. You can also visit multiple pages on Facebook for help with a lost friend.

Road Trip, Music, and Dinner

The Oppressed spent a weekend at my parents one time. It was originally meant as a girls’ weekend with a cousin who was close to her age. Unfortunately, the cousin wasn’t feeling well; so, it was just The Oppressed with her grandparents. It was a great time for her because she was getting the chance to spend time with her grandparents. My parents liked it for the same reason. Wife and I said to each other, “One down, five more to go.”

We met each other halfway between my house and my parents’ house. We had an early dinner together and then parted ways. The Oppressed kept in touch with me and Wife during the weekend, letting me know what they were doing. We were also making plans for picking her up on Sunday and bringing her home. The Oppressed had been wanting to go to Newbury Comics for a long time, but we hadn’t been able to fit it into our schedule. Sunday seemed like the perfect day to go. We were taking a long drive, anyway. It would allow us to get something to eat, hit Newbury Comics, and talk about the weekend she had at her grandparents’. A road trip seemed like the perfect way to cover all of these things. As usual, things did not turn out as we planned.

Newbury Comics

We left my parents’ house in the middle of the afternoon. It was a Sunday, meaning that stores were going to close early. Needless to say, time was of the essence.

I haven’t lived in the area in a long time, but I still have a good idea of where things are. Still, we were on a schedule, and I didn’t want to waste any time and take the chance of taking too long and getting there after they closed. On top of that, getting to Newbury Comics sooner meant getting something to eat sooner, which meant we could take our time and not worry about having to rush things.

Exterior shot of a strip mall on a cloudy day with cars driving by. — *No Newbury Comics.*

I used my phone to find the closest store to us. It wasn’t too far from us, which meant my plan was unfolding in grand fashion. I plug the address into my GPS and we begin our first leg of our journey home. During the road trip, we talked about what her mom, her siblings, and I did during the weekend. We talked about the things she did during the weekend. It was a great weekend for her and a great ride for the both of us. While we ride and drive, I tell her to keep an eye open for a place she might like to stop at for dinner.

We see a ray of light shining down upon us as the interior is filled with heavenly sounds of a choir of angels.

The GPS leads us to the parking lot of a strip mall. I must say, I am a little disheartened at what I see, or I should say what I don’t see. There is no Newbury Comics. The Oppressed and I look at each other. It looks like we made this short drive for nothing. I do notice a storefront that may have been a former home to Newbury Comics. I suggest we stop inside and see what’s there.

Inside a store with shelves of books. Vinyl records are on the floor. — *Books and music as far as the eye can see. That’s the Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper” to the left.*

We open the doors and what do we see? We see a ray of light shining down upon us as the interior is filled with heavenly sounds of a choir of angels. We see shelves upon shelves of books against the wall. Not far from the books are DVDs. In the middle of the floor are racks of CDs. It was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

The Oppressed and I walk around the music section of the store. She is interested in finding something from Queen and something from the Beatles (bless her heart). There are plenty of things to look at, not just in the music section. However, we have other things to do, like find something to eat and get back home where Wife is trapped with five other children. I ask The Oppressed where she would like to eat on this particular afternoon. She and I both noticed we passed a certain place not far from where we ended up purchasing our CDs. I’m not going to tell you the name of the place. You’ll find out why as we go along.

What’s for Dinner

The Oppressed and I agree to check out this particular place. I remind her that there are other places nearby for dining out, and we can even continue our road trip home and continue to look for another place to eat. This nice place appears to pass inspection with her, and we decide to enter and dine.

A tween girl looking back at a mounted flatscreen showing an NHL hockey game. — *Dinner and hockey. The day keeps getting better.*

There is a nice man who greets us upon entering. I’m going to call him “Rick”. Rick pulls two menus and leads us to our table. Upon sitting, we order drinks. Rick leaves to get our drinks. The Oppressed and I continue to talk about the weekend. There are plenty of things on the menu that look good and we’re both hungry. We start with an appetizer and continue to look at the entrées. A little more chatting. Soon, Rick returns with our appetizer, and we place our orders for dinner.

A tween girl posing with her wrap and french fries. — *Ready to eat dinner.*

Dinner is finished. We both need to use the restroom. We’re both in the restroom for a long time. We’re discussing this as we walk back to the car.

“Good Lord,” I said. “What did I eat?”

“I don’t know,” The Oppressed answers, “But I had the same thing happen to me.”

“I was not well.”

“I think they gave us food poisoning.”

Plates of food, a wrap and fries, and home fries with rice and tostones.

And now you see why I didn’t want to tell you the specific name of where we ate. I assure my daughter we didn’t have food poisoning. We slide one of the new CDs into the stereo (Queen) and begin the final leg of our road trip home. Due to the detour to the store and the restaurant, we are taking a different route home then we usually take from my parents’ house. That’s alright, though. I don’t mind it, and neither does she.

We get home just in time. Our tummies are hurting again. We go inside, say a quick, “hello” to Wife and the children, and race against time and our stomachs to the bathroom again. We both emerge from our respective bathrooms (I am continually thankful for having more than one bathroom in our home, and I don’t know how families survive in houses with just one bathroom.) and see Wife, who is in our room. She asks us about our day together. We tell her about everything we did. We tell her about the road trip, about my parents and how they are, and we tell her about our shopping excursion, Queen, the Beatles, and dinner. Wife asks about dinner, considering we ran in different directions looking for a bathroom as soon as we walked in the house.

“Dad and I have food poisoning from the restaurant,” The Oppressed tells her.

I explain to Wife that we don’t have food poisoning. The Oppressed respectfully disagrees. We didn’t have any incidents after that evening, but my daughter has still reminded me that we got food poisoning from that restaurant. I have tried to explain otherwise, but have you ever tried to explain something to your kid?

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School Morning Routines with the Children

Before the days of “Social Distancing” and the latest, newest “Normal” (Can we please stop with “New Normal”?), my days were filled with overworking the Miracles of Christ, force-feeding them, and violating inalienable rights. My responsibilities, of course, were nothing compared with the burdens of the cherubim.

“Overworking” my children means making them pick up clothes from the floor and putting them in the laundry basket or in the dresser. It’s usually easy for me to figure out which clothes are clean and need to be put away. These are the folded clothes that “fell” from their beds and are on the floor leaning from the bed on which I put them.

Challenges Children Face

“Force-feeding” will be addressed later when we get into the details of a typical morning. The “inalienable” rights usually involve television or some other type of screen. It could be worse. The children could have found an engaging toy or activity that is clearly more interesting than a schoolwork assignment. The Oppressed has said on countless occasions she needs to enjoy life. It’s awful hard to enjoy your existence when academics get in the way.

A Morning in the Life of Children

As you sit in your home/office/bunker waiting for the pandemic to subside, I wish to give you a glimpse into our morning routine and show you what it was like before we were self-isolating.

5:30-6:00 – Wake up. Have coffee. Turn on laptop and do some writing.

7:00 – Wake The Oppressed, The Boy, and The Gaggle. Head to basement to get clothes out of dryer and load the washer or empty/fill the dishwasher.

7:15 – Return upstairs to check on Cherubim. The Oppressed wakes again and says she needs to sleep more because of the tough day she had at school. The Gaggle is brushing her hair and getting ready to head downstairs. The Boy wakes up saying, “I don’t like you.”

7:20 – The Gaggle comes downstairs and gives her order for breakfast. The Boy comes downstairs. When asked what he would like for breakfast, he smiles and says he needs to think. The Oppressed comes downstairs wrapped in a blanket and complains how cold it is.

7:25 – The Boy would like pancakes. I tell him it’s too late for pancakes and he will have to settle for cereal, toast, yogurt, or fruit. These are not acceptable options for a child growing up in a first-world country. The Oppressed concurs and, under protest, accepts a bowl of cold cereal. I ask the children what they would like for lunch, they all choose school lunch. The selections I offer (ham, cheese, roast beef, PB&J, Fluffernutter) are more in line with a North Korean labor camp. I clearly don’t love my children.

7:30 – A bus arrives to take the older Gaggle to school. They are up, dressed, and fed. They made their lunch the night before and grab their coats and head out to the bus.

7:40 – Inform the Miracles of Christ we are leaving in 25 minutes. The Oppressed leaves a half-eaten bowl of cereal on the counter. I remind The Oppressed the bowl needs to go in the sink. The Oppresses hangs her head and groans. She has to do everything and threatens to tell her teacher I think she is my slave.

7:45 – We are leaving in 20 minutes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the Miracles of Christ respond. Tell the children they need to brush their teeth. The Gaggle brushes her teeth, finds her shoes and makes sure her coat and bag are by the door when it’s “Go Time”. The Oppressed brushes for 20 seconds, maybe 30. The Boy needs help getting toothpaste on his toothbrush. The Gaggle and The Oppressed are upstairs but I am the only one who can help him. I am in the middle of doing dishes but I am told I have all day for that. Wife is on a conference call. A tantrum is welling up inside The Boy. I run upstairs to avoid a Polish hostage crisis.

7:55 – Ten minutes to “Go Time”. The Oppressed is furious at having to brush her teeth a third time. (It’s her second, but try telling her that.) The case against me is mounting when she finally gets a hold of Amnesty International. I remind her I’m a licensed foster parent and a Little League coach with multiple CORI’s run and passed. I like my chances.

8:05 – Kick the tires. Light the fires. I tell the children it’s time to make tracks. The Boy can’t find his shoes. The Oppressed can’t find her bag. I remind them everything is on the porch by the door. “Not those shoes.”

8:15 – Everyone in the car. Ready to go. The Boy needs to use the bathroom. I remind him we’ll be at the school soon. We arrive at the school. Children spill out of the car and run into the school. Can they beat the bell? They make it. I always pull up to the entrance. I leave the school giving signs of solidarity and support to other parents.

8:20 – Return home to fine various snacks and folders in the porch and kitchen. Round up the articles and head back to school to leave them with the secretary.