Tag: childhood

Getting tuna off the school lunch menu is every kid’s dream

(Because you’re here, I can assume you haven’t woken up in a jail cell, someone’s yard or a truck bed in Tijuana, Mexico. What better way to celebrate than having a flashback? And just because Flashback Sunday is a weekly feature regardless of where you happen to wake up, it does’t make our celebration any less special. As always, we’re going to roll up our sleeves and dig into the archives, back to a time when — in my innocence — I thought “blog followers” was just another name for adult film groupies…)

The typical school lunch … at least in the eyes of your child.
Kids today are lucky.

Their school cafeteria experience will never include Mrs. Kidzyak’s “creamed tuna surprise,” which is still sitting in the shape of an ice cream scoop somewhere in my digestive tract.

Thirty years from now, they won’t be getting up from the couch and suddenly burp tuna, peas and what I’m pretty sure was Elmer’s Glue. And they will never have to explain why they can’t go into a deli because of an irrational fear of anyone in a hair net.

The reason today’s kids won’t have to experience these things is because a recent study suggests canned tuna contains traces of mercury, which experts agree is potentially hazardous if consumed in large doses — which is always a concern when it comes to kids and their love of tuna. Continue reading Getting tuna off the school lunch menu is every kid’s dream

Son, going ape for girls starts early

image At age 14, my son is beginning to understand a fundamental truth regarding the complex nature of the male/female relationship, which he summed up with the following conclusion:

Girls make boys act stupid.

He then offered irrefutable evidence to support his theorem:

Brittany told Joey to act like a monkey at lunchtime. And he did. Until Mrs. Flipendorf caught him stealing someone’s banana.

There was no debating his conclusion since it was clearly air tight. Instead, we discussed the ramifications of this groundbreaking sociological insight and how, as a man, he essentially had two options in catching a girl’s attention. The first is to act cool; the second is to act like a monkey. As his father, it was my responsibility to break the news to him that, as my son, he better start working on the monkey thing. Continue reading Son, going ape for girls starts early

Apparently, G.I. Joe is no match for Barbie’s mojo

(Do you suffer from unsightly vision? Continual breathing? An itchy bladder? Reptile disfunction? You’re not alone! Join millions others who suffer these afflictions each week during Flashback Sunday, when we dig deep into the archives — back when I thought “Freshly Pressed” was a kinky website for people with a Pillsbury Dough Boy fetish. And while this week’s Flashback won’t cure any of your symptoms, it might help with regularity…)

Apparently, G.I. Joe and Steve Austin use their acute eyesight for more than just scoping out the bad guys.
The act of “playing” is a crucial part of how a child establishes self image and a basic understanding of the world. I know this because, as a progressive father of today, I have read extensively about this very topic — which is why I progressively freaked out when I found my son playing in the shower with a Barbie doll.

It wasn’t the fact that he was playing with a doll that bothered me, it was the fact that it was still completely intact — something I don’t expect from a child who routinely disassembles my office chair and a good portion of my desk in less than four minutes using nothing but a three-piece “Bob the Builder” tool kit.

I decided something needed to be done. It was time to enlist the help of an old friend; it was time for G.I. Joe to break Barbie’s mojo. Continue reading Apparently, G.I. Joe is no match for Barbie’s mojo

Don’t become the victim of an unprovoked gravy ambush

Wait! There’s nothing wrong with your computer monitor! It’s just Flashback Sunday! Which is when we go back in time and feature a column from the past, back when I thought “Freshly Pressed” was an annual report of steamroller fatalities. However, given that this is Cinco de Mayo, you could be having an entirely different kind of flashback experience, depending on how much tequila you have already consumed. Either way, I’m glad you’re here. But if you start to feel nauseous, please face away from your monitor — which is something regular readers of this blog already know, regardless of what day of the week it is…

Maintaining “situational awareness” is key to preventing yourself from becoming the victim of a gravy ambush.
Admittedly, the closest I have been to an actual military “hot zone” was when, on a grey August day in 1977, my Cub Scout troop was deployed to sell candy on the same block as the Girl Scouts. Our prime objective was Hilltop Road, which was a critical strategic vector. At least in terms of foot traffic.

Because our troop transport had overheated in the Carl’s Jr. drive-thru, the Girl Scouts had already claimed the high ground next to a busy movie theater. Outnumbered and without tactical advantage, we implemented our most effective defensive strategy, which was to form a tight perimeter directly behind 200-pound Billy Schlependorf. Continue reading Don’t become the victim of an unprovoked gravy ambush

My greatest childhood fear? Being bitten by a radioactive moth

(It’s Sunday and a time for reflection, unless you’re so hung over it hurts to look in the mirror. It’s also the time we dig deep into the archives during another Flashback Sunday, revisiting a column or blog post from the days back when I thought “Freshly Pressed” was a site for French press coffee snobs…)

I still live in fear of being bitten by a lame radioactive insect, like the newly discovered “Poodle Moth.” (goggles are optional)
For most of us, there comes a time in our lives when we must face the truth, and accept the fact we will never actually possess any type of super-human powers. This includes the ability to fly, shoot laser beams out of our eyes, or look good in a skin-tight costume.

As a child, I spent countless hours thumbing through comic books and dreaming of the day I would be bitten by a radioactive insect — and knowing full well that, with my luck, it would probably be something stupid like a moth:

“Curses! It’s Moth Man, here to foil my evil plans! HOW CAN I STOP HIM? Hey — maybe I’ll try this porch light…”

In fact, I was so sure that I would end up as a lame super hero that, with the help of my friends, we came up with a plan to MAKE me into “Spider-man” before there was any chance of me being bitten by a radioactive moth, ear wig, silverfish or stink bug. Continue reading My greatest childhood fear? Being bitten by a radioactive moth