You’ve gotta break a few eggs to make an omelette, right?
Over the last 9½ months, Charlie’s little turkey legs have been getting adequate rest, taking their vitamins…slowly gaining the strength to support his mammoth frame.
Last week, with Ava napping and Chuck Norris occupied with toys in the living room, I decided to fix myself a sandwich. I didn’t even get mayo on the second slice of bread when I heard the toy shopping cart coming towards me from the other room.
After catching this little gem, I put the sammie on hold and threw on my ‘Coach’ hat.
I wanted to get an Emmy-Award winning stroll through the house and wasn’t going to settle for anything less. Maybe I’ve been watching to0 much ‘Toddlers and Tiaras’ and the redneck stage mom inside of me was fighting to get out. I told Charlie that if he wanted to be a successful internet superstar, we were going to have to put in some time. This wasn’t Candyland or Chutes n’ Ladders cookies n’ milk time.
This was serious shit. Once we get this thing right and it hits YouTube with a standard ownership license, we’re looking for an endorsement deal from whoever in the hell manufactured this shopping cart, that up until now, has been good for nothing but busting up my ankles.
This outtake shows a father losing his patience under duress.
We were at each others throats. We needed to take five and regroup. Charlie made a few calls on his cell phone while he paced around the parking lot smoking a cigarette. I watched nervously out the window as I ate my sandwich, waiting for him to calm down and come back inside so we could nail this thing.
AND WE DID.
Well, Charlie nailed it. I, on the other hand, was all thumbs. Specifically…I used my big boner thumb to cover up the audio holes on my iphone.
Oh Lawd, I hope he doesn’t fire me after seeing this blog post…