Jon Sagara

Not the actor, but a friend of mine from college.

I just heard that he died in a small plane crash near Los Banos, CA.

I’m at a total loss for words.  My condolences go out to the Aiello and DeCicco families in their time of loss.

RIP, Mike.

Edit: I just received this.  Chances are if you’re reading my blog, you already have this information, but just in case:

Mike’s funeral and memorial reception is going to be this Thursday, April 5 starting at 1pm in Morgan Hill.  The place is still to be determined.  After the funeral, there will be a party in Mike’s honor.  That’s all the details I have for now.  I’ll send an email with more details as plans are made.

I wish the whole thing were a nasty April Fool’s joke, but it’s not…

The title of this article is “Man in unfortunate saw-mill penis incident“:

A man has been taken to hospital in Australia after his penis and groin got caught in the machinery at a saw mill.

Unfortunate?  Homer getting hives is unfortunate.  Diarrhea is unfortunate.  Kirsten Dunst’s teeth are unfortunate.

Getting your genitals stuck in a machine at a saw-mill is an unmitigated disaster.

Yeah… so, of all the special people in this household, guess which one of us came down with hives?

Yep.

Homer.

Apparently, introducing Troy into the environment was just too much too soon for the Homedog, and his skin couldn’t take the stress.  We should have known, because starting the day we brought Troy home, Homer was awake for 48 hours straight.  When we humans tried to sleep, Homer spent the entire time running back and forth from my side of the bed to the bassinet, getting constant status updates.

Actually, my theory is that Homer developed the hives because he was pissed off, and he knew there was nothing he could do about the new usurper.  Plus, at one point I think I heard Troy say to Homer, “I fart in your general direction,” and, “Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries,” and, ”Don’t come back, or I shall taunt you a second time,” but then again it could have been Little Superstar, who was standing outside the bedroom door dancing up a storm on our new Dance Dance Revolution machine. 

Honestly, I don’t know.

Maybe Homer just has bad skin.

That protocol being:

• Baby messes pants


• Parent changes baby’s diaper


• Baby waits longer than 5 seconds to mess pants again 

Late last night:

Troy’s butt went, “SSSSMMMUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPPPPP!”

And I was all, “Eeeewwwwwww!”

And he was like, “Wah!”

And I was all, “Yeah, dude, totally.”

And then I like, changed his diaper and stuff.

And then I was all, “There you go, Troy-Troy.  All better?”

And his butt was all, “SSSMUUUURPRLLLDDDERRFFFFFTTTTHHHPBBB!”

Daddy loves you, Troy.

You little bastard.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

So I was leaving my mother-in-law’s house yesterday to pick up Kelly from a wedding shower she had been attending.  I had little Troy Boy with me inside the MIL’s house, and I had set him in his car seat for safe keeping.  After I had packed up his diaper bag and loaded up the car, I went back inside and grabbed the car seat (with Troy) and snapped it into the base station in the back seat of my Tacoma.

Fast forward 30 minutes.  We had just pulled into Kelly’s dad’s place in West Sacramento to say hi.  The whole family were all outside shooting guns and doing tequila body shots, so we knew it was going to be a mellow, uneventful visit.  Grandpa Lee came over to say hello.  I hopped out to grab Troy from his car seat, and when I opened the back door, what did I see?  Little Troy, unbuckled, slumped over and almost sideways across the width of his seat.  It seems that in my haste to pack everything up and hit the road, I forgot to do the most basic of security checks and ensure that my little boy was securely strapped into his car seat.  Sadly, he was not.

Lucky for me, it was a very uneventful drive out to Lee’s house.  Things could have been so much worse, even if it were only a minor fender bender.

This episode prompted Lee to tell us about another father who was far more absent-minded than me.  Lee used to be a CHP officer, so he has all kinds of crazy stories about dealing with The General Public.  This particular time, a father had strapped his kid into his car seat.  While unlocking the car door, he set the car seat on the roof of the car.  Amazingly, he somehow forgot about the child as he climbed into the car, and took off driving.  At about 60 MPH, the wind finally blew the car seat off the top of the car.  Fortunately for all involved, the car seat hit the ground and slid along right-side-up until it came to a halt.  Lee says that the obviously distraught father ran as fast as he could to the car seat, anticipating the worst case scenario.  What did he find instead?  A happily smiling baby who had just enjoyed the ride of his life.

Moral of the story?  When transporting small humans (midgets excluded), check, double check, and then triple-secret double check once more that the little one is securely fastened to the car seat, and that said car seat is securely belted down inside the automobile.  Measure twice, cut once. 

Whatever.

Just be careful, jackass.  A child is a terrible thing to waste.

(Editor’s note: no children (or midgets) were harmed in the writing of this post.)

I just wanted to say a quick thanks to everyone who brought us dinners over the past week.  I have seen it done in the past for friends and coworkers who’d just had a new baby, but until you’re the couple actually trying to figure out this little gizmo they call a ”child”, you don’t realize how nice it is to not have to worry about preparing meals for yourselves.

So, from Kelly and me, a BIG thanks goes out to the following people for making this transition that much easier:

• Grandma and Grandpa Sagara (several times over)


• Grandma Scott (several times over)


• Christi and Garey White


• Beau and Michelle Offner

We owe you big time.  And all of the meals were fabulous, especially the home-cooked ones, which were easily Restaurant Quality™.

When changing a newborn baby boy’s diaper, always cover his little wang with a washcloth or some other type of absorbent material.

On a related note, just because said newborn baby boy pees all over the changing table, the blinds, and himself, doesn’t mean he’s done peeing.  Never underestimate his ability to reload and resume firing away.

Tons more where that came from.