iPood

You may have noticed a new, more mature Nerdling in 2014.  Whereas, 22.8% of my 2014 posts were of the "potty humor" variety, it has been 5 months since I've blogged about toilets.

I have not written one word about urinals... or GoGirls...or Stool Stools... or Bumper Dumpers in 2014.  

That's good, for me.

Being a more sophisticated and cultivated writer allows me to tackle pressing social and economic issues.  And write about, say, new  technological innovations available to today's toddlers. 

Like the CTA Digital 2-in-1 iPotty with Activity Seat for iPad.

I'm just so disappointed that my children are already potty trained.  

I can just imagine Kimmy and Linda sitting on their iPotty's.  

(BTW, I would recommend unsnapping that onesie before attempting to use the iPotty)

I checked out the iPotty on Amazon.com and it is very reasonably priced.  You can get this ingenious device for under $35! 

And the reviews were A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. 

"I know when my 1 year old is in endless business meetings throughout the day, he will now be able to still access all those data management programs and have that report on his kindergarten teachers desk first thing Monday morning. And I can reach him on Skype to make sure he got his power nap too."

"Thank you for this!  Finally! It's so much easier to teach children to drop the electronics in the toidy when they don't have to stand on tippytoes." 

It sounds like they may be coming out with an iPotty 2, based on this review:  

"I can't wait to see the new model to include the feeding tube and buckle strap. I won't ever have to interact with my child ever again."

Clearly, this product is a winner among parents: 

"I was really struggling to find a way to rot my child's brain more comprehensively. DVD player at the dinner table, Movies in the car, iPad on our flight, but I never could figure out how to fill the bathroom time with mindless distraction. Thanks iPotty. Now I don't have to talk to my kids at all!" 

"Not enough fecal bacteria on your iPad? Try this! It will really, really work."   

Not all of the reviews were stellar.  

"This item is ludicrous! I open it up and the thing is tiny. It's like they made it for children! Beware potential overflow."  

OMG.  Did he really think he could fit his man body on that iPotty?  What was he thinking?  

He should come to me for his toilet needs.  For, you see, I have the perfect product for him. 

The CTA Digital Pedistal Stand for iPad 2/3/4 with Roll Holder.  And its reviews are not too shabby, either:

"iPad'd, iPoo'd, iWiped. This product is a god sent for those who play their own "Game of Thrones" for hours on end."

Translating the Bark

I believe that Kevin and I are on the same wave length most of the time. 

When he drops his ball at my feet and barks up at me, I feel relatively confident that he's saying, "Hey!  Throw the ball!  I want to run after it!" 

But what if he's saying, "This ball smells like cat poop.  Can you stick it in the dishwasher?"

There's really only one way to tell for sure.   I need a Bow-lingual Dog Voice Translator.

I discovered the Bow-lingual Dog Voice Translator on the Japan Trend Shop Web site and it appears to be the perfect solution to my conundrum!

Except the Bow-lingual Dog Voice Translator would translate Kevin's voice into Japanese.  And I don't speak Japanese.   

Translating from Dog to Japanese to English would be way too much work for me.  And beyond my capabilities.

Unless...

I could find an English version of the Bow-lingual Dog Voice Translator. I checked Amazon.com and, SCORE!

Except, when I read the product review I realized...   

There is a genuine risk to learning what your dog is actually saying.

 In fact, one reviewer learned that his dog was making fun of him.

"Every time he barks he is saying something that mocks me! He makes fun of my weight, the way I dress, even the way I cook. He has such foul language too! I did not know a dog could cuss like that!"

I looked down at Kevin. 

"You like me don't you, Kevin?  You would never make fun of me, would you?"
 

He barked, as if to say, "Of course, I love you!"  

Or maybe, "You look ridiculous in that outfit.  And you can't carry a tune in a bucket, you #&%$$@ nerd."

Do I really want to know the truth?  Maybe I'd be better off ignorant.  I began to have doubts.

I sat down on the floor and looked Kevin directly in the eye and began to pet him.  "Be honest with me, Kevin.  You like me, right?"



He wagged his tail. 

For crying out loud!  How could I question Kevin's love for me?  He is the sweetest dog in the world.  

He wagged his tail some more and began to lick my hand enthusiastically. 

"Oh, Kevin, how could I doubt you?"

He gave a cute little bark, as if to say, "Silly Lou.  Of course I love you!"

Or maybe...

 "Your hand smells like your turkey sandwich.  Is there any left in the fridge?"

Honing a Hobby

I'm really no different than other parents.  I just want best for my kids. 

I want Kevin to have all the advantages he needs to succeed in life.  

Sure, he has a lot of toys and is well dressed.  But he really hasn't been involved in the arts since his starring role in Anything Goes. 

I worry about his lack of intellectual stimulation. 

I suppose I should be placated by his focus.  He does have incredible stamina.  (God knows his sisters couldn't stay on task for half as long Kevin when it comes to chasing balls.)

But aside from dropping Busy Bones on the floor, squeaking his ball, and barking at cats, birds and squirrels, Kevin really has no hobbies.  

Research has found that kids who have a hobby are generally healthier, both emotionally and physically, than those whose main activities include watching TV and playing video games.  And squeaking toy balls.

To that end, I decided to teach Kevin how to play the piano. 

He approached the piano with curiosity, carefully studying the music.  I gave him a quick lesson in music theory.  We started out with O Sole Mio, in the key of C.  

He listened intently as I explained the time signature, and how quarter notes get one beat.

And he began to play!

 
Sure, he missed a couple notes, but it really wasn't bad for his first attempt.

In fact, at the risk of sounding like one of "those" parents, I think he's rather gifted.   

Run Forrest Run!

Leaves of three.  Let it be?

Are you stinkin' kidding me?  Leaves of three, get the hell out of there.  As in Run, Forrest run!

Did I run?  No.  I just kept pulling those vines off the shrubs in our back ’40.

Why?   Agricultural arrogance.

I thought that just because I could grow tomatoes, I was a horticultural prodigy.

It is true that my tomato plants, of which I am inordinately proud, are ready to audition for the part of Audrey 2 in Little Shop of Horrors. 

But who am I kidding?  I’m not ready for the 4-H.  I’m  Green Acres' Lisa.  A failure at farming.

I don’t know my grass poison ivy from a hole in the ground. In fact I created the hole in the ground by pulling out the poison ivy.
I'm hanging up my overalls. 

Ya know what?  I had another moment of self realization as a result of my poison ivy outbreak.

I rest my chin in my hands. A lot.

And I apparently rested my chin in my hands a lot after weeding those damn leaves of three.

Because Poison Ivy has infiltrated my neck and chin.  And it itches like there is no stinkin’ tomorrow. 

Just writing about it makes me want to itch it.

But I can’t.  Because if I scratch it, it gets itchier. 

And it spreads.  It’s already made its way up my cheeks. 

Does anyone have any sandpaper I can borrow????

OMG. It's headed towards my brain!!!!!

Nevermind.

I just found a homemade poison ivy remedy online!  I'm sure it's going to cure all.

It's made from scratch.

Notes from a Nerdling's Brother

When I saw my bother's  Facebook post I decided to ask him to be my guest blogger.

Of course, he agreed.  How could he not?

But when I asked him rather politely to take some photos to accompany the blog, he tuned all diva on me.  Something about having to check with his agent.  

At the risk of turning this into a big Khardishian brouhaha, I took the bulls by the horn, so to speak, and staged the photos myself.
 
(You're welcome, Tom.)

So here goes....

You know how sometimes you try to change your routine to spice up your life a bit? Maybe put orange rinds in your cottage cheese, or hide some bb's in your ice cream just for texture? 

One summer I went completely nuts and decided to have an intra-personal fingernail growing contest, just to see which index finger grew a faster and hardier nail. You'll never guess which one came out ahead and I'll never tell.

Well, today I decided to go off the charts and reverse the order in getting dressed. 

Lemme splain. 

For years I have stepped into my underwears left leg first, etc. Today I decided to put my right foot first. 

You'd think I had bumped the earth off its axis. I couldn't do it. I kept falling down. 

Finally I sat on a chair and got er done. Then I realized I had put them on backwards, so the vent was facing the outback, and the front was just plain cloth.

I'm one of those guys who doesn't use the vent anyway, but the underwears felt weird facing the wrong direction, so decided to start over and reinsert myself into the underwears. 

When I put them on rightside frontwards, I mindlessly went back to the old pattern. Left leg first, and it went just as smooth as you can imagine.

So tomorrow I recommend you try to put your underwears on in the reverse order and let me know if you fall down, or what. Thank you. I will report your findings to the universe.

I have a confession to make here.  I strongly adhere to the practice of transparency in journalism. If I lose my readers' trust, I am nothing but a nerdling blogger.  

My brother Tom is pictured in only one of the three photos in this blog.  

Angelina Jolie posed for the bottom two.