Call me Dad

The new phase of my life has officially begun. So far so good. Although, I have had a couple of horrifying diaper changing experiences that I wouldn’t wish on Angelina Jolie. Due to help from Becca’s mom and then my mom I was able to postpone the sleep deprivation, but now it’s here in full force. I’m tired and maybe even just a wee bit cranky. For details on Ruby’s birth or how things are going I suggest you take a look at Becca’s blog. She has the go to blog for updates on our growing family. I have the go to blog for Angelina Jolie jokes. Here are some jokes that could have the punch line of “Angelina Jolie”.

What’s brown and sticky?

What do you get when you cross an Elephant and a Rhino?

“Knock Knock”
“Who’s there?”
“Angelina Jolie”
“Go away.”

A prostitute, a slimy hagfish, a democrat, and a balloon filled with yak boogers walk into a bar. They were all Angelina Jolie.

Why do I not like Angelina Jolie? I don’t know. I think that one time Alan said he didn’t like Catherine Zeta Jones, and I later thought he had said Angelina Jolie, so I hated Angelina on behalf of Alan and then when I realized that C. Zeta should have been the true focus of my animosity, it was too late. The seed had been sown. That’s how I remember it at least. Alan, you can correct me if I’m wrong.

So, I like having a baby around the house. It keeps things interesting. I don’t feel like a dad yet, but talking to people who have three kids has taught me that you never really feel like a dad, or at least what you thought it would feel like to be a dad. That’s okay though because I don’t think Ruby thinks of herself as a daughter yet either.