father’s day.

last sunday

was father’s day.

yes, i’m well aware of

the fact that it’s

a bullshit holiday

created to help sell

greeting cards and

grills and ties

and other

garbage, but for me,

everyday is father’s

because i’m lucky

enough to have maddy

in my life.

so really, father’s day

was like any

other sunday for us.

except on this

sunday i was

given a little

book dictated

by maddy

(and transcribed by brooke)

telling me why

she loves me.

here are a

few of my favorites:

“i love eating chicken & watching adventure time with my daddy.”

“i love telling jokes & going to museums with daddy.”

“i love that when i go to bed i dream about daddy flying through the air with a jet pack”

“i love daddy because he gets me presents for my birthday. for my 5th birthday i would like a rocket pack that flies for real.”\

brooke was

feeling a bit

under the weather

so after breakfast

maddy and i

decided that the

day would be filled

with fun stuff that

we both love,

first, we headed to her

favorite museum in

the city, the page museum,

better know to her

as the tar pits.

(her mother and i lived across the street from the place for several years and i always dreamed of bring my future child here).

as we drove

toward the place

we saw something

awesome and just had

to stop and take

a look:

maddy & lenin.

maddy & lenin.

maddy & lenin.

minutes later

we were here

maddy & giant sloth.

and i was

having some

serious flashbacks.

liz and friend.

liz and friend.

we sat in the grass

for a few minutes,

maddy on

my lap as

i told her again

about the time

her mom and i

had a picnic

in the exact

same spotting we

were sitting at that moment,

just a few

days before we

knew for sure that

she was in

her mommy’s tummy.

maddy’s seen the

photos, heard the

stories and

been to the

places before,

madeline.

(taken sept. 26, 2009)

but now

that she’s a little

bit older

she’s putting it

all together in

an entirely new way,

which is incredibly awesome.

maddy found some

random tar bubbles

on the grounds

checking out the tar.

before heading in

to walk through the museum

mammoth skeleton.

for like, the

50th time in

the past few months.

it’s fun to hear

her talking about

all of the skeletons

she’s seen

so many times before,

the process of animals

getting stuck in,

and dying in

in the tarpits,

and best of all

correcting random adults

(who’ve clearly never been to the place)…

“they are not sabertooth tigers. they are sabertooth cats.”

biiiiiiggggg difference, people.

don’t forget that.

(she makes me feel pretty stupid sometimes, considering i’m 30 years older than she is and i’m learning all of this stuff along with her).

after our

walk through the

museum, we took a

little break outside

maddy & me.

maddy & me.

as she talked

about the

mammoth statue stuck

in the tar

“that’s the mommy stuck in the tar and that’s the daddy and the baby not in the tar because the big one not in the tar has a penis.”

(awesome).

we kept exploring,

maddy & lights.

photo

photo

on the escalator at lacma.

and playing

photo

then maddy made

me a leash, attached

it to me,

called me her

“pet rabbit” then

tied me to a pole

while she ran

off to play

with her pretend jet pack.

i was told i was her pet rabbit.

eventually i was

untied and she took

me on a walk

walking me.

during which

she saw a woman

sunning herself

on the grass, wearing

a rather tiny bikini

and asked rather loudly,

“daddy? why is that lady not wearing any clothes?”

oh man. this is

the stage i’ve

worried about for awhile…

the “loud, and very

public vocalization of every

single unfiltered thought

she has” stage.

funny later,

yes, but uncomfortable

at the time.

on the way

home so we

could both

take a nap,

we sang along

to some of her

favorite songs:

after nap time, brooke

was feeling a bit

better and had

a brilliant idea.

“let’s go to that driving range on wilshire.”

oh. i’m not much

of a golfer

(fact: i am a fucking horrible golfer)

but, i’ve been

wanting to visit this

place for like,

12 years now,

having seen it

tucked behind some

buildings in the middle

of los angeles,

which just seemed

so unnatural to me

for some reason.

so we headed to korea town,

stopping long enough

for me to take a

couple of photos

of some of the art

near our neighborhood:

photo

photo

photo

we arrived at

the golf place,

asked to rent

some clubs

(they even had a maddy-sized driver)

and asked for

a bucket of balls.

well, as it turns

out, you don’t

get buckets of balls

at this place,

which left me

totally confused.

it wasn’t until

we got upstairs

that the ball

question was answered.

let’s just say i’ve

never been more

amazed by technology in

my entire life.

(you can see it below).

for all i know,

all driving ranges are

like this now-a-days,

but i wouldn’t

know because i

haven’t been to

one in years.

anyway. i was a little

nervous about my

own ability

to hit a ball straight

(aka, not hit the person next to me).

then there was maddy.

she had never

even picked up a

golf club in

her life, and we

were one story

up so if she

let the golf club

fly, well, things

could get bad.

but what the hell,

here goes:

trying to help.

trying to help.

brooke.

swinging.

swinging.

trying to help.

trying to help.

practice.

hitting golf balls.

practice.

ready to take another swing.

i think she was saying, "enough photos, daddy."

(is that modern golf technology just magical?)

i’m happy to report

that maddy was the

only one of us to

hit someone

with a ball

(she hit the guy next to us in the ankle with a very slow-moving ball. he was awesome and just laughed).

and no one let

a club fly.

all of this

is even more surprising

because at the end

of the event,

brooke let me

in on a little secret…

it was her first

time swinging a golf club.

(i’m glad i didn’t know that bit of info until the end).

that night before

bed, as if to

reaffirm the

subtle and not so

subtle hints she’d dropped

earlier, maddy mentioned

that jet pack thing again.

“i really hope i get a jet pack for my birthday.”

“maddy. that may be a little hard for me to get.”

“but they’re so cool.”

“i know. how about you just dream about one tonight?”

“okay. i had fun today.”

“me too.”

“i love you, daddy.”

“i love you too, maddy.”

and as i

walked away from

her room,

i heard her yell,

“don’t forget about the jet pack for my 5th birthday!”

oh man.

anyone know

where i

can get a

jet pack on

the cheap?

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