We here at Dear Mr. Supercomputer are always trying to think of ways we can give back to the community. And, much like cable news programming, we feel the best way to make this world a better place is to tell you how it should be run. Or in the absence of that, try to give you a few pointers along the way. We also like to yell real loudly about it. Maybe we're more like CNBC's Jim Cramer in that regard.
Anyway, we know a few things, in particular about fatherhood. In fact, we don't want to give away any Oscar spoilers, but we think we're in line for a World's Greatest Dad lifetime achievement award.
So today, and in the future, we'll be dishing out the fatherly advice for those wayward or future paterfamilias.
Today's edition: Trip to the supermarket.
OK, hot shot. You have two small kids to haul around and a shopping list that gets longer each time you look at it. Let's hear some pointers:
-- Make a map. Seriously, make a fucking map of the store. If not actually on paper, then know the store inside and out. And stick with that store. Never ever change (you've been warned). Why is this so critical and fatherly advice #1?
Cookies. Ice cream. Kids books. Popsicles. And even the occasional seasonal display of stuffed animals. Or worse: one of those crane games. Try explaining to a three year old that it's fucking impossible to actually win a stuffed animal from one of those things.
Long story short: the grocery store is a land mine. You need to know your route, otherwise on of these proverbial land mines will blow up in your face in the form of a screaming child.
-- Gum. You know how the kid always wants to eat everything that is in your damned cart? "No, really Daddy! I'm soooo hungry! I want to eat this!" "It's a box of detergent." And then you get to the checkout line and half the stuff is already opened up and 3% eaten? And you have to keep explaining to the checkout person that you don't need a replacement: we're the ones that opened it. Yeah, we hate that. It's embarrassing: "Can't you carnivorous vultures at least wait until you're in the car??!" the person thinks.
Solution: gum. Give some to your kid and they'll be fine the whole time. Or at least it'll give you a good 15 minutes of silence with which you can run from aisle to aisle tossing things in your cart like those old supermarket giveaway game shows.
-- Practice your "Oh my gosh, don't my kids say the darndest things?! I have no idea where she gets it!" laugh. This comes in handy when you're walking down the aisle and your child yells at the top of her lungs, "DADDY ARE YOU GOING TO GET SOME BEER??!!!" "Ha ha!" I say as the people around me write a note to call CPS later.
-- Park next to the cart return. Not the closest spot to the store. HUGE rookie mistake. It may be a few extra spots further, but nothing sucks worse than unloading your groceries into your car, hoisting in your kids and strapping them into their seats, then having the cart left over with no cart return in sight. Leave the cart there, and you're a dick. Go return the cart somewhere, and someone will jump in to your car and kidnap your kids and you won't have a ride home. It sucks both ways. So make sure you park next to the CART RETURN, not the store itself.
-- Don't get those stupid shitty carts that are dressed up as cars. Seriously, those things are a waste of everyone's time and space. Have you ever tried steering one of those things. It's like an 18-wheeler trying to navigate Lombard Avenue. Don't even bother.
Well, that's all the advice we have for you in regards to the dreaded supermarket trip. It's worth noting a conversation we once had with a friend who had two kids - at the time we just had the one:
Me: Man. Having two kids must be crazy. How do you take them to the store?
Her: Don't. Just don't do it.