Whenever anyone asks how his boys -- Bronko and Nagurski, aged three
and five -- are, Da-da says, "LOUD." But that doesn't begin to
illustrate the preternaturally unrestrained CLAWING, wrestling and
hooliganism going on at our domestic gulag. The boys vacillate from
brief moments (about two seconds) of cute and happy and wondrous --
and sometimes shockingly obedient -- to long toothy episodes of
chewing on each other like rabid badgers, but in a CUTE way.
Cuteness is a child's main line of defense. Without it... well, if
they acted the way they act while looking like toothy miniature
Ernest Bognines, we as parents would chuck them out the air-lock
posthaste. As Da-da's mentioned before, parenthood is somewhere
between Christmas and being roasted alive, and WE NEED A LITTLE
CHRISTMAS, even if it lasts five minutes. Without that little
cuteness window, all life on earth would cease to be.

Da-da has actually found himself discounting those reproducing humans
who don't have two or more boys. Families with a boy and a girl, or a
combination thereof, enjoy the even-ing out of of sexes; girls more
often than not balance out the boy influence in families... until
they become teens and all hell breaks loose and things reverse;
still, then it balances out the OTHER way. With two-plus-boy
families, you get all your emotional pain up front, pain that lasts
and lasts... until they become spastic nerfbag geeks. [sigh] Needless
to say, not many people inquire about Da-da's "day" anymore. If you
don't wanna know, don't ask.
by A Man Called Da-Da