This week’s comic is based on a real incident that happened to me this Saturday. There is no embellishing. That was exactly what happened. Now yes, it’s not a big deal, but it was a first for me. I’m the father of a one-year-old, so I’m new to the world of snotty parents being dicks to each other.
I was just standing there, watching my son—who is one of if not the youngest kid in the entire playground—stare at a nail or a piece of dirt or whatever had captivated his attention. I was making sure he didn’t fall through a gap or that some wild 6-year-old didn’t run by and knock him over, or that he didn’t eat a a used lollipop off the floor—and that takes a lot of concentration. So I was not at all prepared for some stupid bitch mom to get all passive aggressive with me. I was speechless, which is probably better off, because I walked away without stooping to her level, and she wound up feeling stupid. But really, there’s a huge playground. The bridge was one thing out of at least 50 her kid could have played on. Did she have to go pick on the tiniest baby in the entire park when her daughter didn’t even give a shit about the bridge in the first place?
So I’m glad she was wrong and felt stupid, even if only for a few short moments, and in my head I went all CSI on her. Well, looks like I’ll be dealing with a lot more asshole parents in the future, so that should be more comic fodder. Only next time, it won’t be as nice. In the comic that is. In real life I try to keep it civil.
I know, babies can’t really do things out of spite, like in this week’s Dustinland, but sometimes it sure feels like they can. You know, I can deal with not going out as much, being pickier with concerts, renting DVDs instead of going to the movies… but sometimes on the weekend I just want to sit down on the couch, drink some coffee and read the paper. Is that too much to ask? Does he even have to take that from me? I mean, I love the little bastard but come on dude, give a dad a break.
I just love the idea of a baby as an adult, which is what this week’s comic is all about. Babies just do so much weird stuff. In fact, pretty much everything they do is weird if you put it in the context of an adult. I mean, if you looked over at your coworker and they had their entire fist in their mouth, that would be weird. Well, depending on your job, I guess. For 99.9% of people, that would be weird. Basically, if you don’t work in a sex dungeon, you don’t see people sucking on fists very often. See—this is what I mean about babies. You start talking about the stuff they do and you somehow end up talking about ball gags. That’s awesome.
Yup. Another comic about babies. I’m kinda dizzy right now for some unknown reason so I’ll just leave it at that. High five.
Everyone I told about the dream in this week’s comic laughed hysterically, so I guess that’s a good thing for my comic, but it really was a sucky dream. You know, dreams are so real, even when they don’t make sense. And the thing is, it’s bad enough to have a shitty mean dog instead of a baby—I’m also allergic.
I don’t have much to say about this week’s comic, except that Dustin Jr. seems to hate being held in any position that is comfortable for me, yet loves any position that will eventually lead to nerve and bone damage in his poor pep-pep. That may be my fault though, since I am a lanky, bony bastard, and it’s probably not that comfortable lying on me. It’s probably like sleeping on the floor of an apartment that’s right above a boiler room, with a thin carpet that lets you feel all the pipes running underneath the floor. Those would be my ribs.
Really though, when you have something good going on and the little one is suddenly chillin, you’ll do anything to keep it going, even if it means an eventual visit to the chiropractor.
For this week’s Dustinland, I skimmed through my notebook of comic ideas and stopped when I got to a note that said: “Babies are cute except when they poop.” And that about sums up the behind the scenes for this week’s gem.
I think almost everyone goes through the discussion featured in this week’s Dustinland, although the conclusion is probably different most of the time. You know, it’s a tough one. I’m getting older, my friends are having kids, and I think about it a lot. It’s scary. I mean, talk about responsibility, talk about a life-altering event. Once you have kids, that’s it. No more joking around. You’ve got someone relying on you for everything, and a hangover is not very conducive to that.
But you know, they say you’re never really ready for a kid, so I guess at some point you just have to do it. A while ago, I was considering never doing it, but once I saw my friends making it work, I stopped being petrified of the idea and moved into just plain scared and stressed out, which is my normal state of mind, so that means I’m good to go. One of these days.
Not today though.
***Update — I guess the boob thing does well over at Reddit.