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After checking the weather for the fortieth time, I noticed that Sunday would be an ideal day to be outside and finally get my plants started. I threw on some shades, garden gloves and my hat, grabbed a beer and headed outside. Anyone that knows me knows I’m big into gardening. I spent the 80-degree day outside, planting peppers and moving my strawberries. Ordinarily, I do my gardening prep while Mrs. Madoff cleans out the flower bed in the front of our house, a task that normally takes no longer than an hour and a half. It’s cathartic and I thoroughly enjoy seeing the plants go from last year’s seeds to this year’s peppers. Plus, I get to wear a silly hat, be outside, and drink beer.
Today is a beautiful day to work in the garden #strawberriesfordays pic.twitter.com/fDhO2Iqx3K
— MadoffInvestment (@BLMInvestment) April 15, 2018
After lugging the various bags of soil and tools to my front porch, within literal seconds, I was greeted by the neighborhood posse of children. These kids roam the street and I only know their names because their parents yell at them constantly. They were interested in what I was doing and wanted to help. Who am I to deny some 4 to 6-year-old children the opportunity to learn from a seasoned late 20s man trapped in a 70-year-old grandmother’s body?
The issue is, I’m the 70-year-old grandmother with a sailor’s mouth. I’m at the age where the first wave of friend marriages have started having kids and they are impressionable. Friends and family alike remind me to, “watch your language.” I have to constantly be mindful of my surroundings, even though in my head I know that the kids have heard all the swear words already.
I always feel like society has painted men that interact with kids as creepy. Children love me and I’m not sure why. Most people (read: Mrs. Madoff) will tell you because I’m on their level but that’s because I’m the fun one. It’s hard enough on a guy with a beard living in sin with an unmarried woman with no desire for kids. Every tantrum and crying fit I see a child throw is a tsunami to the small ember of a desire for children, but like an uncle, you can rile them up and then give them back if they aren’t yours. Not a bad arrangement and their parents get a few minutes to breathe.
Every day when I get home from work, the neighborhood posse is outside which is refreshing because the free-range parenting that I grew up with seems to be the exception rather than the rule. These kids have no fear of knocking on my door to ask if I’ll let the dogs out to play with them. We’re the engaging young people of the neighborhood with cool toys. I’ve had several of them just walk into my house and scare the ever-loving shit out of me.
I’ve been doing some coaching lately and it’s always awkward when I have the, “So which one is your kid?” question. Some of my best coaches were people like me, younger guys with no kids that wanted to give back to the sport. My friends have kids so that’s my usual in — “I’m Pete’s friend. I play hockey with him. We’ve been friends for a while!” My friend, Peter, is a fan favorite and all around quality character so that is my street cred. I’ve even been approached to possibly coach one of the three youth teams this fall.
As more of my friend’s start populating the earth, I’m in a situation where I have to be on my best behavior. While my friends may not care that their old fraternity brother accidentally teaches them every swear word under the sun, their wives take exception to Uncle Bernie and will cut the already limited time I’m allotted to a friend I’ve likely known longer than them. I also try to be respectful of others wishes, something that Postgrad Madoff has been working on because College Madoff would certainly not make such concessions.
Children are our future. They are also impressionable little fuckers and if you say any of Carlin’s Seven Dirty Words, you best know they will not only repeat them but snitch on you when they ask where they heard it (ask me how I know). I do my best to tone it down but I can’t tell you how many times I’d be telling a story and, “You know XYZ? That mother… really mean person is a complete piece of work.” You see, I firmly believe people can coexist and be respectful of each other, even when they sell their soul to the fruit of their loins. In return, I even have windows on my industrial van.
Respond
Madoff
I specialize in damage control, being the drunkest at any and all functions and social assassination. Always appreciate a strong gif game. Follow me on Twitter. Sometimes I put up cool stuff about golfing at the local dirt tracks.
@BLMInvestment
Actually had a woman at a brewery tell me to watch my mouth because I was swearing near her kid.
At. A. Brewery.
I actively patronize restaurants and places that don’t allow children.
Kids at Breweries are a big pet peeve of mine. I never understand why they are there.
Young parents in my town routinely host childrens birthday parties at breweries. It drives me insane, I came here to drink, not to hear 15 5 year olds screaming at each other for two hours
Please tell me what city you live in so I can make a note to never visit it.
I hope it’s New York.
Sorry to disappoint, it’s Durham NC
I’m in the triad. Sup?
Raleigh NC – hate it when people bring their kids to boxcar on a saturday or sunday afternoon.
That’s strange behavior.
Same thing happen to me at a bottomless brunch spot. Granted I guess it was Sunday, but look, if you wanna relive glory days while lugging your kids around, be prepared for some fucks and shits to get tossed out. I’m not on the weak drink train just yet, so on Sunday’s I might hop on that blackout train.
I understand a parent wanting to get out and do fun stuff every now and then… but that completely defeats the purpose when you bring your spawn to a place like a brewery. Hire a GD babysitter, you psychos.
I’ve noticed an influx of babies at brunch while mom and dad suck down mimosas
Sometimes I have trouble keeping my mouth in check in front of The Homie.
Said “oh shit” in front of my 3 year old niece a few weeks ago on accident. My sister texted me saying she dropped her PB&J sandwich a few days ago and said, “oh shit.” She’s 3… kids remember everything.
Didn’t mean to mention she’s 3 twice. My b.
EVERYTHING. I try really hard to not swear in front of my nieces but they definitely pick up on swear words because of me.
Also, my 3 year old niece met my ex boyfriend ONCE just before her second birthday and she still asks where he is every time I visit (which is at least once a month).
Kids these days need to get used to swears early because once the economy collapses, they’ll be ready to communicate effectively and also they’ll have a lot more important shit to worry about so words are a non issue especially when those same adults that get offended by swears tell their kids that sticks and stones may break their bones but words will never hurt them so they’re already full of shit lol
I’ve been coaching middle and high school lacrosse for 7 years now and I swear for emphasis all the time to the kids. By adding that “sentence enhancement” the lesson at the core of the profanity sticks and they become better athletes and kids by remembering those lessons.
Been coaching high school football for 4 years. Swearing is my “attention getter”.
What’s the Post Grad Single Dad’s take on this?
We discussed swearing on Episode #2 of DadGum with Madison: https://soundcloud.com/grandexlabs/dadgum-episode-2-with-ceo-madison-wickham
Thanks for the heads up! Been meaning to check out the new cast, looking forward to hearing the breakdown
Madoff sounds like Grant’s godfather
First time seeing a friend’s baby, said he was “fucking adorable”. Infant so it’s fine, probably should work on catching myself though
I got a little heat for teaching my nephew the “pull my finger” fart joke. Totally worth it though.
I honestly don’t see how parents these days can shelter their kids from swearing. Then again, I’m the one who laughs at YouTube videos of kids swearing. Who cares?
I personally look forward to the day when my daughter looks at me and says, “I don’t give a shit about Word Girl anymore.”