Well I'm here to say - BACK OFF!!! All we were doing was procreating, and sometimes that type of thing takes time and energy. Lots of sweet, horny energy. Actually what really happened was I kept on having to go to my dumb job, and coming home with only 3 or 4 hours before my bedtime made things complicated. It takes time to write all these big words and I just wasn't finding it.
On top of that, we made a baby! (Hooray humanity!!) Now that he knows how to roll over and put everything he can handle in his mouth, I don't have to watch him as much, so I can spend more time with you the reader writing our dumb blog. Just kidding, Russell the dog is keeping an eye on him for me and he's a pro. He knows to bark two times for help and three times for the postman, or something like that, basically he keeps barking if he sees something that might interest me.
So what have I learned now that I am the father of a bouncy baby boy? I have learned this - There is NO WAY that Superman could have landed on this Earth as a baby. You know how I know this? Because I have a child ( I love jumping on that soapbox). Superman could have landed on Earth, but he would have been shipped off to Area 51 in about 2 weeks tops. There is no way that Jonathan and Martha Kent could have handled that little super boy without breaking every bone of theirs in the process.
Remember that scene in Superman when the little super baby picks the truck up and saves Jonathan Kent from certain amputation? A baby with that kind of super strength would be a nightmare to deal with. (Speaking of amputation, did you here about that guy in Connecticut who had to saw his own arm off? Dude, that is why I don't clean behind the boiler. Who's gonna go looking behind there? If anyone gives you shit about a little dirt behind the boiler you label them an asshole and you don't invite them over ever again. DON'T CLEAN BEHIND THE BOILER!!!)
My little boy has a nice grip on him and he is at that stage where he grabs at everything. He grabs at hair, he grabs at the dog, he even grabs at people's boobs. He's kind of like a drunk frat boy at a Limp Bizkit concert. I could only imagine what that grip would feel like if he had super human strength. I would have no choice but to do whatever he desired. I would be his slave. I wouldn't want that super squeeze on my already broken fingers, that would hurt like a mother.
Maybe I would put up with that crap if he was my own kid, but there is no way I am tolerating that shit from some hillbilly inbred orphan I found in the middle of a cornfield. That kid would have to become a science experiment at some secret government base that may or may not exist in the southern portion of Nevada. Adios spaceboy.