Hero Brian Took My Son’s F-Bomb Virginity

Parenting is capital “D” difficult. Can I get an “Aaa-men!”. Restraint is difficult. Showing restraint as a parent is an elevated level of difficult. (I’m feeling every parent reader nodding enthusiastically in camaraderie agreement). So, when I hear and read about how evil video games are or how children shouldn’t watch television, I retaliate with a Blah! Blah! Blah! and a roll of the eyes. I’ve been a parent a few times over for 17 long, long years. Without either of these things, parenting and restraint would have been even more difficult, not to mention down right dangerous. In moderation and yes, with supervision, both are just fine and desperately needed in our abode.  But just as life would have it, we slipped a bit in the supervision department. Well, more like full on, greased up, slip-n-slide. Not the first time though. It happened once before when our oldest was only 13; it was such a traumatic experience… for me! We forgot to activate the parental restrictions on our cable boxes after moving in to a new place. No biggie, what would my 13-year-old angel do with that anyway? Well, I’ve been sworn to non-bloggable secrecy on the details of that evening. But it did end with a stiff drink and lots of ugly crying…again, from me. Nonetheless we thought we learned our lesson.

cristian

Fast forward to our now 5-year-old, our sweet innocent kindergartener. Our bushy-tailed, inquisitive baby. Thanks to early onset peer pressure he was introduced and captivated very quickly by Minecraft. Sounds innocent enough. Just wait! We researched the game and it was actually rated as a beneficial, thought-provoking, building skilled game for kids. Great! Pat ourselves on the back for careful parenting. Yeah, just wait, it’s coming! Sitting at the dining table one evening last month, family time with the kids, we allowed each to play their respective games as we passed the time. A sudden BOOM, I’m displaced. The light goes dim and I’m feeling faint. My ears are bleeding in pain and horror as an F-bomb, AN F-BOMB, gets launched from across the table. (No laughing matter, I’m not overreacting here).

f-bomb logo

The small  perpetrator, standing on the chair hunched over with his hands planted on the table on each side of his tablet, stared at me like a deer in headlights after hearing the gasp that apparently escaped my mouth. This boy, my angel, who had no idea what this word meant surely understood WHEN to use it. He got angry and out it spewed. My brain begins to race. A thousand thoughts in a split second. I had to react, but what was the best reaction? If I get angry he’ll have this as his future secret weapon to spear through my motherly heart. Note to self: Don’t get angry. If I laugh or shrug it off, soon he’ll join forces with the two-year old to F-bomb the house to oblivion. Do. Not. Laugh. So with a deep stern, controlled voice I ask who did he hear that word from. I’m ready for him to quickly throw a classmate under the bus. I’m ready to take that information and march up to this troublemaker of a kid, this menace and give him the needed direction that apparently he hasn’t learned in his own home.

minecraft-xbox-one-edition

Hero Brian.

What? Who?

Hero Brian.

Did you just say Hero Brian? Who’s Hero Brian?

My fawn in headlights does his best to enlighten me as to who’s tainted him.  This jeopardizing mischief-maker was no kid. Bambi here points to his tablet. What? There’s cursing in Minecraft? How did we miss that? How did YOU miss that as I turn to the Stag sitting next to me and accuse him of missing this very important detail in his research. This so-called Hero Brian is actually called Herobrine but my five-year old understood it as Hero Brian. This grown man is a voice in various YouTube Minecraft tutorials, which my son has been following. Wait…you were approved to play the game, not to follow some grown potty-mouthed man hiding behind a kid’s game to create a cooler world for himself.

Who told you about YouTube tutorials? You can’t even spell complete words, how did you find a Minecraft tutorial? And he took every one of my concerns, every one of my questions and answered them in the most simplistic honest way only a five-year old can. Part of me was amazed how such a small person handled this with the grace that he did, as opposed to…well…me. I was not seduced by his cuteness though, I stayed focused, I kept my glare. Ok, fine, we didn’t punish him.

cristian in a mask

He got ONE and only one free pass, but with a long-winded and boring explanation as to why it is absolutely inappropriate and unacceptable to use that word, under ALL circumstances. We’re not idiots, we know that fear will last only until his teen years absorb his entire being. But for now, no more tutorials unless they are viewed in our presence, which is no easy task for….ME. Those voices in the background explaining every feature of the Minecraft world as they play is right up there with listening to nails dragging along a chalkboard or the constant nag of a drippy faucet.

I know what you’re saying thinking judging; just ban the tutorials. Here’s the thing; as a concept they are quite educational for the game task at hand. They provide ideas to later use themselves. Now, he is most definitely banned from listening to what he calls Hero Brian, which interestingly enough turned out to be a unisex tag team by the names of Pat and Jen of PopularMMO’s. I don’t like to pre-judge based on the words of a rookie potty mouthed 5-year-old. So I put aside some time, took one for the team, strapped on my headphones and hit play on one of their videos. Did I already mention the nails dragging on a chalkboard? For you parents out there, because if you are childless why else would you have seen these, but did you have to sit through and endure Spy Kids 3D or Cat & Dogs: The Revenge of Kitty Galore? I’m sure these are part of some secret approved list to be used for horrifying Ludivico treatment sessions for some of the worst criminals in the world.

thediamondminecart

Moving on, I finally come across one tutorial that is definitely child friendly plus he has this awesome British accent which helps sooth me as a secondary listener. His name is Dan from TheDiamondMineCart. Score! As for Hero Brian, this name will forever be imbedded in to the core of my memory as the person, thing, character that helped my 5-year-old F-bomb his innocence to smithereens. Hopefully this will be my last slip up, but I’m not going to place any bets on that. I’m safe with cable restrictions,  but now my two-year old is just starting to talk. Oh F%#*$@¥!.

cristian and preston

— Elke

FunnyBlogFriday Raffle Winner!

Have you ever noticed that the longer you stare at a written word, the more “wrong” it looks? Well, that’s my problem right now with the word “winner”. Trying to celebrate my first ever winner by creating this post, the more I’m plagued by this word. So as to end my misery, here goes my announcement:

And the winner of my Funny Blog Friday raffle is Ben from Ben’s Bitter Blog. Go check out his blog along with all the other amazing bloggers below that participated in this first ever fun event. Thank you Victoria from Angst Anarchy for bringing all us loons together. Thank you to all the readers that made it out alive. And welcome home to all my new followers. We’ve been waiting for you.

Ben,

Hope you enjoy the Jeter jersey. Wear it in good health!!!

– Elke

 

Funny Bloggers involved:

Victoria of Angst Anarchy

Alanna of White Girls Be Like…

Jamie of Fits of Wit

H.E. Ellis of H.E. Ellis 

Jessie of Jessie Reyna

Alice of Alice at Wonderland

Ben of Ben’s Bitter Blog

Jenn of Properly Ridiculous

Lisa of Buddhaful Britt

JC of JCS Bloggery

Sarah of No Cry Babies

Elke of The Pretty Platform

Jack of The Things I see Up Here

Chicks A & E of Too Funny Chicks

Charly of Crazy Life

Kevin of Trailer Trash Deluxe

Karilin of That Nameless Color

Arthur from Pouring My Art Out

 

Spilling Secrets Over Drinks – A Family Reunion

Happy Friday everyone! I’m part of a Blog Hop today. It’s like bar hopping, only better. So grab a drink and enjoy the first ever Funny Blog Friday #FBF event.  It’s a Blog Hop Party filled with funny posts and giveaway raffles. Drum roll please……today I’m giving away a FREE YOUTH XL (size 18/20) DEREK JETER REPLICA JERSEY to the winner of my contest below.  *** But first (yes, yes, there’s always a catch) please READ on to find out some of my Family’s Dirty Little Secrets now exposed. 

 

You’ll agree that this past weekend was a beautiful one. Perfect weather for anything outdoors. Anything! We were doomed excited to stay inside. Our weekend plans were to revolve around my 84 year old Aunt. She’ll be leaving NY to be with my cousins out in NC. She’s not well, but it’s not as dismal as you think. For my independent and strong willed aunt, “not well” means that she has slowed down a bit and can’t scrub the tub, which technically defines ME now in my 40’s. There’s no way I’m reaching 84. 

We trek from NJ to the dreaded Bronx. We safely squeezed 10 people into her 3rd floor walk up. Amazing, I recollect that as a kid being raised in a one bedroom apartment in the hood section of the Bronx, THIS house was my idea of a mansion. Now? Nope, not so much. You see, this house is more like a wannabe brownstone with each floor portioned out to a tenant, and my Aunt “The Landlord” has the 3rd floor apartment. Folks in the Bronx would love to call this a Condo. Sure, okay, let’s play along. We are all gathered in… “The Condo”.

We feed the four noisy kids and try to keep them secluded in the adjacent living room using television and handheld electronics as their shackles. This works brilliantly except when their darn bottomless pits keep them coming back to the dining room for more rice, beans and pernil. Damn all this interruption. This dining room is where the adults have always reunited to celebrate family time. My Aunt always takes the same seat, closest to the phone as if she’s anticipating a call, never fails. Everyone else has to fight for the remaining three comfortable chairs. The unfortunate others having to pull in the rickety seats from the kitchen.DINING TABLE

As the night progresses, those poor kids are still banned. Occasionally I see one sneaking by to make their way to the bathroom. If they stopped eating they wouldn’t need to visit as often. KIDS

The adults yap and cackle catching up with each other’s lives. We sum up the present to quickly make our way back to the past. Going down memory lane has always been a form of camaraderie for us. This time though, we use this lane to dish out the unknown.

  1. We eat and drink like kings. Well, everyone else drinks while my Aunt bravely admits about how she has never taken a drink in the past 52 years. What?!!! She exclaims this as if it was some sort of badge of honor. We all bark out our sympathies as our curiosity peeked. “How drunk did you get 52 years ago that you had to deny yourself for a lifetime?” we tease. “Really, we need to know”. She shrugs this off. We know she heard the question. After poking and prodding for an answer, we have to respectfully let her slide. But soon we’ll have to come up with our theories, because… 52 years? 
  1. One cousin declares that he JUST found out he was conceived out of wedlock. I mean, he’s now in his 50’s. He’s stunned to know that his parents never married. “Um, I knew that already” I mention with somewhat disappointment since I thought he was going to dish out something pretty juicy. This was juicy…for HIM. He was now even more shocked by the fact that he was the only one that didn’t know. “How did you not know this?” We all burst out in laughter and turn back to my Aunt to now banter her about her risqué lifestyle. She smiles but refuses to fuel the frenzy. Her lips are sealed. We’re going to have to slip something into her coffee. “One drink? Please? We’re here to protect you.” She doesn’t budge.
  1. The attention now takes a sharp turn from his moment of illumination to mine as he makes a mention of my father. “Well, he’s not really my father”, I confess. He’s shocked. “Wait, what do you mean he’s not your father?” Another person chimes in “Hold on to your seat for this one”. I take him through all the details about the fact that the person on my birth certificate was not my father, but actually the man my mother unconditionally loved. When he had left for an extended period of time due to ‘The Law’, well, she became involved with someone else. A friend. A friend with benefits. (Get your mind out of the gutter. The benefits were that he was an honest hard working business owner that offered her the world, a house and a chance to leave “the hood”. Shame on you!) Unfortunately, when the non law abiding love of her life showed up she welcomed him back with a clean slate. Damn it! Coincidentally she’s pregnant. Hmm, what a conundrum. (fine, the friend came with those benefits too). Of course her heart convinces her that this baby (that’s me) belongs to the love of her life. Long story short, I’m born, he gives me his name, he disappears again, forever (until I turn 30 but that’s another story), and I grow up in a single parent home….still, in the hood. But his abandonment never hardened her heart, nor did she ever stop loving him. (I feel a Nicholas Sparks movie coming on). All my life I heard amazing stories about how great this “deserter” was. I wasn’t convinced. Nor did I ever feel compelled to search him out, almost as if my intuitive self knew. (My audience is now salivating). Before my mother passed away, the truth surfaced. I confronted her with a hopeful heart. She confessed. I did a happy dance. Finally, what I had hoped for. You see….I remember that friend. As a kid he’d visit, spend time with me, taught me Polka music, and brought me bags of M&M’s. This friend passed away when I was still a kid. But finally I knew that I was part Polish and I’m darn proud of it. Everyone at the table now starts to make sense of how different I’ve always been. That’s because my dad was a man named Charlie and NOT some loser called Ramon.

My Aunt is squirming in her seat, not pleased about these conversations. I tell her that her problem is that she won’t have a drink. If she did, she’d see how entertaining all this really is. I get “The Look”.

  1. Another cousin dishes out how her grandfather wasn’t much of a catch either. “Polito had dealings with the Spanish Mafia when he was younger. He had a very successful bookie business and refused to keep to his own territory”. My Aunt interrupts to add her details to this story. (Oh, so now she has something to say when it’s not about herself). She corrects it by stating that he had a successful “floral business” and refused to sell it to them. Sure, okay. Cousin respectfully continues the story about how he got kidnapped for a week and was later found dead with 2 bullets to the back of the head. Surely he wasn’t killed because they were threatened over the growing success of his “flowers”. Silence due to all the dropped jaws at the table. “Pass the Jack please”. He was mourned by practically every woman in the Barrio. That probably explains the 26 kids. Well, at least the ones they know of. 
  1. Same cousin continues with another tidbit that although her parents have been divorced for over 20 years, her father is still in love with her mother. “Didn’t he remarry?” one cousin asked. “Yes, but he’ll quickly leave his wife if my mother would have him back”. The pandemonium of laughter at the table. Here’s the thing… her mom lives in a nursing home, and well, her dad is reducing away under the evil powers of her step mother. Comments start to fly across and around the table. Her parents were doomed to be apart, but made to be together. “Can you imagine rekindled love in a few years once they hit their 70’s?” More laughter. Maybe it’s the alcohol. “And have you SEEN his wife? I’d go back to my Ex too”. 
  1. We all laugh about these dysfunctional cohort decisions of mafioso’s, drug dealers and cheating communists of our senior generation. That’s right, I said it, cheating communists! 

It was after a mention of the latter that the old lady had enough! She slowly stands up, next to her walker, assertively leans over her side of the table and scolds us for dishing out family secrets. She’s raining on our parade. After her emotional rant, I explain, with a chuckle that “hey, it’s all still in the family. No harm, no foul”. That definitely didn’t make it better. So I quickly compensate with the fact that we honor those no longer with us even through their mistakes. That was a part of who they were and we loved every part of them. We all come together to celebrate the craziness of this family. All of these off-the-wall, hard to believe, would make for a great best seller mistakes remind each of us here that we’re not all that bad, mistakes and all. Honestly, our kids in the next room will have absolutely NOTHING juicy to talk about. And for that, we all have another glass of wine (or Jack & coke).

Well, all except for my Aunt. Honestly, we should have slipped her something, anything.

— Elke

TITI

Now that you’re almost like family, click on the link below to enter my contest. I’ll contact you as well as post who the winner is by Sunday!  Thanks for stopping by! (I apologize if this giveaway takes you off my site. But please still enter! The Jeter jersey is worth it)

A Rafflecopter Giveaway – Enter Contest Here

Here are the other amazing blogs participating in the party…it’ll be worth your time to check them out! Don’t forget to take another swig of your drink.

Funny Bloggers involved:

Victoria of Angst Anarchy

Alanna of White Girls Be Like…

Jamie of Fits of Wit

H.E. Ellis of H.E. Ellis 

Jessie of Jessie Reyna

Alice of Alice at Wonderland

Ben of Ben’s Bitter Blog

Jenn of Properly Ridiculous

Lisa of Buddhaful Britt

JC of JCS Bloggery

Sarah of No Cry Babies

Elke of The Pretty Platform

Jack of The Things I see Up Here

Chicks A & E of Too Funny Chicks

Charly of Crazy Life

Kevin of Trailer Trash Deluxe

Karilin of That Nameless Color

Arthur from Pouring My Art Out