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I'm a 33-year-old father and husband born and bred in Massachusetts. I have a beautiful son named Will, a gorgeous wife named MJ who is far too hot to have married me, a dog I love and two cats I put up with. I'm a smart-ass former newspaper reporter with a penchant for turning a phrase, who decided to go corporate and is now enjoying life as a content manager for a website.

This blog is not just another "daddy blog." Sure I write about my son, but these pages are a record of my life. I don't just highlight the fun milestones like first steps, I also chronicle the "other stuff." The fights, the torment and the doubt that inevitably come with being a husband and father. It's not always puppy dogs and rainbows, but it is very real. And often there is beauty in the sadness, redemption in the struggle.

Thank you for checking me out, giving me a try and sticking around for the journey. If you'd like to contact me you can email aaron_gouveia (at) yahoo (dot) com.

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Stuck Like Glue, Smell Like Piss

Will’s favorite new song is Stuck Like Glue by Sugarland.

Granted it’s a catchy tune. It’s one of those songs that gets in your head and nests there. Buries itself in the confines of your grey matter and has you singing and humming it to yourself 5,000 times a day. And that number increases exponentially if you have a toddler who is compelled to listen to it over and over and over again.

I love turning on the music and dancing with Will. There’s something so liberating about watching a little kid cut loose without an ounce of shame or timidity. And when he does it, I follow suit. Enjoy the video, paying special attention to the end where he gets tangled up in the curtains.

But the cuteness-packed video only tells half the story.

After my cell phone camera stopped rolling we continued to dance. And dance hard. I picked him up and put him on my shoulders. I held his hand and swung him around the room. We chased each other and ran like crazy people. We giggled and cavorted and laughed hysterically.

Until I slipped and fell.

It was when I stepped on the tile by the front door. And my foot slipped. Because I stepped in something. Something wet. Then I fell down. And what I landed in was also wet. And smelly.

I think you all know where this is going…

Will is mostly potty-trained. He’ll pee in the toilet approximately 93% of the time. The remaining 7% takes place when he has to poop. No matter what we do he will not stop crapping in his underwear. And when he goes #2, he also lets #1 leak out. Such was the case before our little dance party, only I didn’t realize his fire house had inadvertently poked out the side of his underwear and let loose a stream of piss that I failed to notice.

But I noticed it plenty while I was sitting in it.

Oh well, the dancing was worth it. Plus it’s all fun and games until someone falls in a puddle of their kid’s urine. Right?

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