Alien Reality TV Show

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone! Before you're abducted, be sure to head on over to visit the great bloggers over at dad-blogs.com .

So my regular readers will now that Mom-E had surgery last week.

And that things have been a little "interesting" at our house.

I think I've figured out what's going on, and I promise that I don't have an emerging psychosis:

We're stars on a reality tv shown for aliens, kind of like The Truman Show.

I mean, you can't write a script for this kind of stuff.

Take the last episode Sunday night for example.

Mom-E is 3 days out from her surgery, and after the cabin fever reaches its peak, we're finally able to get out of the house (it took 3 days to get everyone showered and ready).

Mind you, although she'd like to, Mom-E is physically unable at this point to pick-up and carry even Bab-E Brother.

We go out for a bite to eat.

Little Brother and Bab-E Brother both fall asleep in the van on the way to the restaurant.

On the way home, we decide to go for a little drive, seeing as we've been at home for over 48 consecutive hours without going anywhere.

We decide to cruise through a really fancy neighborhood, where even a shack costs about $500,000.

As we're passing through, suddenly Bab-E Brother starts to scream. We assume he's hungry since he slept through dinner.

We pull into a cul-de-sac that's still undeveloped.

I get him and bring him to Mom-E, who's riding shotgun.

He continues to scream, appearing to have no interest in eating.

3 seconds later, Big Brother blurts out, "I've got to go pott-e!" (Even though he went potty twice at dinner, the last time being 5 minutes ago)

All the while, Little Brother is still passed out in his carseat. (It was his only defense.)

So we now have a little pickle.

Bab-E Brother is content standing on my lap and pretending to drive the minivan.

Mom-E, 3 days after surgery and still tired and uncomfortable, is hobbling along, clutching her abdomen in pain attempting to escort Big Brother to a part of the cul-de-sac where he can drop his drawers and pee in the bushes.

I said it before is my very first post ever, but I was just waiting for the cop car to come rolling by.

What a great scene: the baby is driving the minivan, the mommy (who looks like she just got kicked in the abdomen by an abusive husband) is helping the oldest child commit public urination--in a fancy residential neighborhood nonetheless--while the middle child is passed out in the backseat.

At that point, you know they're going to search for drugs in the minivan.

Like I said, there's only one possible explanation:
We're the most popular family reality tv show on some alien planet in the Andromeda galaxy.

Can you beam us our royalty checks? I think we're missing a few.

Have a good weekend,
Busy-Dad-E