Guest Post from Adam: My Love Letter

Adam Avitable is best-known for being an asshole in public and a humanitarian in private. He has friends in spite of himself. We get along well. I apologize in advance for what’s about to happen.

Hey there, Backpacking Dad fans. I’m Avitable, aka the guy who shows his nuts on the Internet. I’m recently divorced and dating, and while I’ve found lots of beautiful, lovely women who can’t get enough of a funny, hairy fat guy like myself, there’s really only one person for me. And when he asked me personally to write a guest post (do not DARE suggest that he asked the entire Internet by posting it on Twitter like the sad, pathetic, desperate loser that he is, because I will cut a bitch), how could I say no to those beautiful blue eyes? This was my chance to finally declare my love.

The top ten reasons that I want to fuck Backpacking Dad are as follows:

10. He is a philosophy geek, so you totally know he’ll just want to lay around and ruminate on life’s mysteries surrounding post-orgasmic bliss.

9. He’s just so fucking pretty!

8. Since he’s Canadian, I know he’ll be polite and ask permission before making a mess on my back.

7. San Francisco is his home now, so he’s probably gay and just won’t admit it.

6. The man can fill out a pair of jeans.

5. He loves Buffy and Joss Whedon as much as I do. How can I let a lack of vagina get in the way of true geek love?

4. I’m a sucker for huge foreheads.

3. When I write “Mrs. Adam Burns” in cursive on my notebook, it looks really great.

2. He’s married to a lawyer, so he’s used to swallowing a load.

1. I already know that he likes things going into his “backpack”.

Thanks for letting me guest post, lover.

Guest Post from Meghann: The One Where I Had a Clump of Grass in My Nose

Meghann is a Twitter friend who writes a blog called Midget Invasion. She thinks it’s funny that she didn’t get the midgetinvasion.blogspot address. She also thought I would never post this, but even a post about nose-grass is better than 95% of the content on here, so she’s classing up the joint.

In high school, I was the girl that got her finger stuck in the bunsen burner hole in the lab table.  In college, I almost fell off the Cliffs of Moher.  In adulthood, I own a cat who is allergic to its own teeth, and in parenthood, I had a kid electrocuted in Walmart once.  So really, NOTHING surprises me any more.  When something new and baffling happens, all I can think is "Ah yes, so this is the insanity for this week."

A few weeks ago, I decided to mow our lawn.  Most of you out there are thinking that is no big deal.  Most of you out there are wrong.  Our yard is frickin’ huge, and we have a dinky little push mower that the self propel thingie on broke, and I’m a giiiiirrrrrrl.  I mowed that yard though.  I mowed the crap out of it.  (Literally.  We have a dog.) It’s been really dry here, so a ton of dust and grass and junk was flying around through the air but I didn’t think much of it.  I figured I’d just be sure to shower and it would be all good. 

Later that night, my nose started to run, which sucks.  I figured it was just from the pollen in the air from mowing, and I hoped I’d feel better in the morning.  Well, the morning came and I actually felt worse.  I had started sneezing like I haven’t sneezed since I was a kid growing up in Houston.  (a.k.a. Pollen Capital of the World)  I put my big girl panties on and just dealt with it, because I was flying out of town that day to visit friends.  I acted as healthy as I could at the airport, ignoring the posters about not flying if you are sick.  Nobody was the wiser, and I got to my destination, where I proceeded to spend the entire weekend completely miserable.  The sneezing kept up, my eyes started watering randomly throughout the day, and I had to sleep with a wad of kleenex shoved under my nose so I wouldn’t get the pillow all gross.

It was a fun weekend, let me tell you.  I once again ninja’ed my way onto the plane to go home without anyone realizing that I was less than healthy.  We land, and I get in my car for the drive home, feeling even worse as the sinus pressure is starting to get to me as well.  I’m driving down the interstate, sneezing, eyes watering, and randomly blowing my nose, trying not to crash the car.  During a really straight stretch of the road, I decide to get as much crap out of my nose as I could.  I blew and blew and blew, and then. . .I felt some sort of pop.  Something had dislodged and I felt a chunk of something come flying out of my nose.

I looked down into the tissue.  (Oh hush, you would have too, and you know it.)  At first I freaked out, because it looked like a bug.  Upon further inspection, I discovered it was actually a clump of dirt and dried grass.  That apparently had been in my nose for three days.  Yeah.  Ew.

I kid you not, after it was out, my eyes didn’t water once, and by the time I got home, I was already feeling better.  The next day, I was almost back to 100%.  Apparently my misery the entire weekend was from that little clump hanging out in my nose.

Moral of the story? I dunno.  Blow your nose after you mow the lawn I guess.

p.s.-picture of clump available upon request.

Meghann

Guest Post from Peter: What’s It Going to Take?

Peter writes The Carey Adventures and takes amazing photographs. This is him being a dad blogger.

She is on the back step of the catamaran, snorkel in her mouth, dive mask on and life vest firmly strapped to her chest. But my eight year old daughter wouldn’t budge. This is one of the reasons we came to Mexico and she loves water as much as I do, regularly complaining when she has to get out of the tub, the pool or even a puddle. So why wouldn’t she just jump in?

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“Come on, Honey, I know you can do it. I even left the camera on the boat so I could be right here with you.” I was sure this line would work. After all, she knew how much I loved photography and always had a camera in my hands. And here I was giving up that which I held so dear JUST FOR HER! I’m sure it had to have some impact on her confidence and my devotion to her. “My Dad loves me more than his camera!” I know, it is screwed up, but I hoped that would be resonating in her head. No budge. An even some tears starting.

Louis, our guide, floats over and hands her a crystal clear shell. Her eyes widen a bit and her attention is diverted for a second (no, I didn’t push her in at this point if that’s what you are thinking). He’s really trying hard to help her like this slice of the Caribbean. Not too pushy. Slowly she slides into the water with a death-grip on the swim step. Louis brings over a float ring for her to hold onto when she’s away from the boat.

I ask, in the patient voice I’ve learned to cultivate, “Honey, you want to go see the reef, right?” A slow nod with fingers turning white from the grip. “Is something scaring you?” Another nod and she spits out her snorkel, “I’m afraid of sharks.” This, I did not know. Upon returning home I found out she had watched one of the Planet Earth episodes before she left. The one with great whites in it. Breathe, Peter, breathe.

Louis assures her there are no sharks in this area. And now the Dad conundrum. Do I agree with his lie (there are sharks in the general area, but likely not right where we are right now) or….. Of course I go with the lie. You would too. You have too. Do you know how hard it is to flip a coin in the water and figure something out like that in a millisecond? Defer to the expert, even if you think he might have spent too much time in the sun most of his life.

We hang out for another ten minutes, both of us in the water and one of us refusing to let go of the swim step. I try all I have left; patience. After all, I’m in the warm Caribbean waters, life’s really not bad. Five more minutes and a hand tentatively reaches out for the life-ring and then grabs for boat again. I spend the time looking for anything on the sea floor ten feet below us. Not much happening as this is the anchoring zone, not the real reef. Another hand and then…

The group returns. And I think some tears do too. “I want to see the reef”. My heart breaks a little. There was a day many years ago I would have leveled a, “Well it’s too damn late”, but not today. I know something is holding her back and she doesn’t like it. I didn’t figure I was heading to Mexico to help her work on fears and gain self-confidence, but it turns out that’s the lesson for the day. “I know, Honey,” is what I respond. We climb back into the boat to head for the second snorkel spot. She sits close to me on deck, not saying much.

I breathe in more patience as we head into the water for the second swim, much closer to the reef. This time everyone bolts away from the boat fairly quickly as Sabrina is grabbing the life-ring with confidence this time. I’m wondering if we’ll be left tagged to the boat for this swim too. “Look! There are fish right over here!” our guide yells. Big eyes and a push off of the boat. “DADA! Look!!” Fish are swarming around us as we head out and around the boat for open waters. And she doesn’t care because, you know, THERE ARE FISHYS!! “I touched one!! Dada, I pet one!!” The life-ring is left behind as both hands are busy in the water.

And the reward for my patience?

Hearing my now confident daughter giggle through a snorkel.