Maddie & her Daddy

The photo seen above was taken last night when I went to dinner with Heather, Maddie, and our pal, Dana. Maddie, because of her well documented health issues, is a tad Garbo-esque, so her making a public appearance is rare. Because of this, the paparazzi (or at least the folks at the restaurant) went plantains over her. (FYI…going plantains is like going bananas but even more so.) We were having a great time as we sat outside the restaurant drinking sangria and chatting even though every five minutes or so our discussion was interrupted by the World Famous Maddie Moo’s fans.

“How old is she?”

“What a beautiful baby!”

“What’s her name!”

Maddie smiled graciously each time, but totally sent me an annoyed glance when no one was looking that said, “Can’t I just have my privacy? I’m a baby like any other!”

Anyhoo…toward the end of the night I caught sight of this old lady in the restaurant who had a full on stalker stare locked on Maddie. I tried to ignore it and went about my dinner.


At one point – for COMEDIC EFFECT – I took a French fry off Heather’s plate and put the tip in Maddie’s mouth and announced, “Look! Maddie likes fries!”

I was joking, and, of course, was not going to let my baby eat the fry….HOWEVER…when I looked through the window at the old lady she was shaking her head and scrunching up her nose as if I had just thrown Maddie into a steaming cauldron and was adding salt to the mix while cackling like a mad man. I looked away, horrified. Heather said, “What’s that face about? Did someone give you a dirty look?” I nodded, and Heather and Dana looked inside where the old lady was now practically holding up a picket sign protesting my parenting skills.

This whole deal upset me more than it should have because of the sangria…I mean…because I pride myself on being a good dad. As time went on, however, I came to understand why she glared at me, and was so glad that she set me straight because she was totally right in judging me and my parenting skills.


With no further adieu!

Here is my official letter of thanks to the old lady!


Dear Busy Body Old Lady:

Thank you so much for ignoring your husband your entire dinner and instead staring at my child with a creepy, blank visage for two hours. This so improved my dining experience! I also want to sincerely thank you for glaring at me as if I was a Klansman at the Democratic National Convention after I put a French fry in my daughter’s mouth. At the time I thought I was making a harmless joke, but now, thanks to you, I realize I was seconds away from grabbing all of the fries off of Heather’s plate and cramming them down my tiny baby’s throat. The more I think about it, if you hadn’t made a show of sending eye daggers my way, I might have snatched the poached salmon off of Heather’s plate as well as the skirt steak sandwich Dana was eating and crammed them down my thirteen pound baby’s throat. You know…because I am stupid…and need creepy old ladies to keep me in place.

I also want to thank you because I know that when you had a baby….way, way back when…you never did anything that could compromise your child’s health even though statistics show that the vast majority of women your age smoked cigarettes with a child in utero and thus caused many birth defects. You also likely drank when your child was cooking, something which once again has been proven by those pesky statistics. What’s that? No one told you back then that it was bad to smoke and drink as a pregnant Mom? Gee. I guess you wish there had been a busy body old bitch judging you at a restaurant back in the day in order to make you realize you were a bad mom.

Anyway, thanks again, mean old lady. You succeeded in making me feel like shit.


A Dad worse than O.J. Simpson


The following photo spread is all for you, you buzzkilling, decrepid, first night out in ages ruining bitch!!!

Mmm....fries...Can't wait to choke!