My Kids by Denis Leary
My Kids lyrics
Yeah, my kids...my kids are into Hanson now. Oh...you
have no idea! You know, kids like to play the same song
over and over again...MmmmBop, MmmmBop, MmmmBop. And
the funny thing is, I've actually come to love Hanson,
because...and I'll tell you why, you know why? Because
these kids are a giant rehab festival just waiting to
happen. Oh yeah! They are going to crash and burn so
quickly it's gonna be fuckin' great. Their parents
might as well call Liz and Gary Coleman right now and
have a meeting. I can't wait. Especially the drummer,
what's he? Six? Oh yeah...great...oh yeah, oh, he's
going down, mark my words, oh yeah. They're gonna find
him in a hotel room with a hooker and an eight-ball,
mark my words! Mark my words. Yeah. He's gonna actually
be all the way up inside the hooker's vagina, y'know
what I mean? They're gonna have to pull him
out..."C'mon out of there! What are you doing?" "I
don't know! I'm six and I have credit cards . what the
fuck?" Mmm-bop-eee-ooom-bop-eee-ooom-bop-eee-oom-bop...
[Kids] Boom shaka laka laka...Boom shaka laka
laka...Caw! Caw! Caw! Caw! Cock-a-doodle-doo!! Boom
shaka laka laka...
I got good kids. Love my kids. Been trying to bring 'em
up the right way, not spanking 'em. Find that I don't
have to spank 'em. I find that waving the gun around
pretty much gets the same job done. Because they're
trying to kill me, they are! Y'know, I try to explain
the rules to them, you know what I mean? But the rules
go in one ear and out the other! Close the door! How
hard can that be to remember? Close the door? You just
opened it, close it behind you. I have a dog, I've seen
him close the door with his nose, and he's a DOG!
Apparently a kid's dream house is just a house with no
doors. The leaves blow in, there's bats flying around
there, they don't care.
Start out with two kids, now we think there's twelve.
Starting to think that other parents are dropping their
kids off at my house, so they can puke, shit their
pants, break stuff, and then leave. That's what the dog
told me. They are unbelie...y'know, if you don't have
kids, I don't know how to describe it to you, I really
don't. I don't know how to describe it to you. Y'know,
it's like...uh...I don't know what it's like. It's
like...it's like having drunken midgets around the
house, that's what it's like, folks. That's what it's
like. It's like a rodeo clown car pulled up, and
fifteen rodeo clowns got out, and they're running
around, and you can't catch 'em. It's like there's
monkeys on acid hanging off the lights, "Come down!"
and you can't reach 'em, "Come down!"
You keep thinking that they're going to wake up one day
and they'll go, "Oh, now I know the rules." But they
don't. Just like listening to MmmmBop over and over
again, every day is the same thing. It always starts
the same exact way. "Close the door...give me that bag
of Oreos, you're not having Oreos for breakfast...no TV
right now...close the door...no, leave the dog
alone...will you please find your shoes...give me that
bag of Oreos...find your shoes...you put your shoes
on...I don't know where your shoes are...I didn't have
your shoes on...close the door...put that...no, don't
cut the dog's hair right now...c'mon...those are HIS
shoes...go tell him you have his shoes and then find
your shoes...close that door...put the phone down, who
are you calling? You're too young to call
anybody...don't feed Oreos to the dog...give me that
bag of Oreos...now, close that
door...uh...yeah...no...no...no...no...those ARE your
shoes...they have to be! Who are you? I want ID...let
me see some ID."
And your life immediately, when they hit age 5, becomes
about quiet. You just want peace and quiet. That's all
you want . you want the fighting to stop, can't we all
just get along? You turn into Rodney King, you do! If
you don't have kids, take this note down . don't buy
the toys that make the noise. That's the key thing. If
there's a toy that has a button on it that makes noise,
they're going to press that button like Bart Simpson,
over and over again. For days at a time . WHAAA! WHAAA!
WHAAA! WHAAA! Their friends come over, "Hey, cool!"
WHAAA! WHAAA! WHAAA! WHAAA! Oh my God...so you stop
buying the toys that make the noise, but then you know
what happens? The in-laws buy the toys that make the
noise, they drop them off at your house, and then they
leave! And you're stuck with the toys that make the
noise.
You heard about the Darth Vader bank toy? Oooooooh...
oooooooh, let me tell you about this toy. So, don't buy
this toy. Mark that down, too. The toy is this bank,
it's bigger than the kids, and it's Darth Vader, he's
standing like this [Darth Vader pose]. He's got that
super-duper, Oakland Raiders helmet on, y'know what I
mean? Here's the gig with the toy . the kids put money
in the front of the mask, okay, and here's what happens
immediately after the coin goes in . [Darth Vader
breathing sounds]..."Use the Force, Luke...[Darth Vader
breathing sounds]...for fifteen fuckin' minutes! And
they bring the other kids from the other houses over,
and they put money in. So it goes on for hours! [Darth
Vader breathing sounds]..."Use the Force, Luke...[Darth
Vader breathing sounds]...the third day, the mechanism
breaks. Yes, so now it doesn't need money to go off, it
just goes off randomly in the middle of the night. And
at my house, my kids and my wife, they sleep like wood.
Not me, I'm an insomniac! I find myself, forty years
old, naked, creeping to go to the bathroom in my house
like this...just so I don't have to hear James Earl
Jones' fucking voice. And right at the last step, right
before I go to the bathroom, I hear, "Denis! I'm on
again! Come in here and turn me off!!" I'm giving the
finger to Darth Vader in the middle of the night, it's
not right! Shut up!! And now he's full of money, and we
can't get the money out, and he's still talking to us!
"Haaaa...I have all the money!"
Just want some peace. And quiet. I don't want the
dangerous quiet, you know what that is, right? That's
the one during the day, when the kids are in the house,
you're in the kitchen reading the paper, right? Reading
the paper for about fifteen minutes, and slowly it
dawns on you. Heeeeeey...wait a minute...uh-oh. Go into
the dining room, nobody in there. Go to the living
room, nobody. Go by the bedrooms and the bathrooms, I
hear this little voice inside the bathroom...it's my
daughter. I'm thinking, she doesn't like to baths at
all, nevermind it's three o'clock in the afternoon.
What's she doing? I open the door, you know what she's
doing? Giving the dog a bath, in the toilet! Oh yeah,
she's soaping him up and singing away, la-de-de-de-da-
de-de. And like some weird Vegas magician, I gotta pull
a dog out of a toilet. Like the Great Learatini . "Look
at this! I pulled a dog out of a toilet!" And no
explanation from her, "What was that about? Go to your
room, don't touch Darth Vader please, thank you."
My wife and I bought a home theater system. You don't
have one of these, you should get it. It's
unbelievable. The big, giant widescreen TV, there's
like sixteen speakers, so you get the surround sound.
You got the big woofer on the ground, so it makes the
floor shake when you listen to Jurassic Park, right.
It's got the big rack of stuff, the VCR and the DVD and
the Laserdisc player, and a bunch of other stuff, you
don't know what it is, but it looks fuckin' great! It's
really shiny. Had it for eight hours, okay? Eight .
count 'em. Actually, it was only four hours, 'cause the
guy was installing it for four hours. So I had it for
four hours, officially. Put the kids to bed, get a copy
of Apocalypse Now. Yeah...yeah...Dennis Hopper hopped
up on coke in sixteen speaker surround, that's great. I
go to put the tap in...CLING CLING CLING CLANG...won't
go in...CLING CLING CLING...won't go in. Reach inside
the VCR, you know what's inside the VCR? Peanut butter
and jelly sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly SANDWICH.
Smucker's strawberry . I tasted it! Now, I would like
to believe I don't have retards in my family bloodline.
I'm hoping it wasn't as stupid as "NOM NOM NOM, I'm
finished with this, it goes in HERE!" I'm hoping it was
more thoughtful . "Maybe if I put this in here, I can
watch the peanut butter and jelly movie! You can really
hear the crunchy parts!!"
So, I wake 'em all up and I have a little People's
Court session down in my TV room at two o'clock in the
morning. I'm your host, Ed Koch...exhibit A, the
sandwich...exhibit B, the VCR. Does anyone have an
explanation as to how this could've happened? You know
what I get? I get a sea full of dumbfounded faces.
[Blank stare] My oldest one, my son Jack, steps
forward, "Dad...um...maybe...the sandwich was flying
around the house...it was flying around the house, and
central headquarters called them and told them to dock
here in the VCR. They docked." "No they didn't! Food
does not dock. Pull up your pants." I look over in the
corner, the dog is eating the peanut butter sandwich,
it's stuck to the roof of his mouth...NOM NOM NOM.
These are the people I live with. It happened.
They wanted a dog. They had...the kids, they had a
union meeting, apparently. They came out of the union
meeting, they picked a spokesman . it was Jack, "We
want a dog!" Great idea, I love dogs. You know what I
pictured . I pictured a big, giant, seven-foot tall,
350-pound Irish wolfhound, huh? Named
Buck..ARRRARRRARRARR. Gotta have three leashes and
people have to hold him down, "No, Buck! Put that
mailman down!" ARRRARRRARRRARRR. Buck, the scourge of
the Upper West Side...ARRARRARRARR. But, of course,
they got the dog while I was away. So we got a little
tiny little black little faggy little half-Pomeranian
half-French Poodle little pound-and-a-half little thing
that's supposed to be a dog. I could throw this dog
sixty yards, I guarantee you. "Run a post pattern, go
out, go go go...BAROOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"
So I go okay, we can keep the dog, you guys like him.
But y'know what? We're going to have a democratic vote
thing on the name. Me and your mom, we're going to stay
out here, we'll come up with some options. You kids, go
in that room, come out in five minutes with some ideas.
Wanna hear their top three ideas, that they came up
with? Pretty hot...number one, Chickenhead, I swear to
God. Chicken. Head. Number two, Pizza. Number three,
Fish. Not Abe Vigoda, Fish. So I go, y'know what? Go
back in the room and come up with some other choices,
okay? When we get a chicken, we can call him
Chickenhead, okay? But we're not calling the dog
Chickenhead. Chickenhead? Chickenhead? Oh, boy. So they
come out, about fifteen minutes later, they really
worked hard. And they had an agreement amongst
themselves. They have one choice, and they want to name
the dog "Pongo", the dog from 101 Dalmations. Pongo. My
wife goes, "That's a great idea!" And I go,
"Whoa...whoa...whoa...hold on a minute with the Pongo!
Hold on! Let's face the facts here: Saturday night at
midnight, in the middle of winter when it's snowing
outside, you guys are all gonna be asleep, and who's
going to be walking Pongo down Broadway? Huh? Me!
Running along Broadway, 'Pongo! C'mere, Pongo!' No,
it's not happening. We're not naming the dog 'Pongo',
out of the question!" Then there was a fifteen minute
cry...so his name is fuckin' Pongo. Of course it is. Me
and Pongo on Broadway on Saturday at midnight, "C'mon
Pongo, shit for daddy, c'mon. Shit for daddy, please?
Oh, that's a big one. Thank you, Pongo. Let me get my
plastic bag out to scoop it up." Fiiiiiiiiiine.
The phone...is something that you cannot explain to
children. I don't know what age it is when they finally
pick it up. Probably when they start dating, maybe
that's when it is. But so far, none of the kids in my
family have figured out the phone. Even the idea, the
theory of the phone. It's always when you're on the
phone that they want to talk to you. And you're
probably talking to some distant cousin in Killarny,
it's probably seventeen million dollars a nanosecond,
that's when they walk up to you when you're on the
phone. "Dad? Dad? Dad? Dad? Dad? Dad? Dad? Dad? Dad?
Dad?" "I'm on the phone!" "Oh, dad? Dad? Dad? Dad? Dad?
Dad?" "WHAAAAT! I'm on the fuckin' phone...I know
fuckin's a bad word, but you're fuckin' making me say
it! How many times do I have to explain this thing to
you? Are you going to be a grown-up, be thirty-five
years old and go to the office, and go 'Boss! Boss!
Boss! BOSS! BOSS!! BOSS!!!' What?" "Can I have a
cookie?" "It's Leary's kid . fire him, I want him
fired. He's the guy who put the sandwich in my VCR last
week, fire him!"
Me and their mom have been together now for fifteen
years. Yeah, yeah, we're all...you can applaud the
pain. It's very difficult, it's hard, let me tell you
the key things you need to know to stay together that
long. Love, honor, respect, and stay the FUCK away from
each other, really. As much as you can. Get separate
bedrooms if you can, that's the way to do it. Just come
out, eat, talk, fuck, go back in the separate rooms.
That's the best system I've come up with so far, folks.
Don't fuckin' bump into each other too much, that's
what I'm saying. Key thing. And for guys, learn this,
even if you're just going to be living with a woman,
you're not even married to her. Give up any thought of
being involved in the interior decoration of the place
you're going to live in, okay? Just give it up! And all
your stuff? Put it in a storage place, someplace you're
not gonna see it, you're gonna visit occasionally. All
your fuckin' sports mirrors and your beer mirrors . put
'em in storage. I've been to Wayne Gretsky's house .
he's got five MVP trophies...you know where they are?
They're in the fuckin' garage! I go into stores with my
wife now...man, forget about it. She'll say, "What do
you think of those chairs?" "I think they suck." "Too
bad, we just bought eight of them, asshole! Let's go!"
"They're not that bad..." I'd like to tell you more
about my wife, but I'm not allowed to. I'm not
alllloooooowwwwwed...It's one of the ruuuuuules.
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