No. 1 – The Dire Effects of my Wife’s Digression into the Crunchy Lifestyle

When we first got married we used to eat this frozen fried chicken product, Banquet Chicken:

The mysterious oils that pooled in the bottom of the pan as we baked the definitely-caged meat to life were impressive. So were the feelings of it entering my mouth, sitting in my stomach, and (very shortly after) leaving my body. The entire process engendered a love / hate relationship with my digestive tract.

Yet we were so carefree.

Young married life transitioned into being young parents, as it is prone to do, and suddenly there was this new prerogative to reconsider our partially-hydrogenated lifestyle. Fresh, unaltered DNA was looking to us for protection. Where to start?

Well in hindsight it seems that most young mothers work their way from the ends-in: Breast milk in one end, and a chemical free cloth diaper to catch it coming out the other. That’s how it starts anyway. From there it’s all up for grabs, including, inexplicably, the diet of the father of said child.

Of course various reasons are expounded: The paternal influence at the dinner table, simplification of meal planning, life-extension of the primary bread-earner, etc. All reasonable on the surface, all justifiable.

BUT HEED WELL HUSBANDS! Cloth diapers are just the opening salvo, by the time you realize that your lifestyle is under attack, it will be too late. One day you’ll look up from reading a magazine about cars that actually use gas to find that you’ve been death-marched into a concentration camp of crunchiness. The only rations are either raw, juiced, or ‘healthy animal fats’ (READ: Brains, Livers, Hearts). Your bedding will be devoid of flame retardant, foam, or anything from the modern world of science. And your evenings in front of the TV will be docu-heavy with exposés on the evils of 99% of everything.

Oh and eventually everything will be made of cloth, not just your diapers, everything, even your toilet paper:


WIFE: “I was flipping our natural latex mattress today with the help of our 4th and 7th children and do you know what I found?”

YOU: “It’s not what you think, those aren’t mine!”

WIFE: “We talked about this, Kirkland Signature isn’t something we use in this house.”

YOU: (head down in shame) “Just don’t tell anyone about this OK?  I have a problem…”

WIFE: “Well I already posted a photo on Facebook but they let you take those down.”

YOU: (mumbled) “no they don’t…”

WIFE: “What?”

YOU: “terms of service agreement…”

WIFE: “What?”

YOU: “I love you.”

OK you get the point. Things start out simple, and then one day you wake up and find yourself in a Crunchy Dungeon. Hence the name of this work.

Looking for solace, I did some searching and found two other ‘crunchy dads’ out there who have attempted the same thing, blogs about the male side of the crunchy equation, but they only each posted once, years ago. Fail.

*To be fair, maybe their wives got rid of their computers as not being healthy enough (My wife says scary, scary things about our electronics…scary as in she might throw them all away when I’m not home…).

Couple of things to note before reading further:

1. This is a work of satire, I actually embrace much of what my wife has introduced into our home. I love her a lot and appreciate deeply her journey into all this crunchiness.

2. All this stuff really happened. I tend to exaggerate sometimes, but all of these stories (to follow) are totally true.  Conversations between my wife and I are usually construed a bit to emphasize my suffering, but many of them really occurred (the toilet paper one above did not, we have not, by agreement, made the move to family cloth, and we don’t have 7 kids, that was a hypothetical crunchy family situation for illustrative purposes only).

3. Posts are not necessarily in any chronological order. Some may run together in a series around a specific topic but they aren’t representative of our family life for that actual week. Most our culled from the last few years, some being as recent as late 2013.

4. Some posts may make my wife sound crazy. She is OK with this, and finds these stories hilarious. Not in a maniacal laughter way, just normal funny.

Seriously, she’s not crazy.

5. I will not fail to continue this project for at least one year. I hate finding an awesome blog where they write this first post and promise all this stuff, and then there’s no more posts and for a moment you figure that they just started it and that the 2nd post is due any day now…and then you look at the date of the first post, etc.


Because I’ve already written them all. 🙂

Yep, 52 posts already in the bag. And I will slowly release them from said bag every Thursday of the year 2014. Perhaps it will continue past that, we shall see. It all depends, I suppose, on if computers and/or electricity will be allowed in our home for very much longer…


No. 2 – Where it all Begins: Cloth Diapers