New Year? New Idiots... and NEW DEAR APRON!

Hi. Welcome to Dear Apron. It's kind of an advice column, but it's more my way of taking out my aggressions against the world out on the morons who write to Dear Abby.

It's a good thing I didn't make a resolution to be a nice boy this year, because 2010 would be distinctly lacking in some ass-smacking Dear Apron jollity.

Ready, kids? Here we go.

DEAR APRON:

My husband, "Dave," likes to tickle our two boys, ages 7 and 8. He goes too far sometimes and they beg him to stop, but he won't. I have talked about it with my sons and even came up with a phrase -- "No more!" -- when they want him to quit. I have also tried to make it clear to Dave that he needs to stop when they say it. The problem is, he continues even after they say it.

When I try to stop him, he says he's just "playing with my boys" and that I'm interfering. Or, if they say stop, he gets irritated and calls them "sissies."

I know his tickling is hurtful because he has done it to me and left bruises. What can I do to make him stop this behavior? -- NOT TICKLED, NOBLESVILLE, IND.

DEAR NOT TICKLED:

Hm. What to do? This is a real puzzler.

Does Dave exhibit this excessive and unstoppable behavior during activities other than tickling? Say, during sex? Do the words "STOP!" and "NO MORE!" as the tears stream down your face and your vagina burns like the white-hot eye of Phoebus have no effect on him whatsoever?

Did it ever occur to you that Dave may suffer from sensorineural hearing loss? It's a relatively common problem, especially these days amongst the iPod crowsd. Maybe Dave just can't hear your incessant whining and your children's unending prattling and constant protestations as he engages in the totally normal and fatherly act of obsessive tickling.

Have you tried speaking in a lower register? People with sensorineural hearing loss sometimes have difficulty hearing higher tones, like your boys' shrill, pre-pubescent girly-cries, or your shrewish, Sybil Fawlty-like yammerings. Also, the next time you want Dave to stop his tickling, try to turn down any radios and shut windows, as background noise may interfere with the auditory perception of individuals with sensorineural hearing loss.

You know, hearing loss is a disability, and the insensitivity that you are showing to Dave is shameful, and probably grounds for divorce. You may very well be "Not Tickled in Noblesville" but you're a cold, cruel bitch where I come from.

Oh, and, if you're really looking for a way to get Dave to stop tickling the boys, just tell them that, when they've had enough, they should shit themselves.

He'll stop.

DEAR APRON:

I am in a touchy situation. I am recently divorced and my 7-year-old daughter idolizes and deeply misses her father. My ex is in prison serving time for molesting my older daughter, who was his stepchild.

Obviously, my younger girl, "Karen," has no clue why her father is in prison. She still thinks that when he gets out, he'll be part of her life. She's too young to hear the truth, but how else can I explain why Daddy will never be part of her life again? I don't want her to resent me for keeping her from her father, but I'm afraid that's exactly what will happen.

Apron, please help me. I'm torn about keeping Karen happy, but also keeping her safe. -- TORN IN TEXAS

DEAR TORN:

Your ex-husband's name wouldn't happen to be "Dave," would it? Also known to the boys in prison as "Tickle Me Dave?"

Look-- there's a very easy way out of this dilemma for you. It's a video produced by Dear Apron Videography Enterprises, Ltd. and it's called "My Step-Daddy is a Child Molester." For $19.95 plus $6.95 shipping & handling, you can order this video, sit Karen in front of it with a bowl of Cheetos and a cranberry spritzer or what have you and you can go in the basement to do the laundry for 43 minutes. By the time you're on the dryer cycle, Karen will totally know what's up with Cletus or whatever his name is, and you won't have any uncomfortable explaining to do.

For some of those other hot-under-the-collar moments that life may bring to you and Karen, please note that the Dear Apron Videography Enterprises Library also contains such helpful coming-of-age titles as:

"Why Is That Balding, Grinning Man Undulating Against the Telephone Pole?"

"My Pee Looks Like Remoulade"

"Why am I Suddenly Attracted to Donkeys?"

"Is Montana Real?"

"Six Facts About My Study-Hall Teacher's Nipple-Fat"

and, our most popular video,

"Can The Jew's Horns Hurt Me at Night?"

Please, no personal checks. I've been burned by you illiterate deadbeats before.

DEAR APRON: When I see someone with a label sticking out of his or her shirt, blouse or whatever, is it proper to just walk up and stick the label back inside the person's clothing? Should I just tell the person that the label is showing? Or should I ignore it?

I have always appreciated knowing when this has happened to me. What's the correct way of handling this? -- OBSERVANT IN LAS CRUCES, N.M.

DEAR OBSERVANT:

Thank God! Finally, someone with an actual legitimate question!

Observant, there is no greater faux pas in the world than to carelessly walk about the streets of Las Cruces, or indeed almost any other place, with one's shirt tag sticking up.

Obviously, I don't need to tell YOU this, just the rest of the world.

The shirt or blouse tag calls out like a banner. It says, "Look at me, world! I just don't care."

Well, fortunately, there are people out there like Observant in Las Cruces who do care, by golly. Not only does Observant care, s/he is not content to sit idly by and grumble at the b'tagged population of the world-- by gum, s/he is going to do something about it.

And do something s/he should.

Here's what you do:

Walking up to someone to report that their tag is showing can by an awkward predicament, I acknowledge that. Also, trying to surreptitiously put the tag down will not achieve the desired results. First of all, you will most likely get caught with your fingers on the back of the offender's neck-- and, face it, that's awkward, too. Plus, in this age of Swine Flu, Tiger Woods Syndrome-B, and Neck Aids, you cannot risk coming into contact with the skin cells of some random scumbag in the Las Cruces area.

SO

Always, ALWAYS, travel with scissors. This way, when you spot a tag offender, you will be ready. Follow the careless sonofabitch for a good distance until you're reasonably sure you can make your move. Then, when the moment's right, leap out of the bushes or from behind the telephone pole you've just been undulating against and snip that motherfucking tag right off in one fell swoop! Scream while doing it if it makes you feel better. When the successfully de-tagged individual turns around and stares at you with the traditional mixture of fear and disgust, just smile and say, "Tag. No charge." And wink coyly or something as you walk away, jiggling that cute little but of yours.

Please note-- this will take practice, and there will be bloodshed, arrests, and lawsuits the first couple dozen times, I guarantee you that-- but-- to rid the world of its tag-displaying populous, it's goddamn worth it.