Hey, the man has some experience. Here, he shows newbies Pete Wentz and Ashlee Simpson how to prepare for the arrival of their new baby.

Let’s list those tips, for those who can’t play the YouTube (and without access to YouTube, how do you expect to raise a happy child? Eh? Honestly!).

1. Put the crib in the garage if you want a sex life.
2. Don’t sweat the carbon monoxide; it’s healthy!
3. Kids love videos, but forget that Baby Einstein crap. It’s all about the rap videos.
4. A baby bottle’s nipple fits right over the end of the malt liquor bottle and guarantees a restful night’s sleep.
5. Snoop is standing by to help with that breast-feeding thing.
6. Oh, I won’t give away the punchline. But it’s damn good advice.

Anyone that knows me knows that Glinda does not do camping. Not that I have anything against people that do. I am sure there are some very enjoyable things about it. I just never really intend to find out.

Of course, as luck would have it, I had a son. A son, it turns out, who thinks camping is the Best. Thing. Ever. Granted he’s only done it once so far, but he is simply enamored of the entire concept. From sleeping in a tent, to the campfire, to peeing on a tree, he’s all over it.

The idea of camping just makes me shudder. The bugs! The lack of showering facilities! The non-bed aspect! I just can’t wrap my mind around why someone would want to actually do that and yet call it a vacation.

Luckily for the Munchkin, his father has camped many times (before we started dating, anyway) and thinks it is a nice family bonding time. Unfortunately, he thinks that family bonding time should include me as well. Not a month goes by that he tries to guilt trip me into going with them, labeling me a bad mommy who won’t share in her son’s interests.

Listen, Glinda likes nature. She has absolutely nothing against nature at all. She just prefers to experience it from a balcony while sipping her tea, wrapped up in a comfy robe.

Is that so wrong?