Why you cryin', bro?

Luke and I once saw this paragon of parenthood in Maine. His 3-year old son was crying uncontrollably, and as he ran his hand through his mullet, he said, "why you cryin', bro?". Luke and I were dumbfounded that someone could be this terrible a parent, and yet, we now use this phrase on a regular basis with Mango. In our defense, we're using it ironically though. And only when she's doing a certain kind of cry that's more of a temper tantrum/I'm tired type of cry, not an I-lost-my-beloved-teddy-bear or my-dog-died type cry, like the one that little boy seemed to be doing.

Anyway, fast forward to Tuesday night, when we had a going away party for my friend Susan. We play a game called Consequences at our work bar, which is basically the dumbest game ever, but we always end up playing it. I've missed a lot of Consequences since I had Mango, since I'm in charge of daycare pick up, so I always play wholeheartedly when I'm back in the game.
I've mentioned it before, but basically, it goes like this:
Susan, if I roll a 3, you have to sing the national anthem at our company outing tomorrow.
Then, I'd roll the die, and if I rolled a 3, Susan would either have to sing the anthem at the company outing or do a shot of something gross to get out of it.

So anyway, we're playing Consequences for a while; Diesel's walking around with his hand in his shirt pocket, Guy's walking around with make up on, and Jim and Lexie are wearing each other's clothes. It's Jim's turn, and he goes, "If I roll a 4, you have to go home and hang out with Mango." Ouchhhhhh. I am now officially a worse parent than the "why you cryin' bro" guy.