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Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready?

Please welcome the one and only Steve Treviño!

Thank you, San Antonio!

The Tobin Center. Thank you.

Thank you. Please sit down. Please, please, please. Thank you.

Those of you that are new to me and don't know what I do,

my show is comedy/cry for help.

I'm a family man. I'm a simple man.

I live my life with my family. They do dumb shit, and I come and report.

That's what I do.

Let's start with my wife, Captain Evil.

Let's start with her.

Because...

Ugh.

She's got a new friend, my wife. Got a new friend.

And it sucks when my wife has a new friend because

if the new friend has a husband, I gotta hang out with that guy.

She puts me on a husband play date like I'm a three-year-old.

And the problem is, if my wife likes her and I don't like him,

we're hanging out.

But if I like him and she doesn't like her,

I'm never seeing that guy again.

That's how that works.

Well, I don't like the new guy. I don't like the new guy.

My wife goes, "You know why you don't like him?"

I said, "Why?" She goes, "'Cause he's a Leo."

"And you're a Capricorn."

"And Leos and Capricorns, they just don't get along."

"That's why you don't like him." I said, "Really?"

"I thought I didn't like him

because he shakes my hand like a little bitch."

He doesn't like sports, and he drinks White Claws.

I thought that's why I didn't like him.

And some of you men are upset because you drink White Claws.

You shouldn't be upset.

You should be ashamed of yourself is what you should be.

And I would like to have a conversation with your father if you have one.

But, yes, I am a family man.

Not a lot of exciting things happen in my life for single people

because they don't know what it's like to be a family man.

I do have exciting weeks. I coach little league.

Yeah, I'm proud to coach little league.

I know there's a lot of people in here that coach little league.

For those of you that don't know this, it is a volunteer position.

I do not get paid to coach little league, nor do I have a coaching degree.

So on behalf of all of us that volunteer our time to coach,

those of you that don't coach,

do us coaches a favor and shut the fuck up, okay?

Because...

...nothing pisses me off more

than the parents that don't come to practice.

They only come to the games,

and now they wanna get involved with what I got going on on the field.

"Uh, Coach, can I talk to you?"

No, motherfucker, you can't.

"Well, I don't understand why my son never gets to play first base."

Well, if you came to practice, you would understand that your son sucks.

We're throwing real baseballs now, and he can't catch for shit.

I'm afraid your son's gonna get hit in the face and die.

But because it is little league and I have to play everybody,

I put your son in right field so he can play with the flowers.

If some of you have kids under the age of eight years old

and they're in right field, take a hint.

That's another reason I get mad, you know?

'Cause I have these kids on our team,

they don't want to play baseball.

Parents, do not put your kid in something they don't want to do, okay?

Every... Yes. Every year I look at my lineup,

I go, "Bryson again? They signed this poor bastard up again?"

I understand finish what you started,

but fuck it, let's torture him another year.

And I don't know what these dads see 'cause I know they don't see what I see.

Every time Bryson goes up to bat, he stands like this.

And his dad's over there, "Come on, Bryson!"

I'm like, "Motherfucker, Bryson ain't coming on."

He's the only kid on the team that irons his uniform and tucks it in.

I asked Bryson if we were getting dirty today and he goes,

"No!"

I don't think Bryson's gonna be a baseball player.

There's gonna be balls in his life, they're just not gonna be baseballs, okay?

And by...

By the way, before you cancel me,

I don't have a problem with Bryson being gay.

This is America. He can be whatever the fuck he wants to be.

Yes. I have...

I have a problem with the dad not seeing what I see.

And I'm a little jealous of Bryson. I am.

He's gonna grow up and have a beautiful life, that Bryson.

I can't imagine how good my life would be with two male incomes.

But I only...

I only tell you that story

to get to the story where my wife gets involved.

Every year's the same.

Every year we do a little something for the boys

at the end of the season, all right?

This year was no different.

I called up my other coach, I said, "Hey, one more practice left."

I said, "Why don't we surprise the boys

with bouncy house and pizza instead of practice?"

He goes, "Great idea, Steve. I'll get the bouncy house,

you get the pizza."

Ladies, we were done planning.

And then here comes... here comes my wife.

She goes, "What are you doing?"

I said, "We're doing bouncy house and pizza on Tuesday."

And then she goes, "I don't have time to throw a party on Tuesday."

I said, "Well, it's not a party, it's a bouncy house and pizza."

She says, "I better let the moms know we're gonna have a party on Tuesday."

I said, "There's no party. It is a bouncy house and pizza!"

But that's my wife. Everything has to turn into a thing.

Everything now has to be a party.

There has to be matching baseball plates and baseball tablecloths,

and a baseball balloon arch.

And I'm... I'm sorry, ladies, but these are little boys.

They don't give a fuck.

Maybe Bryson does, but the rest...

...don't give a fuck.

And I... And I try.

I try to tell my wife that everything she does,

she does it to herself.

If my wife only understood.

I try to tell her, as men, we are simple people.

Right? I'm very happy watching the football game

on Sunday with my friends,

eating out of a bag of chips and a box of pizza.

And then here she comes with her wooden bowl.

She has to pour the chips in the wooden bowl.

Twenty minutes later, here comes the charcuterie board.

And all the cheese is shaped like footballs,

and there's a... a pretzel field goal post.

Don't get me wrong, I like charcuterie boards. I like 'em.

So I'm not mad at her for making me a charcuterie board, okay?

As a matter of fact, I appreciate her for that.

But you know what? You know what I don't like?

Later that night, when she's washing dishes,

fucking mad at me.

"I can't believe you did this to me."

"I did this to you? I'm pretty sure you did this to you."

You need to stop being at me

when you throw parties you're not invited to.

Not a good time to point at your wife.

On my show, you laugh, you look forward. You laugh...

...you look forward.

Unless you've been married over 15 years.

At that point, laugh in her face. That's a whole nother level.

I'm only talking to the men that just got married.

Those of you men that just got married, you do not talk shit to your wife.

You wait for a lot of years to go by,

and you're both out of options.

And you'll know too because it's a beautiful feeling of stuck.

There comes a time in your marriage

where you look across the table and just go, "Fuck."

It's me and you, man. It's me and you.

There are times that me and my wife are in a... in an argument,

and then we both start laughing.

'Cause she knows I'mma bring it on stage.

So here's one of those arguments.

I want to start off by talking to all the wives in the room.

All the wives, I want you to know something. Yep.

I want you to know something.

I want every wife here to know

that when my wife asks me to do something for her,

I just do it.

Yeah. Yeah.

She asks me to do it, I do it. No questions asked. And I tell you why.

I love my wife. I have a lot of respect for my wife.

I trust my wife. She is my teammate, and she is my partner.

Yeah. Yeah.

I'm glad you ladies are clapping

'cause I would like to know how come when I ask her

to do something for me,

oh, motherfucker, there's questions!

Lots and lots of fucking questions.

Zero respect, zero trust.

It's always over something simple.

You know, what happens is I ask her to do something for me

and then she asks a question.

Then I very politely answer that question.

But she doesn't like my answer,

so she rewords her question,

and I give her the same answer.

She doesn't like that answer again,

so she rewords the same question,

and then I lose my fucking shit.

And then, somehow, I'm the asshole again.

And I have to hear my wife's, "Oh my God, you're crazy."

I'm crazy?

You ask the same question over and over and over again

expecting different results.

That is the definition of crazy.

The reason I'm crazy is 'cause you're fucking crazy.

And it's always over something simple.

All she has to do is do what I asked like I do for her, and we wouldn't fight.

Right? So we were all... We made plans with two other families

that we were gonna go to the water park together, okay?

The other husband, Jake, from the other family,

he called me up, and he said, "Hey, man, there's a lot of us."

"Why don't we get two cabanas?"

"That way, we have somewhere to sit, and that way, we're all comfortable."

I said, "Great idea."

He said, "We'll get two of 'em, and we'll split it three ways."

I said, "Great idea."

He goes, "We'll get two of 'em, and you book it."

"That way they're together." I said, "No problem."

I went over to my wife to ask her to book the cabanas

because booking cabanas is her department.

So I went over to her, and I said, "Hey, baby, can you book two cabanas?"

And then she goes, "What? Why do we need two cabanas?"

I said, "'Cause I'm asking, pretty girl. Can you please book two cabanas?"

"Are you sure that we need two cabanas?"

"Yeah, it's the second time I've said yes."

"I am sure that we need two cabanas. So, pretty girl, if you could, please,

book two cabanas."

"Well, I don't want to have to pay for two cabanas."

"We're not gonna pay for two cabanas, honey. Okay?"

"We're gonna split it three ways. Can you please book two cabanas?"

"Well, how many people are we gonna have?"

"Because one cabana says it holds ten people."

"Fourteen. We're gonna have fourteen, honey."

"Fourteen is more than ten. You see how that works?"

"Can you please book two cabanas?"

"Well, not all of us are gonna be in the cabana at the same time."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! I'm fucking sure that I need two fucking cabanas!"

And that leads to...

"I don't like the way you're talking to me."

"Now there's gonna be 13 'cause..."

"I don't know why you have to be such a dick all the time."

I said, "Well, it's our horoscope."

"I'm a Capricorn, you're whatever the fuck September is."

I know she's a Virgo.

I know.

I know why wife's a Virgo. I hear it out of her mouth every day.

She walks around the house, "It's my Virgoness. It's my Virgo..."

"It's 'cause I'm a Virgo."

She makes me laugh too 'cause she says that being a Virgo is special.

That's what she says.

Yeah. There's a lot of Virgos here, right? Yeah, let me hear the Virgos. Yeah.

Oh, there's always Virgos

because it is the number one sign. Are you aware of that?

And would you like to know why it's the number one sign?

Because nine months before September is Christmas.

That's right. Your dad put together a swing set for your older sibling.

Guess what he got for Christmas.

Some Christmas pussy.

Happy New Year!

Bah! Virgo.

You're not special. You're an accident.

Yes, my wife is a Virgo.

I am a Capricorn.

Now, we have, uh...

We have been together a long time, me and her,

and we have a... a very special love story I'd like to share with you.

We all ended up together someway somehow, right?

How you met your spouse. I will tell you how I met mine.

I have known her my entire life.

Yep. People don't know that about me and my wife.

We grew up together in Gregory-Portland Texas,

near Corpus Christi, Texas. Yep.

We both went to the same high school.

I am older than her, so I graduated before her.

I barely graduated from that high school.

Thank God for special classes.

She graduated years after me as the valedictorian of that high school.

Yeah.

People like to be impressed with that, and I think that's bullshit.

Should've been more impressed with me. It was harder for me to graduate.

I didn't even get to change classrooms, so that's pretty good.

It is safe to say that we are complete opposites.

Yes, we are.

Me and my wife are complete opposites.

However, we have been married for a long time.

And I think because we are opposites

and we bring different things to the team,

it makes for a stronger team.

And that is why our marriage is successful. Yes.

Yeah.

For example,

I come up with great ideas,

and then she shits on them.

And together, as a team, she decides that I'm a fucking idiot.

And then three months later, she rewords my idea,

and now it's a badass idea. It's...

'Cause she's so smart. Yeah.

Yeah.

I am a... I'm laid back, man.

I'm a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. That's me.

I'm a, "Fuck it. Don't worry about it. We'll figure it out."

That's how I live my life. Yup.

Very simple. I go with the flow, baby.

I'm like a palm tree. I stand tall,

but I go with the fucking flow. You know what I mean?

I don't break.

Now my wife, oh, my wife is organized.

My wife has a label maker,

and she walks around the house labeling where shit goes.

God forbid I put my baseball hat on the end table that night.

Oh, the wheels fall off at our house.

"Does your hat go there? Why is your hat there?"

"It doesn't say hat. It says lamp, and it says clock."

"It doesn't say hat."

"I made a container for your hat, and I labeled it hat."

"There is a hat container."

"There's a fucking container that says hat in the closet."

"Put it in the hat container."

Motherfucker, she loves containers.

Oh, my wife has a container

full of containers that she labeled "Container."

My wife will go out, and she will buy new containers

to replace containers she already bought

because, fuck it, let's light money on fire.

They made a whole store for my wife. It's called "The Container Store."

And she will come home from The Container Store with 68 containers,

and it is the best day of her life.

She comes home excited.

"Look at my containers!"

"Babe, I can't wait to spend the next six days

organizing and labeling containers."

"And then I'm gonna go to the grocery store."

"I'm gonna buy things that already come in containers."

"I'm gonna bring those things home,

I'm gonna take 'em out of those containers,

and I'm gonna put them in pretty labeled containers."

"And then I'm gonna walk around the house bitching and complaining

about all the fucking work I created for myself."

And I'm the crazy one.

Every day, she walks around our house,

"I can't! It's too much. It's too much. It's too much."

"I can't. I can't. I can't. It's too much. It's too much."

And I'm just sitting on the couch going, "Well, fucking don't."

I don't make her do that.

Everything she does, she does it to herself.

She acts like I came home one day,

went in the pantry, grabbed the oatmeal, and said,

"Bitch, is this in its original container?"

I don't fucking think so.

You find a store that sells containers, and you get that shit over here right now.

I want this house to look like a biology lab.

And nobody needs to know when this expires

or the nutritional facts.

She's a hoarder. Oh, my wife's a hoarder.

Not me, man. I'm fuck it. Throw it away. Give it away. That's me.

Not my wife. "I'mma sell it. I'mma sell it. I'mma sell it."

"No, babe. I'mma sell it!"

"Put it in the garage with 50 other things I said I was gonna sell and never did."

"I'mma sell it."

"Babe, I made two trash bags full

of clothes that we no longer wear."

"I need you to put those in the back of my car

so I can drive around for two years with that shit back there."

That shit is out of style by the time she donates it.

I wait for her not to be home. I load that shit in my truck.

I go to Goodwill, and I go, "Fuck it."

Then I go to the ATM machine.

I take 500 dollars out, and I go, "Here, baby. I sold it."

And then she shits on me again.

"Is that all you got?"

"For all that stuff you got 500 dollars?"

"What were you thinking?"

"Well, baby, I don't think, honey. Special needs."

"You're the best."

My wife... Her ability to not make mistakes, that is talent. My wife has talent.

That woman is perfect.

Oh, she never fucks up.

She'll argue with the GPS.

"Why did you turn there?" I'm like, "I don't know. NASA told me to."

"Well, that's not faster."

"Fuck no, baby. Tell me how to get there."

So I graduated from Gregory-Portland High School,

and I wanted to be a comedian.

So I drove out to Los Angeles, California to start my career.

She graduated as the valedictorian, the homecoming queen,

the fucking everything queen.

She ended up with this full scholarship to go to NYU in New York City.

She goes to New York, I go to Los Angeles.

Now you're thinking to yourself, "Well, how did the two of you

end up together?"

Well, I went home to visit my parents,

and me and my dad were drinking and driving around town like we do and...

Everybody relax. I was driving, he was drinking, okay?

Later on, we switched, but...

Everybody relax 'cause were Texans.

We weren't really drinking. It was just beer.

We decided to stop at the post office, and that is where we ran into her father.

I am not surprised that we ran into her father there.

He works there.

There's three employees. He's one of them.

I also want to make it very clear in this story that everybody understands

that I did not go up to him.

He came up to me.

And he said, "Steve, I've been looking for you."

He said, "My daughter's gonna be in Los Angeles starting next week

for the next four months."

"I'm very worried about my baby girl."

"And I don't know anybody that lives there but you."

"I would like to ask you, Steve,

to please be there for my daughter if she needs you."

He wrote her phone number down on a little piece of paper

and he handed it to me.

I thought to myself, "Wow."

"I knew I was gonna fuck her. I didn't know you were gonna hook it up."

I didn't say that.

What came out of my mouth was more like Allstate.

I go, "She's in good hands."

And I'm sorry I said that, ladies, but that is the truth.

I know you're thinking to yourself, "Wow, Steve."

"I thought you and Renae started a little more romantic than that."

No, no, no, no, no.

Ladies, I'm sorry,

but that guy that you met that took you candle making and antiquing,

he only did that to get laid.

Yeah, that's why he did it.

'Cause he got what he wanted, and you got what you wanted.

You know what? I'm proud of you ladies because all the other women before you,

they left 'cause they thought they could do better, but not you.

You saw a fixer-upper.

People ask me all the time. They go, "Steve, why do you put up with it?"

Well, I'm a below-average man married to an above-average woman.

And I work my ass off to keep her.

Just like he does, ladies.

So tonight, remember why he fell in love with you

and give him a little some of that tonight.

Please, help him out.

I'll be honest with you, man. I didn't think I even had a chance.

That girl is beautiful, smart, and classy.

And all the other girls I dated before her had glitter on their tits.

But I am dumb and ambitious.

And when you are dumb and ambitious,

you become very successful.

I called her up. It was a Wednesday night.

I'll never forget. It was her first day in town.

I found out that night that she was gonna share one hotel room

with six other people for the next four months.

I told her not to do that.

I said I'm going on the road to do comedy tomorrow.

I will be gone for four days.

You can stay in my apartment and be comfortable.

Nobody will be here but you.

I came back four days later. She was in my apartment.

Now here's what freaked me out.

She cleaned it.

Other girls stayed. They never cleaned it.

They stole some shit, but they never cleaned it.

And I'm talking about for real clean. Fabuloso clean.

I'm talking about, like, this girl swept and mopped and vacuumed.

She washed the sheets on my bed, which had never been done before.

They were still covered in glitter.

But after she cleaned my house, I thought to myself,

"Oh my God. I'mma marry this girl."

And that's the last time she cleaned our house.

It was me and her the next four months. She never left.

We hung out every single day.

At the end of the four months, she said, "I gotta go back to NYU."

"Do me a favor." I said, "Anything."

She goes, "Don't tell anybody from back home that we're dating."

I didn't even know we were dating.

She goes, "Keep our secret."

"I don't want my dad to hear from somebody else."

"Because if he hears from somebody else, he's gonna have a heart attack."

She goes, "We will tell them when we go home for Christmas."

I said, "Okay."

I tried to keep the secret,

but my dad was asking questions.

"What's going on with, uh, Raymond's daughter?"

I said, "Nothing, Dad. Nothing's going on."

"Bullshit nothing's going on."

I said, "Dad, nothing's going on."

He goes, "You're fucking her." I said, "Yes. Yes, I am. Yes, yes."

He goes, "I knew you would, son."

"Listen, they all go dumpster diving."

He goes, "That's where your mother met me."

I said, "Dad, please keep a secret."

"We're gonna tell everybody over Christmas."

But I didn't help my dad keep the secret, okay?

See, I love baseball.

I travel this great country of ours, I go to baseball games.

I miss my dad.

So I always buy him a hat from the home team,

and I mail it to him, right?

So I had gone to New York to visit her. I went to Yankee Stadium.

I bought him a hat.

I asked her to mail it to my dad.

She put her return address.

Some of you remember

that there are three employees at that post office.

Her father is one of them.

My dad gets there to pick up his mail, and her dad is holding the box.

He says, "Why are you getting mail from my daughter?"

And my dad goes, "Well, Steve's fucking her." And he left.

That's how he found out.

We're all laughing now, but shit was bad, man.

I mean, he did not have a heart attack, but he did get Bell's palsy.

For those of you that don't know what Bell's palsy is,

that's when half of your face no longer works.

I have to go home for Christmas,

sit down in front of this man,

and let him know that I am now the boyfriend of his daughter,

and he gave me the number.

And half is face is not working.

And I am a comedian. I don't need this shit.

The only way I know how to make friends is to make jokes.

We sat down together, and he goes, "I'm still mad at you."

And all that came out of my mouth was,

"Well, you should tell the other side of your face."

Six months into her living with me, I got Bell's palsy.

Oh, her father called up right away. He goes, "That's what you get."

"Karma. It's karma!"

I said, "I don't think it's karma. I think it's your daughter."

"I think your daughter gives men that love her Bell's palsy."

'Cause I made a mistake.

And that mistake is I married a beautiful woman.

Beautiful women are a pain in the fucking ass.

They are expensive, they are takers, and they are selfish.

If I could do it all over, I'd marry a chubby six with a good personality.

Those are givers.

And as I say it out loud, I realize that's exactly what she did.

Don't laugh, fellas. I can see most of you.

Me and my wife, man, we're the complete opposite.

That's no bullshit.

We are the complete opposite, and we never, ever, ever agree.

As a matter of fact, my wife told me one time that

she would agree with me, but then we would both be wrong.

Oh, sometimes she agrees with me, and it fucks me up.

It does. She'll be like, "That sounds great."

I'm like, "What the fuck is going on?"

"Well, if you want to do that and be happy, you should."

And I'm like, "Oh, no, no, no, no, no."

"I don't want to be happy. I want to be with you."

Now we're raising kids together.

Oh man. We got an eight-year-old and a three-year-old.

Let me tell you something.

Our life has changed a lot.

And I love being a dad. There's no doubt about it.

Every single day, I love being a dad. Yup.

And I love my kids with everything I got, but they wear me out.

And the only way I can get them to stop moving is that tablet.

I need that tablet.

And my wife's a Virgo. "There's a schedule and a calendar."

"There's rules. There are rules."

My poor kids are only allowed 30 minutes a day, twice a day. That is it.

And I need those 30 minutes.

And I sit those kids down, I give them the tablet,

and I say, "Here, I love you both, but please..."

"I got 30 minutes to fuck your mom."

Twenty-eight to convince her.

I know it's Sunday after church,

but if I don't do it now, it's not gonna happen.

I'm not afraid to admit it. We're day-fuckers, okay?

I'm not saying we don't try to have sex at night.

I'm just saying sometimes we don't make it.

And that's also not fair to me.

I am not in charge of the sexual activities in our home.

My wife is in charge of all sexual activities.

I am the husband.

My job is to have the dick on deck at all times. That's my job, okay?

I don't know when she's gonna need it, but it's always readily available.

I've never said no.

Sometimes in the morning she'll flash me, and I'm like, "I got dick. Right here."

And she'll go, "Tonight."

"For real?"

"Man, don't fuck with me. For real?"

"Show me the schedule. Is it in the schedule?"

And it's in the schedule.

And I'm into it, and she's into it,

and then the night comes, and we're both real quiet in our bed.

I already have my PAP machine on.

I love my wife. She's not a quitter.

"I said I would."

Just the saddest I ever hear her.

"If you want to, I will."

I talk shit back.

I gotta wear that stupid thing!

Captain Evil made me do a sleep study.

I found out I was dying 49 and a half times at night.

You laugh, but I would wake up scared, man.

And then my wife, "Oh my God. Every time you die, you wake me up."

"How many times are you gonna die tonight?"

"I kicked you, I rolled you over."

"I put a pillow on your face."

"Go die in the other room."

"Well, then, die quiet."

"Because if you wake me up again, I'm gonna kill you myself."

"Don't you know that I'm more tired than you?"

"Because I do everything."

My wife says that.

My wife walks around the house talking shit.

"I do everything. I'm exhausted."

"From doing everything, I'm so tired."

She's the only one in our house allowed to be tired.

I tried it one time.

I go,"Babe, can I have a second? I'm tired."

"From what?"

"You're tired from what?"

Shit, my bad, man.

I'll have a cup of coffee and a whiskey and shut the fuck up.

It's hard to raise kids, man.

And it's hard because of TikTok.

Instagram, right?

They watch this shit, man,

and they have no idea what the American dream is anymore.

They watch Tiktok and they think, "Oh, the American dream is fancy cars,

and fancy boats, and fancy clothes, and fancy houses."

Man, that's not the American dream.

My grandparents did not come to this country for fancy things.

They came to this country 'cause they wanted a roof over their head,

a job,

and they wanted to put food in their families' bellies.

And they wanted to make their own decisions for their family

and have a little bit of freedom.

That's the American dream.

Nothing else. Nothing else.

It's hard.

I want to raise my kids the same way I grew up

because I love the way I grew up.

See, I didn't grow up rich, but I didn't grow up poor.

I would never insult my parents and say I grew up poor, right?

We didn't grow up in a big house, but my mom made it a home.

And I want to raise my kids the way I grew up,

but that'll never happen.

Too much has changed.

Right? Too much has changed.

My son can watch cartoons on that damn tablet

as many times as he wants forever.

And all I had growing up was Saturday morning.

And I don't know about you,

but I was awake before the TV came back on the air.

All of you in your twenties right now, you're going, "Wait, what the fuck?"

Yeah, when we were kids, the TV would end.

At night, a flag would come up.

And the...

And the...

The whole house would be like, "Oh, fuck it. Go to bed."

"That's it.

And all the experiences I had growing up that my son will never have. Right?

My son will never know what it's like to sit on the kitchen floor

talking to your girlfriend all night

because the only phone in the house

was stuck to the wall.

And my son will never know the feeling of my dad getting on the other line.

"That's enough. Go to bed."

"Make sure you pee first. I don't want you to wet the bed tonight."

I love, love, love the way I grew up, man.

And all the experiences I had growing up, you know?

Simpler time, right? Simpler time.

My dad had to be at work at five o'clock in the morning, you know?

So my mom, ladies, was left to do everything with us kids.

And when I say everything, I mean, for real, everything.

Not your everything.

Oh, stop, ladies. I know Maria comes twice a month. Stop.

"Oh no. She only does the deep clean. She only does the deep clean."

"I do everything."

My mom would wake us up in the morning for school, you know,

and I miss those days. Simpler times, you know?

And I know my mom loved me the most 'cause she would wake me up last.

And even the way she would wake me up.

She'd walk in my room, and she'd rub my cheek.

And she would say, "Five minutes."

This is how I knew she really loved me the most

'cause I would say, "Ma, I'm cold."

And she would pick out an outfit for me to wear,

and she'd put it in the dryer, and she'd warm it up for me.

Look at all the moms. "Oh my God."

"That is the sweetest thing I will never do."

I don't know about you,

but when I was growing up, man, we never went out to eat.

My mom always cooked.

And we woke up to the smell of breakfast.

My mom would make our lunch, and we would listen to fun music,

and my mom would make that lunch with love and compassion.

She's put us in the newish car, and she'd drive us to school, you know?

And I miss those days.

If you have a good mother like mine, give her a round of applause.

She deserves it. Yes.

Please. Please.

Beautiful days.

But, every once in a while, my dad would take us to school and...

that was the worst day of our life.

And there was no five minute warning.

All we got was...

"Get the fuck up."

And I'd be like, "Oh my God, Dad, is there a fire?"

"There's no fire, fat boy. Get the fuck up."

"But I'm cold. Can you pick out an outfit and put it in the dryer?"

"What the fuck is going on in my house?"

"Your mom's titty's not here for you to suck, titty baby."

"You get out of bed before I get you out of bed."

Me and my sisters would have an emergency meeting in the hallway.

"Do you know what's going on?"

And then my big sis, she'll be like, "Mom left. She finally left."

"She said if we didn't behave,

one day we would wake up, and she would not be here."

"Today is that day."

"Now we're stuck with that asshole."

My dad didn't even know how to take us to school.

He would ask us, "So what do we do now?

"What do we do now? Go get Mom. That's what we do now."

"We should be eating breakfast. We should be singing songs."

"We should be happy."

"We're all sad."

"And this outfit doesn't match."

"And I'm cold."

"At least make our lunch, man."

And then he would make a dad lunch.

Leftover spaghetti between two breads. "What the fuck?"

"We can't take that shit to school."

"All right, kids, let's go."

"'Let's go?' It's 6:32 in the morning."

"School doesn't start till 8:30."

But I forgot that he was gonna take us to school in the work truck.

And it took 40 minutes just to start that piece of shit.

All of you in your twenties, you do not know what a carburetor is.

You do not know that when we were kids, there was no backseat in a pickup truck.

All there was was a bench that went across the front.

And in the middle of the floorboard was a shifter this big.

And if you sat in the middle...

Thank you.

And if you sat in the middle, you had to sit like this.

And he would panic on the freeway. "Move your ass."

"Move your ass!"

You'd move over, and you'd have a shifter right there.

My dad would drive, right?

My little sister, she was the smallest. She was in the middle.

And then my fat sister would sit next to her.

Everybody relax. She identifies as fat. And...

I sat next to the door so I could hold it shut on the turns.

6:35 in the morning,

my dad's already smoking his first Marlboro Red.

In the truck with his kids.

Window cracked that much.

'Cause if he's gonna get cancer, we're all getting cancer.

We did shit as a family back then.

All of you in your twenties, you know where you charge your cellphone?

Yeah. Well, when we were kids, fire came out of there.

Fire.

Took him 20 minutes just to start that truck.

Twenty minutes in the driveway.

He would talk to it like it was his wife. "Come on, Brenda. Come on."

He would do this to it. "Come on, Brenda."

"Come... Come on, baby."

I was a kid. I'm like, "Dad, why do you... why do you..."

So disappointed in me. "'Cause you gotta warm it up!"

Even if he got the truck started, you're still not leaving.

'Cause now he's gotta warm it up.

Twenty more minutes of...

Us kids would be there, "Dad, we're getting sleepy."

"Oh shit. You're not getting sleepy, you're dying."

"That's the exhaust. Roll the window down."

We... We are the last people on planet earth that understand what this means.

That's it. It's just us.

Every... Everybody here,

if I go like this to you, you know I'm saying roll the window down.

What's gonna happen when I'm 70

and I need some 16-year-old to roll the window down?

My dumb ass...

That kid's gonna be like, "Oh my God. That old man wants me to jack him off."

Those of you laughing the hardest, you grew up like me, man.

And the rest of you, fuck you and your privilege.

You know what I'm talking about.

I still... I still remember what that truck smells like, man.

And maybe for you, it wasn't a truck. Maybe it was an old Station Wagon,

or an old piece of shit Chevette, you know?

But you know what it smells like. It had a smell, man.

I used to get in that truck and...

I said, "Dad, what's that smell?"

And he would say, "That's hard work, son."

I'm older now. That is the smell of balls.

That is years and years of manual labor balls

just soaked into the seats.

Mixed in with some Marlboro Red smoke

and a little bit of Crown Royal. That's what that smell is.

Sometimes I walk past a homeless person, I'm like, "Whoo, there's the truck."

All of you in your twenties, man, you've never pushed a vehicle

to pop the clutch.

You've never stalled out. Oh, that truck would stall out, man.

We'd be at the stop sign. Dad would take off.

Pow! Shit.

Break our little baby necks.

It would always roll right out into the middle of the intersection.

Now we gotta start the whole process over in front of the whole town.

Me and my little sister were there, "Come on, Brenda."

"Please, Brenda!"

My fat sister was already eating the spaghetti sandwich.

"It's pretty good."

"Less eating, more fingers!"

Man, we would...

We would get, like, three or four blocks from our school,

and that's when me and my little sister would panic.

Me and my little sister would be like, "Hey, Dad. Right here. We're good, Dad."

"No, we're gonna walk. We're good to walk."

My sister, "'I haven't even finished my spaghetti sandwich."

"I'm not gonna walk."

But my dad would ask us. He would say, "Why do kids want to walk?"

And when you're young, you say dumb shit.

Me and my little sister would say something horrible to my father.

We would say, "Dad, we're embarrassed."

"We're embarrassed of this truck,

and we don't want our friends to see us in this truck with you."

I can't believe I said that to him.

And I'm glad that I get to tell the world

that I am not embarrassed of my father at all.

I am proud of my father. Proud.

Very proud.

Because...

I now know what he was doing

'cause I am now a dad.

And I know that my dad was doing what good men do.

They wake up every day, and they go to work, and they sacrifice

so that their wife and kids can live a better life

than even them themselves.

And that's what my dad was doing. Yup.

So...

now that I'm a dad, I think about Brenda all the time.

I think about Brenda because I was in that truck every once in a while,

and it was the worst day of my life.

And I now realize that my dad was in that truck

every single day for years

just so his family could have a little more.

I realize that my dad never called in sick or drunk.

'Cause even if he was drunk, he went.

Man shit.

He still found the time to coach me in little league.

He was at the school when me and my sisters needed him.

And every Sunday morning, my mom made sure we all got dressed up

and went to church and thanked God for the things that we had. Yeah.

Yup.

Yup.

Like I said, I want my kids, especially my son,

to learn the same lessons I learned growing up,

but he never will.

I mean, I do this for a living, okay?

I can't go home tomorrow and be like, "I work hard for this, son."

My son's gonna be like, "Really? Shitting on Mom on Netflix, is that hard?"

"You don't sacrifice."

"I watch you start your truck with an app on your phone like a little bitch."

So it's hard!

How do you raise kids in this soft, spoiled, crybaby world? I don't know.

All I can tell you is what I do to my son. I make him work.

I put his little ass to work.

He's only eight years old,

but he's in charge of the 11 acres we live on.

He's in charge of the...

Yeah, he helps me with the chicken coop.

He brings in the trash cans. He cleans his own room.

He collects the eggs, and he sells those eggs to the neighbors.

And I tax him 50 percent.

Yes!

Because I have made it,

and he has not!

And he needs to earn it.

These kids are just growing up different than us, man.

You know, it's amazing what these kids want.

They ant hugs, and they want love. I mean...

Encouragement.

Fucking pussies. We didn't grow up like that.

My son will say things to me that blow my mind, man.

We were in the truck together, me and him the other day,

and my son goes, "Dad,

Grandpa Joe told me he was... that he was proud of me."

I'm like, "What the fuck?"

He goes, "Yeah. He gives me hugs and tells me he loves me."

I was like, "What the fuck?"

"Are they good hugs? I bet they're good hugs."

"How does he say I love you? I've never heard it."

My son hears it from me. I've never heard it from my dad.

Me and dad, we like to drink whiskey together, you know?

Even trying to hug him is so awkward.

Like, I'll try, man. I'm like, "Dad, come hug me."

"What the fuck, man?"

"You trying to fuck me or something?"

Shit, I just want a hug, dude.

I'll tell him too. "Dad, tell me you love me."

And his first response is always, "Don't... I'm trying to have a good time."

"Don't... Don't start your shit with me, man."

I go, "One time, Dad, before you die, please tell me you love me. Please."

You know what his second response is? "Why? So you can take advantage of me?"

Then he really fucked me up

'cause he goes, "Do you tell your wife you love her?"

I said, "Of course I do, Dad. Every day I tell my wife I love her."

"And look how she treats you."

But I do love drinking with him, man.

And you have to get old enough in your life, fellas,

to understand they want to tell you things before they die,

and you need to be smart enough to shut the fuck up and listen. Yes.

The problem with my dad, though,

is sometimes he tells me things that I don't need to know.

You know, when we're having our drinks.

Like, one of my favorite things about growing up

was Sunday sundae.

You know, my dad invented it. That's why you don't know what it is.

After church, every once in a while when we were kids,

not all the time, but every once in a while,

my dad would announce to the car, "It's a Sunday sundae."

We would get so happy.

'Cause we knew that he was gonna go to H-E-B,

he was gonna buy three gallons of ice cream,

one for each kid.

All the things you need to make a sundae, he would put it on the kitchen table,

and he would look at us kids and say, "It's a Sunday sundae."

My fat sister would lose her shit.

I loved it!

Dad and I are having drinks,

and I told him, I said, "Dad, I just want to thank you

for all the wonderful memories of Sunday sundae."

He goes, "Hey, I want to thank you 'cause that's when I would fuck your mom."

There goes a good memory, Dad. Thank you, buddy.

But sometimes...

Sometimes my dad tells me something that blows my mind.

Because my dad,

he may not be an educated man, but he's a smart man.

We were back there one day drinking, and my dad came up to me.

He found out that me and my wife had gotten pregnant for the second time.

He said, "I understand you're pregnant." I said, "Yes, sir, we are."

My dad said, "I hope you have a daughter, son."

And I said, "Why, Dad?"

He said, "Because being a girl dad is the most beautiful thing a man can be."

He said being a girl dad is special.

Yeah.

And I didn't understand.

And I looked at my dad and I said, "Dad, I don't understand."

"Because that little boy in there,

I don't know how anything can be more special than that."

And he goes, "You know your sisters?"

"I love them."

He goes, "I like you."

But, man, is he right again.

'Cause I have a daughter.

Her name is Delilah Rae.

Yep. Thank you.

She's the most beautiful girl in all the world.

And it is special, and it is amazing, and it is different.

And I'm sorry for all the husbands in this room

that do not have daughters.

I can't explain to you what it feels like.

But all I can tell you is that my wife puts that little girl in a little dress

with her little bow in her hair and her little purse,

and she walks up to me, and she says, "Daddy, hug you."

And I turn gay as shit. I'm like...

That's my baby!

Somebody get me a mango White Claw. Quick.

And I used to be hard.

And I used to be strong, I used to be tough,

and now I cry at commercials.

I'm like, "Fuck you, St. Jude."

Sarah McLachlan, adopt a puppy.

That little girl puts makeup on my face, and I let her.

She... She paints my toenails, and I let her.

I never shopped a day in my life.

And I'm on Amazon at night showing my wife.

"I'mma buy that for baby girl. I'mma buy that."

That little girl has more clothes and more shoes and more outfits

and more toys than she could ever, ever have.

Meanwhile, my son's in a wife beater that doesn't fit.

His pinky toe's hanging out of his tennis shoe.

He's walking around the house homeless. "What about me, Daddy?"

I'm like, "I don't know, buddy. What about you, man?"

"The trash needs to come in, the yard looks like shit,

the chicken coop needs to be cleaned,

and the customers have been calling. They need their eggs."

"You need to spend some money on yourself, son."

"You want to make extra money around here?"

"Me and your little sister, we're gonna have a tea party."

"You can be the waiter."

'Cause, as a dad, I have two responsibilities.

Responsibility number one is to turn that little boy

into a good hard-working man.

And the only way to do that is to be hard on him.

Yup.

My other responsibility as a dad with my daughter

is to teach her how a man is supposed to treat her.

Yup, big difference.

Right.

So, yes, I will be hard on my son, and I will spoil my daughter

because I reserve the right to ruin some man's life, too, someday.

And I want my daughter's future husband to hear nothing from her but,

"My daddy. My daddy. My father."

"This is not how I'm to be treated."

"My daddy told me... My daddy..."

And I also want that little girl

to grow up to be exactly like my wife.

Oh yeah.

'Cause I want my wife to know

what the fuck it's like to live with her too.

Oh, I want her to get her payback.

And some of you women are having daughters becoming teenagers,

and you can't figure out why you and her can't get along.

Well, congratulations, you have met yourself.

And your husband loves it when you come to him like this.

"Mmm, mmm."

"Go talk to your daughter right now."

"Why? Because she has an attitude problem,

she doesn't take no for an answer,

and she spends every dollar that we give her."

And your husband's sitting there going, "Wow, you know anybody like that?"

"Oh, shut up. Your payback's coming

because she's gonna marry a dumbass like you

and give you both Bell's palsy."

"Payback, bitch."

I am Steve Treviño. Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

♪ Well, I was raised up... ♪

Thank you!

This show is dedicated

to people like my mom and my dad,

people like my wife's mom and dad,

to the people that wake up every single day and do the hard jobs,

the hard-working people of the world.

I want this special to be for you.

Thank you! Thank you!

And I could not live my life

and do all the things I do without my beautiful wife,

Captain Evil, the director and the producer tonight.

Give her a round of applause, please.

♪ Don't let me catch you fittin' in ♪

♪ 'Cause everyone's an outlaw ♪

♪ Till it's time to do outlaw shit ♪

My wife and I, we love you guys so much.

Thank you for the continued love and support.

Goodnight.

♪ Well, I was raised up by a simple man ♪

♪ I grew up with a gun in my hand ♪