Is there anything more enticing to kids than a bouncy house?
Is there anything more nerve-wracking for parents than a bouncy house?
Most of these unregulated party props serve as manic mosh pits full of kids ranging from toddler to teen, and every one of them leaves their brain outside along with their sneakers. The only thing worse than the maelstrom that ensues should you try to prevent your kid from setting foot inside one of those things (forget Deflategate, Inflategate is REAL!) is the heart attack that ensues while you watch them navigate the bouncy box of doom.
Some holes just weren’t meant to be squeezed through, whether you’re wearing shoes or not!
(Allow me to apologize IMMEDIATELY for that imagery.)
According to the hourly reminders that someone set on my phone, Mother’s Day is this weekend. It’s the one solitary day all year long that anyone ever says anything nice about moms.
That last line there was a little bit of sarcasm. Because let’s face it, when it comes to parenting, moms already get all the praise.
Sure, that “praise” often calcifies into “being taken for granted,” which is just about complaint #1 from women everywhere (along with “I want more romance/passion!” and “socks go IN the hamper, not NEAR the hamper!”) but if you think about it, it’s a positive thing! Abilities and skills are only taken for granted once someone comes to rely on them. Kudos, moms everywhere! You’ve raised the bar for yourselves.
Unfortunately, that bar is just a little too high for your liking. So I’m going to level the playing field.
So last week was kind of shitty.
Taxes screwed us. The New York City public school system lottery screwed us. I got sunburn. I went to the dentist. My landlord raised the rent. I got spoiled on “The Americans”. I thought Harrison Ford kind of ruined the Star Wars trailer. It was pretty lame all around.
As a result, I found myself in a bit of a funk for a few days. Thank god I have a kid.
Every year around this time, a million different websites do some goofy version of a March Madness competition. So far I’ve seen brackets for beer, TV shows, bands, even junk food.
But has anyone done one about parenting? Probably! But now I have too! Introducing March Sadness: Dad and Buried’s Tournament of Complaints!
Where even the winner sucks!
Parenting has a lot in common with sports. Raising a child requires the energy and stamina of an athlete, the vigilance of a referee, the devotion of a die-hard fan and the patience of a coach.
Being a parent is basically like competing in a daily, year-long, rest-of-your-life tournament in which your endurance and your wits are constantly being tested, usually by someone much smaller who has to constantly be told what to do while even though they’re a lot more important than you.
Coincidentally, except for the fact that your kids go to college after you’ve (mostly) finished, instead of not really going to college at all (because the NCAA is corrupt!), parenting is a lot like March Madness.
Let’s count the ways…