A good friend of mine just had his first baby.

Yesterday, in honor of the happy occasion, I pumped the brakes on my signature snark and shared a rare cheesy post, about some of the the unexpected pleasures of fatherhood. Then I went home, told my son to stop doing something, and had this exchange:

“Why?”
“Because I said so!”
“That’s not a reason.”

Needless to say, today I’m back to my old self.

I don’t know why you decided to have kids. Maybe you grew up in a big family and wanted the same. Maybe you grew up in a small family and wanted the opposite. Maybe you didn’t decide at all and it was just a happy accident! Maybe you’re one of the Duggars and if you don’t have kids you’ll burn in hell. I don’t know!

I wanted to have kids for a very specific set of reasons. Unfortunately, not many of them have panned out so far. Probably because they’re questionable reasons to have kids and I shouldn’t have been allowed to.

Questionable Reasons To Have Kids

• To fetch me things. Please. He doesn’t fetch me shit. Dude’s even lazier than I am!
• To watch sports with me. If we’re watching something together, odds are it’s something he wants to watch. Unless you consider cartoon trucks transforming into robots a sport, then it ain’t sports.
• To get a tax break. I live in NYC. There are no tax breaks here.
• To finally get a dog. I live in NYC. Any dog that can fit in my apartment is not a dog worth having.
• To finally get a cat. Stupid allergies. And stupid beautiful wife!
• To scratch my back. I can occasionally get him to do this, but then I have to go to a blood bank for a refill.
• To experience things anew. This actually happens, except it’s mostly shit I had enough of on my first go-round, like homework, and cauliflower.
• To do housework. See above. Also, reach above, and dust that shelf, please. He’s too short.
• To give me an excuse to watch cartoons. Turns out I don’t much like cartoons!
• To watch my favorite movies with me. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
• To laugh at my jokes. He never laughs at my jokes. In his defense, have you heard my jokes? They’re sophisticated! They’re over his head. I forgive him.
• To make me laugh. He actually does make me laugh, but I have a strict policy against letting him know it.
• To piss on the seat. Finally, someone else to take the blame! Except his aim is impeccable, and he gets as irritated by my occasional misfires as Mom and Buried does. So now it’s two against one. LAME.
• To provide access to junk food. Please. The only “junk food” my son has is Pirate Booty and Veggie Sticks. I know junk food. Junk food is a friend of mine. THOSE THINGS ARE NOT JUNK FOOD.
• To make me money. What’s the opposite of making money?
• To help me hit my quotas. These iPhones aren’t gonna make themselves!
• Joy. This one actually did pan out! I often get out of bed at the crack of dawn to feed my kid, dress my kid, take my kid somewhere he doesn’t want to go (e.g., school, t-ball, anywhere but the playground), endure some screaming and maybe a tantrum or two, experience a dollop of public embarrassment and probably collect a few stains for my trouble, and then when I get home and my wife suggests I give him a bath, I’m all, “Oh, JOY.”

See? Parenting may crush most of them, but some dreams do come true!