I love my kids, I just hate parenting
Recent circumstances are forcing me to consider explaining some of life’s most difficult truths to my young son.
He is still a few months away from his second birthday, but some conversations just can’t wait. The world just moves too darn fast to take any chances.
It’s time I talk to him about “the birds and the bees.”
This weekend – this gorgeous, unseasonably hot weekend – Mom and Buried and I took Detective Munch to the park. We couldn’t keep him cooped up on such beautiful days, right? Plus, on Sunday, there was a Food Truck Rally happening and I needed me some food. Little did I know, there would be a side of bad parenting with it.
We weren’t the only ones with this idea. The park was teeming with people, many of them waiting in long lines to sample some Kimchi Tacos or Sicilian slices or gourmet ice cream sandwiches. We went for the tacos and they – and the accompanying nachos – were fantastic.
The other thing that happened in which I fell down on the parenting job and everyone thought I was an asshole? Not so fantastic.
Every Spring, for the past two years, I have been faced with a crippling bout of allergies. I never really had them before, so their onset is a tad confusing. I’ve lived in NYC for more than four years now, in the same neighborhood, so as much as this Red Sox fan would love to, I can’t blame the Big Apple.
I’d like to blame the trees, but Marky Mark made that seem too ridiculous. I’d also like to blame The Trees, but my days of listening to Rush were long gone well before the allergies set in.
So after a brief, slightly ill-considered, largely well-inebriated period of elimination, I’ve come to a startling conclusion: I’m allergic to my son.
My wife called me today to alert me to the latest adorable thing my son did. Are you ready for this?!
She was getting him ready for his bath, and he decided that the moment right AFTER his diaper came off was the perfect moment to urinate. So urinate he did, all over the floor. Then he slipped in his own urine. And fell. Into his own urine.
SUPER CUTE, right? The kind of thing you’d expect to see an adorable homeless man do while you’re waiting for the subway. I’m actually a little shocked I haven’t seen that happen. I live in New York!
But toddlers and the homeless have a lot of other behavior in common. So much so that it can be hard to tell them apart.
Let’s try.
Most people think technology makes our lives better, and that living back in the days without electricity would have sucked. I tend to agree. But there were some things about those days that might have been pretty cool.
Especially the child labor stuff.