Dads Gone Wild
A couple of teenagers raided their dads liquor cabinet and got caught.
Their punishment?
PARTY TIME.
A couple of teenagers raided their dads liquor cabinet and got caught.
Their punishment?
PARTY TIME.
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.
Back when I was single, or even married without a kid, planning things wasn’t necessary. I’d get an impromptu phone call from a friend and just say “sure, I’ll be right there!” Then I’d actually be right there, and we’d spend the next 11 hours sitting at a bar.
Nowadays, if I don’t have something on the books at least a week in advance, I can’t even answer that phone call. Just getting yourself and your kid out of the house takes an eternity. When you become a parent, the concept of “spur of the moment” ceases to exist.
Having children means the death of spontaneity.
Having your first kid is not easy. Despite all the books and the advice, there’s really have no way of knowing what you’re getting into or what you’ll need to survive it all. Every parent gets a bunch of crap when they are having a kid, and a fair amount of it are things that they initially have no real idea what to do with – until they suddenly need to figure it out REAL QUICK.
It’s kind of like a computer game where you collect all sorts of random items you can’t fathom any use for, and then you get to a specific puzzle and it suddenly becomes clear that the only way to solve it is by using that jar of butt paste you somehow acquired way back when.
Last week I wrote a lighthearted piece about my wife’s obsession with Halloween. And I posted this terrifying clip from “Twin Peaks,” featuring a character I truly consider to be the most frightening fictional creation of all time.
Those posts were meant to be fun, and so is Halloween. Being scared is fun (unless you’re my wife or my friend Suj or my older brother Mark) and eating candy is fun and dressing up is fun (especially if you’re my wife or my friend Suj). And having a little kid with whom to experience Halloween makes all of those things even more enjoyable.
Obviously, today actually is Halloween, and while this post may be violating the generally accepted tenor of the holiday, it seems an appropriate time to discuss one of the toughest aspects of being a parent.
It’s completely and utterly terrifying.