I love my kids, I just hate parenting
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…
I’m kind of a big deal. But you already knew that. I mean, I’m regularly featured on Scary Mommy.
Of course, even if I weren’t a world-renowned blogger whose diatribes about how living with children is like being in prison have been translated into multiple languages and who has subsequently been hated-on by people on multiple continents, I’d still be pretty damn important. Because I’m a parent.
And if kids are our most valuable resource, then parents are priceless.
Except we’re not. Because parents are overrated.
First things first: I support the troops; I love America and Ford and apple pie and Credence Clearwater Revival; I pledge allegiance to the flag and take my hat off during the national anthem; I hate terrorism and ISIS and think they must be stopped, somehow.
Just not by my son. I don’t want him near a military recruiting office. Not in a million years.
I won’t let my son join the military.
I spend a lot of time complaining about all the things parenting has taken away from me. My energy, my free time, any instance of silence, the ability to open a bag of chips without a mop-headed midget running in and demanding all of them, without even knowing what they are.
But today I’m looking at the bright side.
Parenting doesn’t just take, it gives. And over the past five years, I’ve acquired some amazing talents that never would have manifested if I weren’t responsible for a child.
Because with great responsibility comes great power…