Who Is Your Daddy

For those that don’t already know, it seems I slipped one past the goalie and somehow impregnated my wife. When she first told me I was well, shocked would not be the correct term. Scarred shitless would be a better expression to describe my feelings at the time.

With the passage of time however, the fear has been slowly replaced by excitement and innocent nervousness. Still, I never thought the day would come. I always looked at having kids with utter ambivalence. If it happened great. If it didn’t it would not have been any skin off of my back. I never felt my life would be incomplete if I didn’t have any offspring. My life is full enough and I didn’t need a kid to justify my lot in life. However, I wasn’t against it either. Not to toot my own horn but, I am pretty good with kids, basically because I am one myself.

I generally like children. I like them when they are about 2-3 years old. That is when they become interesting. Before that, they are boring. I never got that gushy or longing feeling inside of me whenever I saw an infant. I would always think the same thing. Okay, it’s a baby. They shit, cry and take anything within arm’s reach and stick it in their mouth. I get it.

Still, I have nothing against babies. I get that they will grow and become people. It is just I find them kind of un-interesting. I also don’t get the whole miracle or special feeling that often gets associated with them. Making them is easy. It does not take any particular talent. Any IQ challenged, half drunk, toothless moron, can create one.

With all that said, as I now find myself in the position of having my own, I have been inundated with congrats and adulations. Which I truly appreciate as does Joyce. I still have some nervousness. And it is not about being a parent or having a kid. I just don’t want to become an asshole.

I hate, hate, hate when all parents do, is blather on about their offspring. No one gives a shit. I understand you are proud of them and all that. But, please most kids are just average who will grow to live average adult lives. When I ask how you are doing don’t tell me how your crotch fruit is. (Thanks, Vince for that term.) You still have a life. Don’t live it vicariously through your kids.

I also don’t want to become over-protective. These yuppie parents have safety helmeted our society to death. I remember when I was a child. If I saw a kid riding his bike with a safety helmet, not only would he have been made fun of, but he would have gotten a beating as well. Let them live already because all you do by insulating them is create a big pussy of an adult, who when they grow up will become boring.

So, if anyone sees me turn into the above please pull me aside and kick my ass. Seriously, both Joyce and I are excited and appreciate all the kind words we have received the last two weeks. I really don’t care if we have a boy or girl, (everyone says that but, I really don’t have a preference.) as long as it is not a hermaphrodite. So far Joyce has had a little sickness but, overall it hasn’t been too bad. Now, if anyone has any daycare recommendations please send them my way.