Shotgun Daddy: Father of the Year

Mission Statement

This site has no agenda, and its author has no chip on his shoulder. He promises not to whine about "fatherhood equality," and he'll do his best not to sound superior. He is, afterall, just a dad. Instead, he promises to tell good stories about his three kids. That's about it.

The sad truth is that not every day is a good day. Some days are like today, a day when you start pining for nap time at nine in the morning and praying for bedtime as soon as the nap is over. Summer vacation is mercifully coming to end, and I think it will be good for Alison and Henry to have some time apart once school starts, but for now there are times when I feel like I'm part father and part referee.

Most of the time life is beautiful, but sometimes you worry that if you look away, your four-year-old boy's head might start spinning around. You take him into his room to get him ready for bed, and you discover a disaster that's been building all afternoon -- toys, shoes, and clothes all over the floor. Even though he's cranky, and you're cranky, you still make him clean his room -- by himself -- before he gets ready for bed. He argues the whole time, but you forget that you are an adult and you argue right back. When he struggles to pull off a shirt that's too small, you don't help, you scold him. It's at this point when a small voice in your head tells you that the time you've spent crafting that clever acceptance speech for your Father of the Year Award has probably been a waste of time.

And when your boy runs down the hall just so he can turn out the light in the bathroom where your daughter is taking a shower, you've had enough. This boy is going straight to bed.

But then you realize that it's at least a little bit funny that he's turned the light off on your daughter, even though she's screaming at the top of her lungs, so you decide that he won't go straight to bed. Wouldn't it be fun to play a game of cards?

As you flip through the deck of vocabulary flash cards, you think to yourself, wow, I really am a good father. All I want is to put this boy to bed so I can relax, but I'm playing a game with him instead. And you wonder if maybe you should work on that speech a little more. Surely you are the best dad in the world.

But then your boy starts to test your patience. You show him the picture of a bluebird, and he says it's a fish. You ask him what color it is, and he says it's yellow. You go to the next card, a picture of a sun, and he says it's a rainbow. He finds this whole thing to be absolutely hilarious, so hilarious that he can hardly speak, but it will be at least three hours before you get the joke. In a huff, you stuff the cards back in their box, say goodnight to the now-crying boy, and click out the light.

Father of the year, indeed.

Comments

I'm afraid that I would be a terrible role model for your son. I still do that "turn out the lights" trick. And you know what? It still cracks me up every time!

Posted by: MetroDad | August 29, 2006 at 07:28 AM