And It’s Official

We knew it was coming.

We just didn’t know when.

And to be honest it’s almost completely our fault. We’ve set a terrible example by how we act and what we talk about in front of our children.

Well, that and genetics.

See, my wife and I, we… Well… We found out that my oldest son is a full fledge geekling.

We were hoping it would stay at the level where he was just a little spazzy and really, really enthusiastic about math and video games… and some comics… and Star Wars…  and sometimes he quotes Doctor Who…, but we got the results of a school administered eye exam this week and it appears he’s getting glasses for his eighth birthday. Possibly thick ones.

He also recently started needing an inhaler because of allergy induced asthma.

And he seems to be really bad at sports. But that’s not a big surprise because he’s very small for his age and kind of uncoordinated…

Man am I glad geek culture is cool now.

 

 

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Mother’s Day And The Stay-at-home Father

First, I want to begin by saying that I feel that all “holidays” like Mother’s Day, Father’s Day and Valentine’s are nothing but elaborate ruses created by card companies to separate suckers from their money.

Second, I’m the only person in my marriage that feels this way so my opinion on the subject means nothing.

Third, as a stay-at-home father, I get the short end of the stick when it comes to these type of made-up holidays.

The average working father can get away with cooking a nice meal for the mother of his children or maybe letting her lounge around the house while he takes care of the everyday domestic duties.

“No honey, you sit and relax today. I’ll take care of all the things you take care of every other day. Here’s a cup of tea.”

Stay-at-home fathers can’t get away with this. We cook most of the meals and do most of the house work anyway. If we tried the “sit back and take it easy today” approach it’d be even more of a cheat of a present than it is when the working father tries to pull it off.

“No honey, you sit back while I have an average day. Here’s a cup of tea.”

It just doesn’t have the same amount of oomph to it. And we’re not British so I don’t know why I keep offering tea…

All of this means that the stay-at-home father has to try twice as hard on Mother’s Day to make it special and having to try hard on a pretend holiday sucks.

Luckily for me though I do have one cheat: this blog. See, I have a way of publicly expressing the love and appreciation I feel for my wife which will seem sweet, thoughtful and like it took some sort of effort. So here it goes:

To my wife,

You are the most wonderful mother our children could have asked for. Every day I wake up thankful that you’re my partner and that I had the honor of knocking you up so many times. Life would suck without you and I love you more than you could know.

Yep. That should work…

Well, Ummm?… Yeah… Uh…

Sometimes children ask awkward questions. As a parent I’m use to coming up with answers to these questions though I will admit that if the question is overly embarrassing or if the child asking the question isn’t old enough to handle the truth I’ll answer with the most technical language I can muster so as to baffle the poor child’s mind, or I make something up. Mostly I make something up…

Anyway, yesterday I heard a plaintive cry for help coming from my wife who was in the bedroom with our four year-old, Demon Spawn.

“What? What is it?” I asked as I walked in. The first thing I noticed as I looked around was the panic-stricken look on my poor wife’s face.

“He wants to know what a vagina looks like,” she nodded at Demon Spawn, who was sitting quietly awaiting the answer.

“Whoa! Why did you call for me?!?! You’re the one that has one!”

“Well I’m not going to show him mine!”

“I’m not saying that, it’s just you… You know. It’s your part. You’re more… I mean, you’ve got the…” I’ve never pointed at my wife’s crotch that much in a single sitting before and I probably never will again.

“I don’t sit around looking at it! And you’ve seen more of them than I have!”

“I don’t know what you think my sex life was…”

“No! I mean porn!”

“What’s pone?”

NOTHING!” my wife and I screamed at the same time.

We both looked over at Demon Spawn who was visibly swelling from the energy produced from the chaos he caused.

I took a deep breath, calmed my nerves and tried to answer, “Well buddy, a va… a vagina…” I could feel the collective disappointment of every feminist in the world as I said “vagina” as if it was the dirtiest of all dirty words. “It looks like…,” and again the disappointment as I realized any and every description of a vagina that came to mind was from filthy jokes I’ve heard while fishing/hunting/working construction/ect.. “Sweetie?”

Nothing but a wide-eyed shake of the head from that direction.

“Well, uh… Did Momma tell you we’re going bowling tomorrow after I cut the grass? And to the park!”

“We’re going bowling?!?!?”

“Yeah! Bowling!”

“Yay!” and he ran out the room.

“So,” my wife looked at me. “We’re going bowling tomorrow?”

“Yep, that’s what it looks like.”