What I’ve Learned About Dadding.

Being a dad isn’t as difficult as, say, stopping a cannonball with your chest. That’s not to say that cannonballs hurled at great velocity are simple to stop with your chest but being that I’ve never tried it, it seems at least by the photographic evidence I’ve seen to be an incredibly dangerous and stupid pursuit. Not like raising a baby at all.

Where was I?

Babies. Oh, yes. I have learned a lot about myself in my role as father. First, I’m way more patient about handling other people’s fecal matter than I used to be. Not that I used to handle other people’s fecal matter, but I assume that had I been assigned the task of handling others’ feces, I wouldn’t have been very accommodating. Not like now. Now, I have to put up with it, green peas and all. It’s not that bad if you’ve practiced not breathing.

Second, child care is not as difficult as other parents make it out to be. For example, I recently learned that if you keep your child away from your hair, ear piercings, lips, eyeballs, earholes, did I say hair, any part of your anatomy that won’t hurt when yanked wildly, why babies can be extremely delightful.

Third, babies should never be allowed to serve as designated drivers, no matter how sleep deprived they make you. Babies don’t like to sleep when you’re sleeping. It is a matter of primitive programming where babies in the outside living days would stay awake at night to fend off sabretooth tiger attacks or the occasional t-rex.

Forth, I’ve learned that books on parenting are a big help. We bought approximately 152 of them before Michelle’s delivery. Once stacked neatly next to the table, they serve as a functional, albeit sometimes unstable, high chair.

This is what I’ve learned so far.

8 months ago  /  12 notes