I am the father of two kids under the age of two.
My sports illustrated has become a coloring book. The article with Brett Favre has been re-edited so that he is surrounded by Hot Pink Sunset and Purple Magic Marker.
Today I watched the rest of the Backyardigans episode without my daughter just so I could see if Pablo or Tyrone won the race around the world. Austin came from behind and I was happy for him.
My fever for cheering for my favorite football team has been replaced by me cheering my kids when they are about to figure something out. My son learned to roll from his stomach to his back yesterday and I was cheering like it was 4th and 1 with less than 2 seconds to play. I don’t mean after he did it. I mean when he was actually in the process of doing it. “Come on Bubba Hoss, let’s see some spirit. Kick that leg over and whip some ass!”
My meals now consist of at least one type of chicken nugget, macaroni and cheese or a hot dog. I have to taste each one because apparently my daughter thinks that they may be poisoned by the evil cat.
When I get drunk, which is rare, I now do it in private. I used to think that this was a sign of alcoholism. I have since come to understand that it’s a sign of a man with two kids who would not go to bed at the right time and god dammit I just need a beer.
I write with crayons. All the time.
My car holds a stroller, a baby bag, the houmoungus box of crayons that are no longer in the box, at least one magazine that my daughter likes to color on, 2 car seats, and I no longer get blow jobs on long car trips.
My outfits each day are classified as: 1. This one only has a little vomit on it. 2. This one has some vomit on it but I doubt anyone would notice and 3. This one has a lot of vomit on it but it’s less vomit than everything else.
I can only watch porn really, really late at night but I have given this up because the first time you hear a kid cry from their bedroom it ruins everything and I feel like a weirdo.
I alternate the songs on my radio from my heavy metal music to The Ants go Marching on and on.
My son has this internal clock that says “Hey, Dad and Mom are about to eat. It’s about time for me to scream my head off.” Fuck it, cold steak is still good steak.
My wife is breastfeeding our 2 month old son. I am no longer allowed to touch the boobies and I am sad. Yes, I blame him for this. When he is married I’m going to get my revenge by showing up unannounced with his mother and then have really loud sex on his living room couch in the middle of the night. Payback is a bitch.
I have, on occasion, drank out of sippy cups. Very handy.
Dora the Explorer judges my parenting style, I know it.
I have a daughter. I know that she will want to date one day. This worry has become all consuming.
The amount of tip that we leave at a restaurant is in direct proportion to how much food my daughter has flung off the table.
And also on that note: I no longer feel guilty if my daughter causes a scene in a restaurant that may annoy other patrons. She’s 2. Every meal is a scene and I ask that you just tune us out. I have stopped caring. I have now become “that” guy.
I touch other people’s poop at least 4 times a day. Every day. For the last 2 years.
I eat Cheerios as a snack. Without any milk. Just dry old boring Cheerios.
I teach my daughter how to say sports related things rather than useful things such as “There is a burglar in our house.” Instead, we say “Rock on.”
I. Love. Microwavable. Fishsticks.
Ketchup has replaced most of my daughters meals. Even if I smear it on something like a meat, she licks it off like ice-cream. I think this may be one of the grossest things I have ever witnessed.
I have not seen a movie in over 8 months. And when we rent movies, we can never find the time to actually watch them and end up turning them in late. Basically, I have to buy a movie that I will hate and watch it in bits and pieces over a 5 month period.
My daughter eats raw red peppers and spits half of them out. I count this as her vegetable for the afternoon.
I have a pretty good collection of tools in the garage but haven’t built anything in a very long time. However, I did use my sander to sharpen my daughters crayons. Honestly, I am quite impressed with myself.
My daughter has just learned to pick her nose. But instead of whipping it on the dog like a normal person she says “Here ya go” and gives the booger to me. I don’t realize what I have until it is to late.
I am the father of 2 kids under the age of 2 and I love it. Welcome to my life.