Dad Has Two Heart Attacks, Or, Why Kids Shouldn't Watch "SuperWhy"

That's it, the experiment is over, I throw in the towel. Dads are simply not emotionally equipped to deal with the duties of motherhood. Call me a misogynistic S.O.B.; call me a cave-man, knuckle-dragging, hair-pulling chauvinist pig. I don't care.

Men CANNOT be the primary caregivers for children over any lengthy period of time. We simply lack the magic. And the iron will.

Let me explain.

It's Wednesday today, and that means baking. I'm planning on gingerbread houses from a cheap kit we got at walmart. Since Uncle C has the day off for bereavement time, I told him to sleep in and then bring the kids over anyway and take a little time off for himself this afternoon. Motor usually comes over around 9:30 or 10.

Well I figured that this meant once I got the Boss and the girls shipped off, I could go down and grab a quick shower before the usual Wednesday chaos erupted. Now I can't leave Squizzles with Peff, especially when Peff is "Bunny hunting" (He loves to play "Raving Rabbids" on the XBOX). So I grab Squizzle and tell Peff that I'll be in the shower should Uncle C or Aunt S arrive early.

I put Squizzle on the bed with a bottle and hopped in the shower. About three tenths of a second later, I had my first heart attack of the morning. The Boss, a thousand blessings be upon her, has one really rotten trick she likes to pull on me. She waits until I get in the shower and then sneaks in and pulls the curtain back ala "Psycho", scaring the he!! out of me. She has done it repeatedly for years and I never see it coming and she never stops laughing about it.

Squizzles, it would seem, has developed his mother's twisted sense of humor. He climbed off the bed (a very recent trick he learned), crawled to the bathroom door, pushed it all the way open and invited himself over to the tub. He then proceeded to play peek-a-boo with an unsuspecting Daddy. When the curtain snapped back, I jumped (and I mean physically JUMPED) around and saw nothing. Until I looked down at an obviously pleased Squizzle. Not how I planned to start the morning, but nothing compared to where it was going.

After a minute long battle of shower curtain tug-o-war with Squizzles, I gave up on the shower and got dressed. Just as I was putting my shoes on, I hear a knock at the bedroom door. I figured Uncle C must have arrived. I opened the door and found Peff standing there.

"Um, Dad?"

"Yes, son?"

"Can I, um, watch you pee?"

****We now turn to Dr. Snake Oil to explain the following .01 seconds in medical terminology...
"As you see here, the subject is a male in his mid thirties, non smoker and suffering from obesity, blindness and a mild form of psychosis. Otherwise in perfect health. If I may direct your attention to the Temporal Lobe of the brain (yes, that's it right there, the small portion of grey matter just to the front of the slowly spinning hamster wheel), you will see that the just received auditory stimulus has caused a chain reaction of sorts. The heart, under an instant and massive crushing force has slammed an immense volume of blood up the circulatory route to the Temporal Lobe and the resulting pressure has caused this major artery here to burst open like Andrew George in overtime. This has predicated a rare, simultaneous myocardial infarction and debilitating stroke. Massive paralysis has now engulfed the subject, terminating only when he can gather enough force of will to mumble weakly"....*****

"'scuse me?"

"I want to watch you pee. You know. The movie Mom got in Redbox last night. "U" "P".
You know dad, Up. The movie?"

"wow."

"Um, yeah, sure buddy. You go knock yourself out. I'm gonna lie down for a minute."


You see, Peff loves to watch Super Why on PBS. He has learned all his letters and the sounds they make. He has even started to put them together in words, which is pretty amazing. And because he is his father's son, he's also an unrepentant show-off. If he can read even a little bit, he likes to let you know by spelling whatever word he sees.

There is nothing so dangerous as a little knowledge. You pee. "U" "P". Up.

I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again,I can't make this stuff up. Holy Lord, I thought I was going to die. I still might. We men just aren't equipped to handle this kind of crap. And that is why I give "U" "P". I can't take it anymore.