Already I’m making my first veer away from craftsmanship. Toonces, no! (For anyone who doesn’t know who Toonces is, shame on you! Of course, in twenty years, this will be like not knowing who the Katzenjammer Kids are today. Go on, Google it.)
[clears throat]. So what’s the deal with parents? Huh? [crickets chirp]
As I’ve become a parent, through the birth of 1 (one) offspring, I’ve still never thought of myself as a Parent. Parents are those weird people who go to PTA meetings, drive minivans with twelve thousand cupholders, wear sweatpants because they just didn’t have the time to get all dressed up, and whose houses look like they were hit with a Fisher Price cluster bomb. I have more than once referred to parents as “those people” when talking to my wife.
Ex: “Those people have subscriptions to Cricket magazine and license plates like ‘iluvmykidz’.”
Response: “That’s too many letters.”
Me: [face grows purple].
I have glanced through parenting magazines that we got in a goody bag from the hospital when we brought home our offspring. (Note to hospitals: please include earplugs in these bags. Much more useful than formula coupons.) These mags show wholesome people doing enriching things with beautiful model children. As brand-new parents, we had a mewling pink raisin in the carseat.
Me: “Why do I need to read about jungle gym safety and Snak-Pak comparison charts?”
Wife: “I want sushi. Now”
For those people, i.e. parents, you obviously know that pregnant women can’t eat sushi. What a funny joke! For everyone else, pregnant women can’t eat sushi, so the above dialogue was funny. You may now laugh.
Even after a year, I still haven’t changed my license plate or traded in my VW for a KidSchlepper LXi. Although, to my shame, offspring’s carseat has a cupholder. But come on, she’d spill her beer if she had to hold it the whole time.
Writer, architect, father, husband.
[isto é bom]
A katzenjammer is a hangover. Fitting. Wait a second, sweatpants aren't dressy?
[ciò è buono]