My Sunday with Dad (Anyone have an extra helmet?)
Hey world, I'm back and I'm in need. Does anyone have a helmet and body armor fit for a 5 month old? It's an emergency- my life is in danger.This past Sunday, for three plus hours I was under the care of someone who can be best described at a blind lumberjack without a cane. This man, also known as my father, rumbled through the house while unintentionally playing chicken with my skull. You see, as he moseys along to his next distraction, Mr. Coordinated, i.e my father, tromps upstairs and through doorways without a care in the world. Meanwhile, my head and body narrowly miss taking on the role of a stunt double in the in the last scene of the film Titanic.
Now, let me make something very clear, it's not like I don’t try to do everything in my power to anchor my father. After all, I am my mother’s son as well as my Uncle Alex’s nephew… I am clever and never wrong. Case in point, the moment I awoke I dropped a bomb that would make Dr. Robert Oppenheimer proud. Seriously, this thing had a mushroom cloud that was visible from far beyond the confines of Diaper City. And, while Dad was mopping up this mess, I doused him with a stream golden goodness that would make a 49n'er go diving for gold. Do you think "You got to be f'n kidding me" is today's way of staying "Eureka, were rich!"? Anyhow, between the bomb and the golden standard of facial cleanses, Dad was fully occupied for a good 20 minutes. Yet, like all good sessions of basking on the changing table do, it came to an end. This time, with my father deciding it was time to take a little stroll.
Like I asked earlier, anyone got a helmet? I kid you not, going on this walk with my Dad was the equivalent of playing the video game Frogger, except the stroller embodied the frog and my Dad was the joystick. That guy bypasses stop signs, plays 'stroller hopscotch' between sidewalk and the street and... that not even the worse part! When people honk, he waves at them like their saying hi. Well that was until some polite, forward thinking gentleman yelled, "Hey ass hole, it's a fucking street, not your personal pedestrian walkway." Don't worry, Dad just waved, smiled and then....just kept walking.
Oh, by the way, it was on this so-called morning stroll that Captain Oblivious chose to make use of his time by practicing Spanish. That's right, ear budded and unaware, my father butchered the Spanish language; while at the same time trying to control our spastic dog with one hand and guide the stroller with the other. Traffic accident here we come!
If my Dad speaking Spanish to himself is not embarrassing enough, he concluded our walk with a solo performance of Taylor Swift's “Shake It Off”. Yup, you want misery, just think, my father, his voice, mumbled Spanish and Taylor Swift… Try to shake than mental image off.
Anyhow, after our walk, Dad spent the next two hours venting to me about how some fantasy team of his blows. Why the hell would I care about some stupid fantasy of my father? Is he serious? That’s right Dad, brilliant idea. Let’s spend our Sunday glaring at a computer screen, cheering for players who beat their wives and call it fantasy. Seriously, again, does anyone have a helmet? I need to cover my ears.
It should be noted, that given my displeasure for my father’s piss poor priority list, I screamed for the majority of those last two hours. Finally, Mom came home and life returned to normal. She fed me. I napped. And when Dad went off to watch football, wearing some of the ugliest orange and blue anyone has laid eyes on; Mom and I took another walk. This time, no helmet was needed, as like all of our daily walks, I simply listened to Mom as she vents about my father. I tell you, it is music to my ears.. father's these days.
Anyhow, if you have a helmet, please let me know.
Anderson (The Main Man) Ridder
Hey world, I'm back and I'm in need. Does anyone have a helmet and body armor fit for a 5 month old? It's an emergency- my life is in danger.This past Sunday, for three plus hours I was under the care of someone who can be best described at a blind lumberjack without a cane. This man, also known as my father, rumbled through the house while unintentionally playing chicken with my skull. You see, as he moseys along to his next distraction, Mr. Coordinated, i.e my father, tromps upstairs and through doorways without a care in the world. Meanwhile, my head and body narrowly miss taking on the role of a stunt double in the in the last scene of the film Titanic.
Now, let me make something very clear, it's not like I don’t try to do everything in my power to anchor my father. After all, I am my mother’s son as well as my Uncle Alex’s nephew… I am clever and never wrong. Case in point, the moment I awoke I dropped a bomb that would make Dr. Robert Oppenheimer proud. Seriously, this thing had a mushroom cloud that was visible from far beyond the confines of Diaper City. And, while Dad was mopping up this mess, I doused him with a stream golden goodness that would make a 49n'er go diving for gold. Do you think "You got to be f'n kidding me" is today's way of staying "Eureka, were rich!"? Anyhow, between the bomb and the golden standard of facial cleanses, Dad was fully occupied for a good 20 minutes. Yet, like all good sessions of basking on the changing table do, it came to an end. This time, with my father deciding it was time to take a little stroll.
Like I asked earlier, anyone got a helmet? I kid you not, going on this walk with my Dad was the equivalent of playing the video game Frogger, except the stroller embodied the frog and my Dad was the joystick. That guy bypasses stop signs, plays 'stroller hopscotch' between sidewalk and the street and... that not even the worse part! When people honk, he waves at them like their saying hi. Well that was until some polite, forward thinking gentleman yelled, "Hey ass hole, it's a fucking street, not your personal pedestrian walkway." Don't worry, Dad just waved, smiled and then....just kept walking.
Oh, by the way, it was on this so-called morning stroll that Captain Oblivious chose to make use of his time by practicing Spanish. That's right, ear budded and unaware, my father butchered the Spanish language; while at the same time trying to control our spastic dog with one hand and guide the stroller with the other. Traffic accident here we come!
If my Dad speaking Spanish to himself is not embarrassing enough, he concluded our walk with a solo performance of Taylor Swift's “Shake It Off”. Yup, you want misery, just think, my father, his voice, mumbled Spanish and Taylor Swift… Try to shake than mental image off.
Anyhow, after our walk, Dad spent the next two hours venting to me about how some fantasy team of his blows. Why the hell would I care about some stupid fantasy of my father? Is he serious? That’s right Dad, brilliant idea. Let’s spend our Sunday glaring at a computer screen, cheering for players who beat their wives and call it fantasy. Seriously, again, does anyone have a helmet? I need to cover my ears.
It should be noted, that given my displeasure for my father’s piss poor priority list, I screamed for the majority of those last two hours. Finally, Mom came home and life returned to normal. She fed me. I napped. And when Dad went off to watch football, wearing some of the ugliest orange and blue anyone has laid eyes on; Mom and I took another walk. This time, no helmet was needed, as like all of our daily walks, I simply listened to Mom as she vents about my father. I tell you, it is music to my ears.. father's these days.
Anyhow, if you have a helmet, please let me know.
Anderson (The Main Man) Ridder
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