It happened last night. It was bound to happen at some point and time. I scorn your pity, and I don’t want your sympathy. I will not take your judgment. You have no right to judge me. You were not there; you do not know what was like. It was a war, and people do terrible things in war. It felt necessary at the time. Looking back with fresh eyes and 20/20 hindsight, it was not necessary nor even effective. It would be one thing if the ends justified the means, but they didn’t. The means were just a heinous means to no end. Oh, where do I begin……
It was Thursday evening when I started feeling sick. Wifey had to take on the parental duties solo, and with an aching back. Wifey’s back was injured birthing Little Man, and has not truly recovered since then. Cold weather also tends to cause her back problems, and it has finally decided to become cold in Ohio. My illness and her back did not make a great confluence of parenting ability for the weekend. Mine was a sort of feverish malaise that lets you know that it will be a very long weekend, and not in a good way. The fever and chills broke sometime in the wee hours of Friday morning only to be replaced by the multiple repetitive and redundant forced evacuation of my bowels. This too subsided by Friday evening. All I had to survive off of was 4 quarts of Gatorade and air. By Last night my energy reserves were depleted. Bah, there is no point for excuses. What I did was beyond reproach. Ah, but back to the way things led up to this unfortunate event. Saturday was a mixed day of Christmas shopping and recovery. Unfortunately more shopping than recovery. I had half a sandwich and some yogurt as my sustenance for the day, but I was plagued with nausea due to that pittance of nourishment. By Saturday afternoon, Little Man was sick with the same ague that I had fostered 2 nights previous. He was miserable, and I was less than energetic in my care for him. Before you judge me on this score, it was not for lack of want, but for lack of ability and energy did I not parent my child as ably as I wished. Wifey had an evening event that she had to be at, so Little Man was left alone with his weak and weary father as his only means of support, survival and, more importantly, entertainment.
Luckily, it seems that Little Man was able to fend off this mysterious virus better than myself and determined to wake up at 5:15 on Sunday Morning for the breakfast of KING! Since Wifey had worked keeping him asleep through the night, it was left up to me to explain the problem with Burger King at 5:45. Sadly, his relatively youthful age of 2.35 has limited his ability to understand the workings of time. I tried explaining to him that Burger King was not open at 5:45 and that they would not be serving his favorite of hamburgers and onion rings for at least 4 more hours. His grasp of time did not allow him to understand this fact and he was woefully saddened. Saddened to the point of screaming for 20 minutes straight bat the door asking for the “King,” his salvation from the tyranny of Papa, in weaker and weaker cries of anguish. The screaming was being replaced by sobbing, and there was nothing I could do for it. Beside myself, I tried to think of any place open at 7:00 that would sell hamburgers or French fries that we knew were allergen free. After a brief foray at Mimma’s house we decided on Steak & Shake. That place is open 24 hours, and sure to have French fries on hand for Little Man.
We drove up to the closest Steak & Shake, and I inquired about food allergens. The friendly staff referred us to their web-site, which they did not have handy, and we decided to chance it. We ordered our meal and I greedily consumed my burger while Little Man worked over his French fries. I polished off Wifey’s unfinished meal as well. I was ravenous. My lack of eating all weekend had finally caught up with me. Unfortunately my hunger awoke at one of the greasiest nastiest lard ridden meals I had ever seen, much less eaten, but I was hungry and it was “food.” A decision to be regretted later, to be sure. Little Man went down for his nap early and got up early as well.
It was time for the bedtime ritual. We were getting ready to rock his little butt to sleep, when the event happened. Little Man and I had just changed the CD in the CD Player from They Might Be Giants’ Bed Bed Bed to his “go to sleep now” CD Streams of Light by Martin & Scott. He wanted to change the CD again. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “I am not saying ‘No’ for my exercise!” Oh, the horror! Oh, the humanity! I have truly become a parent! And a cliché one at best.
There you have it. My unforgivable sin: I have uttered a parentism. I might as well have said, “Because I said so!” or “Money doesn’t grow on trees,” or any other phrase that we all promised never to utter as parents. Wifey made fun of me mercilessly. Not because I said it, but because I said it with such earnest conviction. I meant it.
To Recap
Don’t make me turn this car around!
Steak & Shake = grease & lard
I’m not talking to hear my own voice!
Little Man is starting to be afraid of sleeping alone it seems
Don’t make me count to 3!
Wifey’s first parental remark was not a true parentism, but that story is hers to share
What part of "NO!" did you not understand!
I am still weak and hungry
I brought you into this world, and I can take you out!
I'll give you something to cry about!
It was Thursday evening when I started feeling sick. Wifey had to take on the parental duties solo, and with an aching back. Wifey’s back was injured birthing Little Man, and has not truly recovered since then. Cold weather also tends to cause her back problems, and it has finally decided to become cold in Ohio. My illness and her back did not make a great confluence of parenting ability for the weekend. Mine was a sort of feverish malaise that lets you know that it will be a very long weekend, and not in a good way. The fever and chills broke sometime in the wee hours of Friday morning only to be replaced by the multiple repetitive and redundant forced evacuation of my bowels. This too subsided by Friday evening. All I had to survive off of was 4 quarts of Gatorade and air. By Last night my energy reserves were depleted. Bah, there is no point for excuses. What I did was beyond reproach. Ah, but back to the way things led up to this unfortunate event. Saturday was a mixed day of Christmas shopping and recovery. Unfortunately more shopping than recovery. I had half a sandwich and some yogurt as my sustenance for the day, but I was plagued with nausea due to that pittance of nourishment. By Saturday afternoon, Little Man was sick with the same ague that I had fostered 2 nights previous. He was miserable, and I was less than energetic in my care for him. Before you judge me on this score, it was not for lack of want, but for lack of ability and energy did I not parent my child as ably as I wished. Wifey had an evening event that she had to be at, so Little Man was left alone with his weak and weary father as his only means of support, survival and, more importantly, entertainment.
Luckily, it seems that Little Man was able to fend off this mysterious virus better than myself and determined to wake up at 5:15 on Sunday Morning for the breakfast of KING! Since Wifey had worked keeping him asleep through the night, it was left up to me to explain the problem with Burger King at 5:45. Sadly, his relatively youthful age of 2.35 has limited his ability to understand the workings of time. I tried explaining to him that Burger King was not open at 5:45 and that they would not be serving his favorite of hamburgers and onion rings for at least 4 more hours. His grasp of time did not allow him to understand this fact and he was woefully saddened. Saddened to the point of screaming for 20 minutes straight bat the door asking for the “King,” his salvation from the tyranny of Papa, in weaker and weaker cries of anguish. The screaming was being replaced by sobbing, and there was nothing I could do for it. Beside myself, I tried to think of any place open at 7:00 that would sell hamburgers or French fries that we knew were allergen free. After a brief foray at Mimma’s house we decided on Steak & Shake. That place is open 24 hours, and sure to have French fries on hand for Little Man.
We drove up to the closest Steak & Shake, and I inquired about food allergens. The friendly staff referred us to their web-site, which they did not have handy, and we decided to chance it. We ordered our meal and I greedily consumed my burger while Little Man worked over his French fries. I polished off Wifey’s unfinished meal as well. I was ravenous. My lack of eating all weekend had finally caught up with me. Unfortunately my hunger awoke at one of the greasiest nastiest lard ridden meals I had ever seen, much less eaten, but I was hungry and it was “food.” A decision to be regretted later, to be sure. Little Man went down for his nap early and got up early as well.
It was time for the bedtime ritual. We were getting ready to rock his little butt to sleep, when the event happened. Little Man and I had just changed the CD in the CD Player from They Might Be Giants’ Bed Bed Bed to his “go to sleep now” CD Streams of Light by Martin & Scott. He wanted to change the CD again. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “No.” He still wanted to change the CD. I said, “I am not saying ‘No’ for my exercise!” Oh, the horror! Oh, the humanity! I have truly become a parent! And a cliché one at best.
There you have it. My unforgivable sin: I have uttered a parentism. I might as well have said, “Because I said so!” or “Money doesn’t grow on trees,” or any other phrase that we all promised never to utter as parents. Wifey made fun of me mercilessly. Not because I said it, but because I said it with such earnest conviction. I meant it.
To Recap
Don’t make me turn this car around!
Steak & Shake = grease & lard
I’m not talking to hear my own voice!
Little Man is starting to be afraid of sleeping alone it seems
Don’t make me count to 3!
Wifey’s first parental remark was not a true parentism, but that story is hers to share
What part of "NO!" did you not understand!
I am still weak and hungry
I brought you into this world, and I can take you out!
I'll give you something to cry about!