A Parent Chaos: Don't Ask, Don't Tell

If you couldn't tell by my previous posts, I'm a big pet peeve guy. In short, I'm easily annoyable. But since I became a dad, the tolerance for those annoyances has decreased by no less than 45%. That's almost 50%! Aside from the obvious struggles that you face as a parent (maintaining nap schedules, staying relevant to your non-parent friends, shitting without interruption), there are certain things people will insist on telling or asking you. Every one of them eats away at my spirit in a special and unique way. Let's get to them.

* Is he walking yet?

He's two and a half, you dolt. He's been walking for like 700 straight days, at least five of them being with you. He probably finished ahead of you in the NYC marathon. He can do the moonwalk and cartwheels. Thanks for fucking noticing.

* Sleep when the baby sleeps!

People will tell you this like it's some kind of sage advice. They'll say something like, "Keeping up with the baby making you tired? Just sleep when the baby sleeps!" Oh, you mean when I actually have precious minutes to myself without a child screaming into my ear? That time is reserved for preparing dinner, catching up on DVR so you're less than 90% full, quick emotionless sex, and just staring blankly at the wall wondering what to do with yourself. If there's time after all that, then maybe I'll sleep. But those other things just seem so much more important to accomplish.


* Enjoy every minute; it goes by so fast!

Oh Christ, talk about a tall order. Every minute? Sometimes they pee in your face when you're changing their diaper. You try enjoying every minute of THAT. And it goes by so fast? Thanks for the warning, Father Time, but I'm pretty sure the clock runs at the same speed regardless of my enjoyment levels.

* I'm so tired from all the orgies and partying I partook in until 3 am last night.

If you don't feel sympathy after hearing about my late-night struggles with Antonio because he woke up projectile vomiting all over my Led Zeppelin t-shirt, you certainly cannot expect my sympathy because you're tired from doing blow with Skeet Ulrich on a school night. As a parent, there is nothing more infuriating than hearing a kid-less friend complain of exhaustion from too much fun.

* Wow! He's such a big baby!

So, my kid's fat. That's what you're saying. Got it. This is acceptable I guess before the child turns one. But after that, you're just rubbing it in. At that point, I'm already aware that my offspring needs to be put on the South Beach Diet. And by the way, you're a fatty too.

This isn't my son. I just googled "Fat Baby + Weird"

* Is it a boy or a girl?

It's wearing a green onesie, a Jets football jersey, a beer helmet, and it has a crew cut and a mustache. It's a boy.


Try not to think I'm a huge jerk for listing these quotes, as I'm sure everyone reading has said at least one of them before. And I suppose it's human nature to spout out a cliche every now and then. But that doesn't mean I have to like it. By the way, if you re-read this and pretend I was talking about a pet snake, it's even better.

Till next time, be strong and stay sane. And share this with someone who can relate!

-Joe DeProspero
jdeprospero@gmail.com
My Podcast: www.courtesyflush.podomatic.com