World’s Greatest Dad?…World’s Biggest Heel

It was a day I hoped would never come.

I’ve prided myself on being the cool calm collected one.

A dad so cool, the sun needs a sweater when it shines on me!

The dad who flows like water, who bends in the wind, goes with the flow and smells like teenspirit. (Wait…is that a cologne? I have no idea).

The kind of dad who exists only in family sitcoms. Loves his family, does crazy and outlandish things, quick with the funny remarks, dishes out sage worldly advice and never…ever…EVER…raises his voice in anger.

The kind of dad where Zen is my friend and karma is my confidanteė…

So, what went wrong?

To put it simply…

Daddy growled at me 😦

And boy, do I feel like the World’s Biggest Heel.

What would Chuck Norris do? Or better yet, what would Bill Cosby, Mike Brady or Alex P Keaton’s Dad, do?

Here’s the scene:

Baby’s so tired, he can hardly keep his little red eyes open, BUT…won’t have a bar of sleeping. Daddy Cool tries for 40 minutes to settle him off to sleep, all in vain. Baby then has poopy nappy. DC needs to change it and D-scovers a HUGE deposit in his Access account. Baby is still not happy and squirms all over the change table like a ninja playing laser-tag and as Daddy struggles with a handful of poop up to his elbow in one hand, baby decides to…crocodile death roll in his own poop and almost Nadia Comeneci it over the edge of the change table. At which point, Daddy Cool snapped…

STOP IT!

Indy froze and stared at me like a deer in headlights. His face, red with anguish and upset, eyes on the brink of dam-busting through glistening tears. He didn’t move a muscle and I could finish cleaning him up without a fuss.

And, I felt…ashamed and terrible.

Memories of me running into the middle of an argument between my parents and yelling out, “STOP IT!”, came suddenly flowing in.

And I can only imagine how he must have felt. The one man he relies on for laughs and tickles, for story book voices, for songs in the bath and whispers in his ears, suddenly went BOOM!

I cuddled him tight and apologised profusely. He seemed to accept it, but I feel like I dug a hole in my heart. I know he forgives me, but can I forgive myself?

Hopefully…

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Stand And Deliver

Brutally hard at work in my office (see: trolling through Facebook), my heart leapt to my throat when my lovely wife sent out a scream from the living room…

“Quick, to the batmobile…er, baby’s room!”

Batteries to power, turbines to speed, paternal instincts kicked into high gear! Nadia Comaneci’d it over my office chair, nabbed a cricket bat mid-flight, kicked the door open, wide-eyed and alert like Shaun of the Dead, ready to wail the willow over any would-be zombie assailant within 3 miles of my son.

Fully expecting our little bloke to be choking, something fallen on him, wrapped in a cord or going Mano-a-Mano with a giant lizard creature from the Gorn Hegemony (see: Star Trek: Kirk VS Gorn), preparing my best Charlton Heston impression…

“Get your filthy paws off him, you damn dirty ape!”

We stood in total disbelief at the sight that befell us…

There we were, eyeball to eyeball with a grinning little cherub, STANDING for the very first time in his cot. Having pulled himself up the bars on his own. His grin so wide, it pushed out two windows in his room and a look of accomplishment and satisfaction I haven’t seen since I heard we were having a boy.

Give me a heart attack next time, sheesh.

But mummy and I looked at each other and we both felt it…a disturbance in The Force. Our little baby is growing up. And like all good mystery suspense stories, it doesn’t stop there. For there is something else brewing, just under the surface. Waiting, biding its time to burst out and emerge from its little cocoon…

His first tooth.

Just below the surface, ready to pop any day now.

Oh my lord, it has begun…

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