I’m a bad person…

…for a multitude of reasons! But, for now, we’ll cover the big one that’s been bugging me. With any luck, someone will read this, sympathize, and… well… I’ll save my secret, burning desire for later.

You won’t believe the thrilling conclusion!!

In the summer months, which is right now, I’m essentially a single father. To a large degree, this is me being a pussy and not admitting that it’s really time to stop playing video games, reading, doing crossword puzzles, brewing beer, hanging out with friends, doing anything independently during the day, or do anything but live for my child and to keep the house in decent order. Immature, right? However, it totally takes it’s toll, regardless of the fact that it’s really only two months of one year (and not even that, when you factor in vacations… more on those “vacations” another time, perhaps). So, yeah, I can admit that I’m being  a bad person for feeling resentment (hence the title of this post). I should say that my darling wife does come home at night and, more or less, take over the watching / playing with of the boy… so I can cook dinner or do dishes or spray weeds or whatever the hell else needs doing. I know this is the providence of most grown folks, especially parents, but I’ve already admitted that I’m in denial about that, so GET OFF MY BACK.

So we get back to that age-old sentiment from parents that is so cliched it’s actually been made fun of by contemporary comedians (fuck you very much, David Cross). That sentiment being: my child is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me; MAKE IT STOP.

The legend.

Kids are a blessing and a curse and, (again, another reminder of what a total baby I’m being about this) I’m often told they get harder to deal with, especially the more you have. I’m not saying I’d do things differently if I could live my life again, because, thanks to evolution and whathaveyou, I’m now chemically wired to love him more than anything else, lay down my life for him, be possessed of infinite patience for him, and give him my food, sleep, energy, etc…. BUT MAKE IT STOP!!


Obviously, I can’t be the first parent to feel this way. I mean, really, I think it’s insane if you aren’t a little bitter about your loss of freedom. I went from doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and I was the only one who had to deal with the consequences, to now almost all of my actions will, in some manner, impact my son and potentially piss off my wife. How does our race continue?! I’m simply amazed we don’t lose half of our population on America’s complex-yet-convenient highway system, but am even more astounded that we continue to have children.

I guess the obvious answer is something I previously alluded to: evolution and the imperative to pass on your seed, continue your bloodline, survive. Evolution ignores the fact that the world is full of exciting and terrifying things, such as pollution, rape, murder, Netflix, and the upcoming war for potable water (you’ll want to grab some popcorn for that one, because shit’s going to get real), although it did provide us with Godzilla, Cthulu and bottomless champagne brunches.

Stupid evolution…

Maybe us parents are the altruistic types who (at least periodically) believe that it’s more important to contribute to something bigger and more important than just yourself (yeah, I just called you out, voluntarily single people!).


I don’t have an answer to it. I’m barely able to wrap my mind around the concept. I will end with this, my secret, burning desire: validation. If you’re frustrated (more often than you’re probably willing to admit verbally, thanks to shaming by society), give this guy a high five or something. Sheeyit.



























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