Friday, July 30, 2004
The responsibilities of impending fatherhood are daunting, sometimes downright frightening, which lead to a myriad of questions and even more worry. It’s really just one big cycle of worry after worry. Will I be a good dad? Can we afford this? What if something goes wrong? Is the baby healthy? Will I have to go to water park?
Few things repulse me more than a water park. Actually, pretty much anything that attracts people for good old fashioned manufactured corporate fun disgusts me? But I could always avoid these with ease when I was single. Marriage certainly didn’t bring me into contact with these places, unless you count the Home Depot. But being a parent? I feel I may be doomed to episode of screaming kids, exposed bear bellies and chlorine soaked nachos. It’s a fate I’m not sure I’m ready to come to grips with yet.
But I’m going to have to because, well, kids love this shit. I know I did.
During on many trips to Cape Cod in my youthful years we would always pass this water park on our way to and from the Cape. My brother and I would always beg my parents to go there and they always said no. They give us a “maybe on the way home” and the subsequent “we’re too tired” when we headed home.
Year after to year it was the same thing until one year they finally gave in. And that must have been enough. But like time has a way of doing, I finally was able to gain some perspective. Why would any parent want to go to a water park other than to please their kid? I’m going to have to this some day.
Parenthood is definitely a weird cult. This much I’m already starting to realize. Kids love to have fun, at your expense. I guess this is what my parents always meant when they said they “sacrificed a lot for us kids.” As a parent, you have to subject yourself to the very happiest places on earth that marketing gurus drill into your kids heads. Am I ready for this?
I know it sounds stupid, but seriously, after watching family for years now, I vowed this would never be me. I always said I never wanted to have kids. That, of course, has changed, much to the chagrin of the 21-year-old version of me. But like the true PR professional I am, I’m trying to put a positive spin on this before my house becomes overrun with toys and I find myself in the same 15-year-old bathing suit with a plastic floatation device in on hand an a soggy corn dog in the other.
One of my best memories from my childhood was when my dad would get down in the dirt with my Tonka trucks and me. We would sit in the backyard and build roads and dams in the mud for hours. I remember my dad seeming like he was having the time of his life. I don’t doubt that he was. Because somehow, I think having a kid really allows you to get back in touch with your own childhood. I’m looking forward to that.
Those Tonka trucks are still in my parent’s basement and I am looking forward to dragging those out and reliving my childhood memories. If my child is anything like me, he or she will love those moments the most. That one on one time with your parent that will forever be engrained in their head. It’s obvious I need to not only live for those moments, but to utilize them to talk about the evil creatures that lurk in water parks around the world. I figure they’ll but this for at least seven year or so. By then, I should have done enough research to find the water parks that have an on-site bar.
Few things repulse me more than a water park. Actually, pretty much anything that attracts people for good old fashioned manufactured corporate fun disgusts me? But I could always avoid these with ease when I was single. Marriage certainly didn’t bring me into contact with these places, unless you count the Home Depot. But being a parent? I feel I may be doomed to episode of screaming kids, exposed bear bellies and chlorine soaked nachos. It’s a fate I’m not sure I’m ready to come to grips with yet.
But I’m going to have to because, well, kids love this shit. I know I did.
During on many trips to Cape Cod in my youthful years we would always pass this water park on our way to and from the Cape. My brother and I would always beg my parents to go there and they always said no. They give us a “maybe on the way home” and the subsequent “we’re too tired” when we headed home.
Year after to year it was the same thing until one year they finally gave in. And that must have been enough. But like time has a way of doing, I finally was able to gain some perspective. Why would any parent want to go to a water park other than to please their kid? I’m going to have to this some day.
Parenthood is definitely a weird cult. This much I’m already starting to realize. Kids love to have fun, at your expense. I guess this is what my parents always meant when they said they “sacrificed a lot for us kids.” As a parent, you have to subject yourself to the very happiest places on earth that marketing gurus drill into your kids heads. Am I ready for this?
I know it sounds stupid, but seriously, after watching family for years now, I vowed this would never be me. I always said I never wanted to have kids. That, of course, has changed, much to the chagrin of the 21-year-old version of me. But like the true PR professional I am, I’m trying to put a positive spin on this before my house becomes overrun with toys and I find myself in the same 15-year-old bathing suit with a plastic floatation device in on hand an a soggy corn dog in the other.
One of my best memories from my childhood was when my dad would get down in the dirt with my Tonka trucks and me. We would sit in the backyard and build roads and dams in the mud for hours. I remember my dad seeming like he was having the time of his life. I don’t doubt that he was. Because somehow, I think having a kid really allows you to get back in touch with your own childhood. I’m looking forward to that.
Those Tonka trucks are still in my parent’s basement and I am looking forward to dragging those out and reliving my childhood memories. If my child is anything like me, he or she will love those moments the most. That one on one time with your parent that will forever be engrained in their head. It’s obvious I need to not only live for those moments, but to utilize them to talk about the evil creatures that lurk in water parks around the world. I figure they’ll but this for at least seven year or so. By then, I should have done enough research to find the water parks that have an on-site bar.
