I initially had a different topic lined up for todays blog but todays events inspired me. Little Mitch, who’s three and a half, had his cousin over for a play date today. They were playing upstairs in his room when Little Mitch comes downstairs and tells me “Daddy I put a hole in the bed.” I run upstairs with both kids to see that the fruit of my loins crawled under our brand new still not paid off bed and put his foot through the bottom of the box spring.
‘Loins’, if ever a word needed a Renaissance this word is it. We need a “Loin Renaissance.” In fact I’m officially spearheading the “Bring Back Loins” cause. I’ll have coloured ribbons, walkathons, $250 a plate fund raisers, candlelight vigils, celebrity public service announcements (Hi, I’m Will Smith and it may shock you to know that some people live their entire life and never refer to their genitalia as ‘loins’. We can make a difference, please give).
Pretty soon you’ll be throwing “loins” into your dirty talk rotation when you’re getting freaky with your significant other. “You like that baby? You like them loins? Yeah, you take them loins you dirty girl.” No need to thank me, I’m an idea man, its what I do.
Back to the original point, I won’t bore you with the detail of how Little Mitch’s life almost ended today at the hands of his daddy but it did get me thinking. Before I officially became a father, when the Little Mitch was still ‘in the oven’, Mrs. Mitch made me go to the library and get some books about fatherhood. I think in total I read about five or six fatherhood books, compared to the 37 motherhood books Mrs. Mitch read. Most of the dad books were fairly practical and were about sleep deprivation, changing diapers, childhood illnesses, how to play with a baby etc. They covered the practical aspects of fatherhood. Now that I have a solid 3.5 years of fatherhood under my belt I’m going to teach you about the subjects of fatherhood those “Dad” books failed to mention.
Kids are destructive as hell. I was seriously not prepared for this. Little Mitch’s ability to break things accidentally or on purpose never fails to surprise me. The best part is when you ask him why he broke something he gives you this look that looks like a combination of confusion and that look you make in a crowded elevator when you’re trying to determine if someone just farted or you imagined it. Now here’s some sample responses as to why you never ask a 3.5 year old why they broke something, “Why did you break Daddy’s (fill in the blank)?:
“I don’t know.”
“I have testicles.”
“I had to.”
“Why doesn’t Mommy have a wiener?”
Anytime any friends of mine become pregnant, I like to lay one important warning on them. I was in no way shape or form prepared for this one. Sometimes pregnant women get horny. Really horny. Not every time and not every pregnant woman but it happened to Mrs. Mitch. I think it has to do with the hormones or the fact that being knocked up makes them feel all fertile and “Earth Mothery.” At first when Mrs. Mitch was still early in the pregnancy we had no issues I could still “get it on” with my lady.
As the pregnancy progressed though I made less “how you doin'” moves on Mrs. Mitch, eventually I stopped initiating anything whatsoever. Now you have to understand I like to think of myself as a passionate man with a very healthy sex drive, very very healthy. To quote Mrs. Mitch “I damn near had to jump you to do it when I was pregnant, you wouldn’t touch me.” One fateful night “Minimitch” couldn’t get his game on, nothing, nope, windsock. Like trying to squish a marshmallow in a piggy bank. First time EVER in 10 years of being together. You can imagine how well this went over with a pregnant hormonal wife who’s not feeling sexy because of the pregnancy weight gain.
Now its not that I didn’t find my pregnant wife beautiful, or attractive anymore. It’s just that I never categorized pregnant women as sexual beings, and therefore in my thinking pregnant women didn’t have sex. I just never thought of them that way, much in the same way I never thought of 90 year old women, cheese, fence posts, or my parents as things that have sex.
I can blame some of this on some bad advice I received from my meat cutting days. I was in my twenties working with a bunch of meat cutters in their 30’s and 40’s and I remember them telling me about what happens to sex once your wife becomes pregnant. I was told that “once they get pregnant, forget it you’re never getting it again, they got the kid they wanted.” I was also told “she won’t let you touch her so don’t try.” Things along those lines, now that I think about it though most of these meat cutters had alcohol, drug, and depression problems and I think most of them ended up divorced. So theres a good indicator of how good that advice was.
So in sum, kids will break your stuff, and pregnant chicks like to get freaky. No need to thank me I’m an idea man it’s what I do.