Everyone jokes about the Superman-like abilities you get when you become a parent. Well, this is no joke. I’m about to unleash upon you the three most incredible things I’m now able to do, simply because I’m a father.
1) I’m Invincible
The first time your kid uses your ball-sack as a stepping stool to launch himself over the back of the couch, you gain this trait. It takes about 20 good kicks, punches and heavy toys to the onions in order to condition yourself. And there’s that one day that somehow your kid wings a toy at you while you’re sleeping on the couch, and because of your loose basketball shorts, you have to actually (slowly) pull your testicle out of a toy bus window. This happens more frequently than you could ever know.
So you get this conditioning, and it’s not just groin-centric. You are now The Father. You can scoop up your kid with one arm from a fully-upright standing position the second he or she starts testing you. And as you carry them to your naughty-area-of-choice, he or she will pinch the crap out of your neck, bite your shoulders, kick you in the throat, pull your hair, scratch your face, and in-general, make you want to go nuclear on them.
Yet somehow, being a father, you remain stone-faced. You whip them down on that naughty-chair with so much force that not only is the kid stunned into suspended animation for a moment, but that all other surrounding people can feel the shockwave rippling through the room, messing up women’s hair and knocking over people’s drinks. And somehow, in accordance with Child Protective Services handbook rules, you don’t leave a mark, so aside from your child’s reduction to a quietly-sniveling pile of “I’m sorrys,” there’s no evidence that you just turned into Collosus.
This extends to all situations where your child is present. While your child’s watching, you can take a punch to the face without flinching. You can crush anything with your bare hands. You could, if given the right concealed movie magic, lift a car. But you know the old question, “if a tree falls in the forest, and no one’s there to hear it, does it make a sound?” If your child is not there to see it, then you’d better be prepared to go down hard. The second your kid leaves the room, you’re human again, and if someone kicks you in the junk, you’re going to pancake and cry it out for an h