I’m standing over my son’s bed, and I start crying. I think: he’s alive.
It’s a weird emotion for me. My wife and son were in a car accident today coming home from school. Everyone was okay. The car wasn’t. People lived, items didn’t. It worked out how it was supposed to. But my seven-year-old is scared. He’s waking up as soon as he falls asleep. He’s crying because he’s scared. “I want momma,” his voice cracks.
“Momma’s got to sleep too,” I answer. “She was also in the car accident and she’s hurt too. You both need to rest.”
When my wife texted me a photo of the box I’d received from Hasbro, I was hardly able to make it through my work day. I knew it had G.I. Joe toys in it, so I knew I’d be reliving my childhood that night alongside my son.
These G.I. Joe toys were sent to me by Hasbro because of the new G.I. Joe Retaliation movie that I’m honestly not at all interested in. But toys and nostalgia do it for me. After ripping open the cardboard box, I found a press release and all I read was “blah blah blah G.I. Joe blah blah blah.” And of course, as I skimmed the press materials, I sing-songed “G.I. JOEEEEEEEEEEEEE” a quarter million times, which annoyed my wife and thrilled my son.
What I love about playing with my son the most is that although I often act like a kid myself, I now lack the simple sensibilities that my son has. I get bent out of shape about adult things, like using toys “correctly” or risking breaking something. My son constantly reminds me how to play, and these G.I. Joe toys have helped me get back to my toy-playing roots.
“5 years ago, I was disowned via letter when I came out to my father. This is how hate sounds,” reads the title of RecBarc’s posting on Reddit. Readers get just that – a pencil-written letter from RegBarc’s (James’) dad, where he disowns his son simply for being gay.
This has gone viral, and picked up by news outlets, and even other dad bloggers. It’s such a powerful topic, and everyone’s got an opinion on it, including me. It got me thinking – what would I be writing to my embarrassed son the night that he came out to my wife and I?
“Move this damn car or else you’re gonna be sorry!”. An emotionally distraught old man got out of his car in the middle of traffic to yell this at me with my wife and 17-month-old daughter in the car. This happened yesterday and it made me think about what my threshold is for violence as a father and protector.
My wife and I had the day off when we decided to take our daughter for a car ride to run a few errands in the afternoon. For reasons unknown, it seemed that at every turn there was blocked lanes, road construction, and annoyed drivers. I don’t know if it was the rising price of gas ($4.30/gal where we are) or because Valentine’s Day just passed and now the love is gone so everyone has the power to act like a complete douchebag.
Our whole week was blocked lanes: it started with our taxes last weekend where we found out we made “too much money”, to our daughter’s second ear infection in three weeks – oh and the pharmacy we have been going to issued the wrong dosage per the doctor’s script. Thanks, Westlake Village Pharmacy. We won’t be going to you again since you can’t figure out the difference between teaspoons and milliliters. You could kill someone like that.
So we are driving at about 1:30pm on Friday, I exit an offramp and proceeded northbound on a busy road where traffic seemed to generate due to construction and a visible major accident in the upcoming intersection. About 30 seconds into our dead stop, I was ready to go into mushroom-cloud-laying motherf*cker mode.
Julie Germany at DCI Group put up a story about the rise of the “daddy blogger” – people like the fathers here at 8BitDad, who are quickly becoming a …