There have been certain moments in my life that I feel have served as solid “Parent Preparation.” Whether it be waking up in the middle of the night to let sweet little Sammy out or taking Sammy for a walk, feeding him and playing with him and then 1p.m. rolls around and I think to myself (🎵what a wonderful world🎵) “Have I eaten yet today?” And not that you asked or want to know, but I have also had to cut poop out of his fur and I figure anything poop related gives you “parent points.”
I was watching an XFL game between the St. Louis Battlehawks and the Seattle Dragons. Any time someone made a great catch, run or solid play on defense, I couldn’t help but express the kind of artificially inflated enthusiasm one must have that first time that their child shows them an epileptic episode of abstract art and says “I drew a picture of the family out in front of the house, what do you think?” And I gotta be honest, right now I don’t think I have it in me to not be like “Listen Marky Jr., Daddy is gonna tell you the truth. I have been to art museums in Madrid and what I am looking at right now is not worthy to hang as a restroom sign in that building.” Only in the case of the XFL and what is an eventual scenario I should probably prepare myself for, all of my “children” could definitely knock me down with as little as an excessive exhale.
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