Paternity pains – ‘Someone Could Get Hurt’
Parenthood memoir offers plenty of laughs
We all have writers whose work we enjoy. Whether they are novelists, biographers, historians or bloggers, everyone who reads has writers who resonate with them for whatever reason. And if one of your favorites writes something new, you check it out … even if the subject matter isn’t necessarily what you would expect.
My familiarity with Drew Magary springs primarily from his columns on the sports blog Deadspin and to a lesser extent his work as a correspondent for GQ. One of Magary’s regular Deadspin features is a segment he calls “Dadspin,” in which he relates the trials and tribulations of parenthood in his own wildly funny and impeccably profane voice.
You, me, we?
Have you ever found yourself in a useless argument? Have you ever wondered why you're so upset you could easily tattoo your husband's forearm with something grotesque and still not feel better? Could it be that what burns your biscuit today would leave it only slightly toasted tomorrow?
Chances are we've all found ourselves in irrational disputes, and though we may legitimately believe that we are fighting for the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, we probably aren't in danger of losing our constitutional rights anytime soon. So why does it feel like every time we have a disagreement with those we love, life will never be the same again?
Anyone who has had kids knows you are basically trading in late mornings for the proper care and raising of the future of humanity. It’s not a bad trade-off in the long run, but it may seem like a steep price, especially at 6 a.m. on a Saturday after you stayed up a little too late watching “The Hobbit” the night before (yes, I’m still catching up on movies that debuted in 2012).
I admit it, I have singleton envy. Whenever I see some mom bopping down the road with a baby in a sling or one of those hands-free carriers, I feel a stab of white-hot envy. She’s being a good mom by taking her little one out into the world to learn and explore.
I usually see sights like this when I’m out by myself buying more groceries than I could scarcely imagine two years ago. A little human toddling between the hands of two happy parents as they shop for groceries. Two kids of various ages steering their racecar shopping cart powered by mom.
I'm going to admit something that I'm sure not many people would admit, publicly anyway. It's a truth that flies in the face of popular parenting lore, but a truth nonetheless: It's hard to play with your kids. I know, I know. No one should say this, especially not mothers who want to be seen as one woman theme parks. My theme park would be named “Crazy Mom Land.” There would be lots of bumper cars, batting cages and log flume rides with kids snacking on a bottomless supply of homemade chocolate chip banana bread, but I digress. Parents are supposed to love building sandcastles near doggie droppings. We're supposed to smile while whipping up batches of mud pies as our kids hold worms and say, “Look at him wiggle!” We're supposed to enjoy play time.
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