Dad Is Fat (10 page)

Of course, we’ve tried to stop her from sucking her thumb. We put some nasty goo on her thumb that she quickly got used to. She found a way to wipe it off and sucked the thumb with
twice the vigor. We tried telling her to stop sucking her thumb because she was a big kid now, but that only made it more special and prompted Katie to do the double-handed thumb suck. She holds a protective hand over the hand that has the thumb being sucked. With the double-handed thumb suck, she still only sucks on one thumb, but it looks like she’s playing a tiny harmonica. She then proceeds to hum quietly to herself as if to express her contentment with her thumb. We call this the thumb hum. At this point, I’m tempted to tell her to just start a toddler folk band.

Now that we have a new baby, we have been advised by our pediatrician that “she’s only three” and to just let her suck her thumb so she can decide on her own when to quit. I wanted to put her on that thumb replacement patch but Jeannie said we should wait until she is four. Everyone knows that a thumb sucker at age four is destined for prison.

Toddlers are too cute to punish. They get let off so easy. They can behave abominably, but what’s the worst thing that can happen to them? A time-out? Big deal. All I want to do is take a time-out. I was recently watching a football game with Katie, and the announcer said, “The Jets have asked for a time-out.” Katie saw the quarterback talking to the coach and asked, “Why did he get a time-out?” I thought for a second and then just said, “Because he didn’t listen to his daddy.”

You don’t have to worry about anything as a toddler. You don’t get punished, everyone spoils you, and you have no job. You are treated like a king. I always say to my toddlers, “Enjoy it while it lasts! It’s all downhill from here.”

The more I’m around young children, the more I realize we are all just giant toddlers. I think we are always unconsciously
seeking to return to our early childhood. This is why we go to bars. Now that I have little children, going to a bar is a completely different observational experience. Many bars have a dartboard, a pool table, and various board games. There is music, dancing, and singing along to karaoke. There are Jell-O shots, for God’s sake. Think of the last two times you had Jell-O. When you were three and when you were in that bar in Florida for spring break. Have you ever turned off the lights in a room filled with children? They immediately start screaming and acting insane. Is it merely a coincidence that lights are so low in bars? It’s just a license for adults to misbehave.

We go to bars so we can behave like children, toddlers, really. Have you been to a bar at two in the morning? You might as well be picking up a kid at nursery school. It’s the same experience. The behavior’s the same. In both places, there’s always some strange yelling for no reason at all, “Whooo hooo! Wheeee!” or someone climbing up on a table and getting into trouble with the authorities. In both places, people break into song: “Sweet Ca-ro-line, Oh oh ohhh! Everybody! Oh oh ooo, Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-OH!” You go into the bathroom at the bar and it’s obvious some people aren’t potty trained. In both places, there’s usually someone crying, “She was my best friend! But not anymore! I want my mommy.” Occasionally, a fight will break out: “He was standing where I wanted to stand. So I punched him in the head. I want more juice.” Nursery schools and bars at 2 a.m. are the only places where it is completely normal if someone just spontaneously throws up on the floor … and just like a toddler, the bar patron wakes up the next day not remembering or caring how they behaved.

Because I have children, I wash my hands. Of course, prior to children, I washed my hands, but now I
really
wash my hands. Surgeons would be impressed. I don’t want you to think I’m a germophobe. I’m not at all. I’m just terrified of germs.

It begins when you become a parent. You wash your hands to protect your precious newborn from germs; then you wash your hands to protect yourself because little kids are walking petri dishes of different viruses. The only thing weaker than a toddler’s handshake is their immune system.

Toddlers are a virus’s best friend. Viruses are usually spread by close contact and saliva. If you look up the definition of
toddler
, the first thing it should say is “close contact and saliva.” Toddlers are always the contagion. Our home becomes the CDC every winter. Jeannie is obsessed with having a clean house, but our kids bring home viruses like they are collecting them. The virus will go around the family, taking its sweet
time. Taunting us: “Oh, you think I’m done? Hardly. Just got my second wind. I’m taking another lap.”

You don’t have to be a research scientist to figure out the origin of these virulent epidemics. They come from an experimental breeding ground specializing in the manufacture and mass dissemination of disease known as “the nursery school.”

Picture an incubator filled with little germ-infested creatures crawling all over one another drooling and sneezing with their mouths open. Then draw them all into a tiny section of the incubator to use the “potty” and instruct them all to “wash their hands.” Then have each one of them turn on the faucet with their well-traveled little fingers that each harbor a multitude of secrets; run them for half a second under icy water that serves as a refreshing drink to the busy bacteria who live and work on said fingers; then make sure the faucet is turned off with the same fingers that turned it on so any of the viruses and bacteria that may have taken a rest stop on that faucet handle can hop back on their tiny finger chariots to fulfill their manifest destiny. One last stop at the towel that everyone has wiped his or her hands and/or noses on, and a whole new generation of infectious disease has been born.

Did I mention “incurable”? There is nothing that you can do to prevent or cure these bugs that hit your family. Maybe with the first kid you will run to the doctor, but after that you know better. If you are dumb like me, you will be surprised to discover that antibiotics do not work on viruses. Turns out bacteria and viruses are totally different. They are not even distant cousins. No wonder I didn’t get into medical school. I mean I
didn’t try to get into medical school, but if I did, I totally would have failed that question on the medical school test.

Your kid’s doctor will always give you the same advice about the virus: “You have to let it take its course.” In other words, “There’s nothing we can do.” So you return home to your flimsy bomb shelter totally vulnerable. Just waiting for the next inevitable attack.

I don’t want to give the terrorists any ideas, but if I really wanted to cripple a city with biological warfare, my WMD of choice would have to be the toddler.

I like to think of myself as a relatively honest person. It’s usually just easier to be honest. However, the complexity of parenting leads you to lie to your children. Honestly, I’m shocked how often I lie to my children. Cute sentence, right? Maybe they aren’t all lies. I suppose some of it is just dishonesty. Some of it’s acting. Being a parent to a young child is being an actor. I’ve been lucky enough to act in movies, TV, and on Broadway, but I believe my finest acting moments have been with my children. Parents of young children are always acting. You act excited to read a story for the five-hundredth time. You act impressed someone went to the bathroom on the toilet. The excitement I show to some of the children’s scribbles should get me a Golden Globe nomination. Of course, this parental acting is a necessary form of encouragement. Most parental lies just seems pointless and almost abusive.

Great job, honey!

A man from the North Pole who slides down the chimney and brings presents seems so much more believable than a bunny that hides eggs. Somehow little kids believe all this stuff. It’s pathetic, really, how gullible they are. I understand that we want them to experience some of the magic of childhood before they are forced to grow up and face the harsh reality of gas bills and root canals, but really? Some of these frauds that we purposely perpetuate are just unnecessary. A
fairy
that brings you
money
for your
teeth
? Who started that one? And why do we keep it going? We are totally pressured into telling this lie because we are terrified that if we are the only
honest
parents who say, “Look, you lost a tooth. Congratulations. Enjoy looking like a hillbilly. Here’s a dollar,” we might be unconsciously depriving our children of some yet unknown but
really important stage of development, and we won’t find out until it’s too late and we find a dead hamster in their backpack.

By the way, could we all agree on the cash value of a tooth? I remember finding a shiny quarter under my pillow for my first tooth and being excited that I could buy a candy bar. I went to school for finance. I understand basic economics. When Marre lost her first tooth, I adjusted for inflation. According to my calculations, one dollar would be perfect. Marre was thrilled in the morning when she lifted her pillow to see George Washington frowning up at her. However, when she returned from school that afternoon, she was devastated. What had happened? Through her tears Marre choked out, “The Tooth Fairy hates my tooth! Why did Nellie get
twenty dollars
for her tooth!?” Because Nellie’s parents didn’t have change, that’s why. Somehow we all get the memo that you can no longer put new babies to sleep on their stomach, but no one can agree on the value of a tooth? Come on, people.

Eventually, children start questioning these ridiculous lies. Marre, now eight, has begun to wonder how Santa can reach every house in the world by flying reindeer. I suppose soon Marre will start lying to Jeannie and me about believing in Santa a couple of years after she stops. That’s what I did. I didn’t want to ruin it for my parents, and also I didn’t want to risk dissuading them from getting me presents.

I’m not proud of the lies I tell my children. Some are truly selfish and for the wrong reason. “Honey, you wouldn’t want a bite of Daddy’s cheeseburger. It’s spicy.” I don’t feel guilty when I deny eating my kids’ after-school snacks. I feel guilty telling them that their mom did. Of course, no parent sets out to lie
to his or her children. I never did. Then again, I never thought I would let my three-year-old watch TV or chew tobacco. Sometimes we have to lie about stuff to scare them out of hurting themselves. “Don’t play with firecrackers. My friend blew his hand off with a firecracker.” In a few years they’ll learn that
everyone’s
father had a friend who blew his hand off with a firecracker. We will be revealed as the liars we are, and to retaliate against our hypocrisy, our children will grow up and lie to their children.

Every parent lies to their kid and that is a fact. We don’t want to, but we do. The biggest lie we usually tell is when we threaten our children not to lie. “Don’t lie or I’ll tell Santa.”

“Why isn’t this the same guy from the mall?” —Marre, age six

Everyone knows you are supposed to read to young children. Well, that’s what I hear when I have my kids watch
Sesame Street
so I can waste time on the Internet. “Read to your children.” Interestingly enough, when you hear “Read to your children” on
Sesame Street
, they never say, “Did you hear me? Do not watch
Sesame Street
! Turn off the TV and read that kid a book!” We know we are supposed to read to our kids—what they don’t tell us is that we will be reading the same books over and over and over again. Around the tenth time reading some of these books to your kids, you begin to develop some really strong opinions and questions about them.