June 18, 2009 by Marj Hatzell
Thirteen. Lucky for some, unlucky for others. Especially if you suffer from triskadeckaphobia.
I’ve been married to this guy for thirteen years, you see. And you’d think that after thirteen years of living in Wedded Bliss (Hardy, har, har) I would have figured out that he is a giant child.
He is like a kid in a candy store at Home Improvement Stores and wants to buy everything he sees. He is the dad in the neighborhood that pulls sleds with his lawn tractor. He is the guy out there with all of the street urchins, shooting nerf guns at the ceiling fans in the house and teaching them how make their own marshmallow guns.
He is no example for how children should act. In fact, he is the perfect example of what NOT to do.
Like, DO NOT feed the dog stuff from the table.
DO NOT hang your head out of the car while driving and say/yell/whistle things.
DO NOT leave your shoes in the living room or stuff by the sink when I am washing dishes.
DO NOT capture lightning bugs at dusk and then smoosh them on the ground so that the ground glows. Better yet, don’t put a lightning bugs in the toilet and then tell your unsuspecting wife to go in there to get something, thereby scaring the dickens out of her.
DO NOT set off illegal fireworks, bootlegged from Tennessee, in the middle of the street in Pennsylvania when you live on the same block as the town sergeant. Better yet, across the street from him.
DO NOT rough house at Nine in the evening when I’m trying to get the babes to bed.
DO NOT eat bags of snacks or ice cream at ten at night after they are in bed, it’s too late to eat.
DO NOT leave toothpaste in the sink, leave the toilet unflushed or leave piles and piles of clothing on the bedroom floor.
DO NOT ever eat off of your wife’s plate. Or finish your kids’ dinners for them. They will come back to find their plates empty and freak out.
Like I said, a large child. But he’s my large child. And the kids? They think he is the “funnest dad ever!” He’s “FUN!” to all of the neighborhood kids. He’s the one they ask to play football with. He’s the one they want to play with them at barbecues.
And he’s MINE! Go away! YOU CAN’T HAVE HIM!