As a 7 time FOTY Award Winner (Father of the Year), I offer my annual installment of free parenting advice:
This year – Raising Boys – The Most Annoying Creatures Ever Made
Thinking of having kids? Think harder. Do you smile when you see little boys running around and shouting for joy? There’s something wrong with you; you need professional help.
Here is the hard reality. Boys are annoying. They are loud. If there isn’t noise coming out the front, then it is coming out the back. Half of the time, you cannot tell which end the noise is coming from. Boys make sounds that I can’t even spell. At this moment, my young son is making sounds to the tune of music that only he hears. Let me give you a sample of this wonderful music:
“WEE WHADA WHADA. WHADA. Bleer bleer bleerdee. OOKACHOOKA WUSSU!!! DI DI DI DI DIIIIIIIII DER DER!!!!!!”
(Make sure you turn the volume up all the way until your ears bleed so you can experience this in stereo pain)
Not only are boys annoying and loud, but they are also hard of hearing. Perhaps this is because they have deafened themselves. A boy’s response to nearly every question will be, “What?”
(At this point, I must offer the following important disclaimer: A boy’s hearing loss is selective and applies only to questions posed directly to him. If you and your spouse are discussing issues of a sensitive nature and you are certain that your son cannot hear you because he is in the furthest corner of the house and is singing at the top of his lungs, you are wrong. He will hear you and will shout, “What does ___ mean?” This is a sacred law of nature, like Gravity, and cannot be violated.)
I hope I have made my point. If not, let me reiterate here: boys are annoying. At this point in my speech, I must pause to answer your eagerly shouted questions. “Abe! Honorable Sir! If boys are so annoying, why do people keep having them? Sir, if you please?”
The answer is not simple. Nor do I know it. Here is my theory. We are human. As such, our brains are designed to forget pain quickly. Pain is erased by something I call “Goodness”. Goodness erases pain in an exponential manner. In fact, I have deduced the mathematical equation for this phenomenon:
M = P + (A1 + (A2 X 0.6)) x G x 0
Where M = Memory, P = Pain, A1 = Mother’s age, A2 = Father’s age, and G = Goodness.
“Honorable King Abe! Please define ‘Goodness’. Please sir, and may we have some bread?”
No bread for you! But let me see if I can define Goodness:
When the noise stops. When the mouth farts cease. When the last echoes of horrible chipmunk voice screeching fade into silence. When the boy turns and smiles at me and says, “Dad? I love you.” When he climbs on my lap and hugs me tight; when he climbs in bed on a Saturday morning and snuggles while we watch cartoons together; when his face lights up as he opens a gift; when his joyful laugh echoes through the trees as we walk the trail together; when he makes me feel that I am the luckiest man alive…
This is Goodness.
And this is why we continue to produce the annoyance which is Boy.
To you fathers who are striving to win the FOTY Award, keep trying. You’ll make it. Don’t give up and feel free to pay me for my advice. They say ‘nothing is free’ but that isn’t true. I don’t get paid anything for this blog. Case closed.