This post also appeared on www.capecodonline.com/blogs in the opinion section of the Cape Cod Times, a division of Ottaway Newspapers, Inc.
It’s Friday and I’m feeling a little frisky and rambunctious, so here’s a list of things and people who bother me. So without further ado, I hate it when:
— Someone (and since we live on Cape Cod it’s usually an elderly woman) walks up to Will and says “Ooh look at his double chin. He’s so pudgy. What a little butterball.” Excuse me, but did you just walk up to my son and comment on how fat he is? Tell you what? How about I do the same for you. It would go something along the lines of “Oooh, look at you with your old skin and liverspots. And you’re a stinky old gal aren’t you? Do you and my son wear the same brand of diaper? Now how about you go get in your Grand Marquis and drive 20 MPH on the highway?!”
— People drive like morons when I have Will in the car. Look, I still drive fast but I drive responsibly too. So this morning on Route 28 — which is a 55 MPH road — some douchebag in a Volvo is right on my ass even though I’m doing 70. Then he pulls around into the right lane, speeds up to 85 or so, and cuts in front of me only to find he can’t go anywhere because traffic is heavy. Well, I hope that manuveur was worth it buddy. You’re now one full car length ahead of where you were. Congratulations, even though you just endangered my son’s life you’re now going to get to your destination 3 seconds sooner than if you had stayed put and driven like a normal human being. Let’s just say he got the one-finger salute.
— Someone in a restaurant, grocery store or any other public place tries to give me advice on how to take care of my child. Either it’s “He’s cold, you should put a blanket on him” or “I can’t believe you give him a pacifier, those aren’t good for him you know?” I don’t know what is wrong with these people or why they feel the need to give me unsolicited advice, but how can they not realize how rude they are being? From now on I’m just going to not-so-politely tell them to mind their own business and point out they can probably do a little work on themselves before offering up their crappy advice to me.
— Anyone says the following things to me about Will, because I’ve now heard each of them thousands of times.
“Wow, he hasn’t missed too many meals huh?” No, he hasn’t. I’m a little funny in that I don’t like to starve my child. Moron.
“Oh he’s gonna be as big as his daddy.” Really? So you’ve not only called my baby fat, now you’re starting in on me? Watch yourself.
“I think you’re overfeeding him.” How the hell do you know? If a baby is hungry, he should eat. You can’t really overfeed him at this point so shut your mouth.
“Look at him, he’s so beautiful.” Well, OK…I still like hearing that one!
— Someone will invariably ask us when we’re planning on having the next one. First of all, that’s none of your business and it’s a little personal don’t you think? I mean, isn’t that the same thing as asking “So, when are you going to have intercourse with your wife and launch your sperm inside of her in the hopes of planting your seed in her belly?” I’m still getting a grasp on taking care of one kid, what makes you think we’re even contemplating adding another one to the mix right now? And more than that, where would I put this child. We live in a two-bedroom condo that can barely contain three people, two dogs and two cats. And since we bought the place in 2005 right before the housing market went into the toilet, there’s no way we can sell it. So how about we strike a deal? Since you’re so worried about me impregnating my wife again, how about you front me the down payment on a new house and then we’ll talk about more kids.