I realized something, when my wife left to run errands the other day – women are better at the kid stuff than men. Example: when my daughter was born, I never once questioned my wife alone with her. It took about four months for her to leave me alone with her for 20 minutes. “You know where the milk is?” Yeah, yeah. “The diapers? The blanket? Her binky? Is your phone charged? Do you have a tactical response team ready?” Sure, sure. Five minutes after she left – damn, I forget what the baby needs. I saw a bird on TV chew up worms and regurgitate them into the nest. This is going to suck; probably should have paid attention.
Everything is good until there’s a problem. Once my girl threw a meltdown fit. Music works, right? I searched my phone’s iTunes quickly. Megadeth, Anthrax, Pantera, Machine Head, Black Sabbath…hmmm, not getting it done. Thankfully I had John Denver as a rip cord. Maybe I should bust out the whiskey; the pioneers used it and look how well they did with kids.
Even the small things like my daughter uses my wife’s shirts as security blankets. The other day she grabbed one of mine off the laundry pile, smelled it and threw it down in disgust. Guess my musk isn’t toddler friendly. Maybe it was all the worms and whiskey.