Being a father is the single most thankless job any man will ever commit to. Small kids tend to gravitate towards their mother, and those are the best years to be a parent – long before they develop the stones to call you an asshole. Until my dying day, I will wonder in vain trying to comprehend why anyone would voluntarily become a father. Don’t get me wrong. Once you have a child, I am a staunch believer that it is your responsibility to completely care for your offspring, whether they were voluntary or not. Having a kid is like joining the mob – one you’re initiated, there ain’t no getting out. Ever. And your life will never be the same. Expect everything – your friends, your hobbies, your spare time, and your financial status – to change drastically. That’s just the way it goes.
If you’re in this parenting situation for the first time, get ready for an adventure like no other. Think of it like going to school, but with no teacher, no textbook, and no do-overs. There is no official guide that will show you how to be a good parent. Sure, you can learn how to pick up chicks, steal a car, hack a computer, or even build a meth lab on YouTube. But you won’t find anything worthwhile pertaining to parenting secrets. There are no experts, no authorities, no councils, no government agencies, no churches, no organizations, no non-profits, and no anybodies who really know what’s best for any child. And if anyone tells you otherwise, they’re lying. Personally, there’s nothing I hate more than a willing liar. That’s why I hate salespeople so much. But, I digress.
Look, if you honestly don’t have the mental faculty to have already inferred that I am angry, please give your child or upcoming child to an orphanage, immediately. Most firehouses and police stations will take your offspring for free, with no questions asked. Still with me? Good. So, why am I so angry? Let me count the reasons.
First of all, there is no manual to parenthood. Some unseen, unknown, all-knowing being, or force, or whatever you believe in, thinks it’s funny to give you the biological equipment for the ultimate human pleasure. And then he, she, or it punishes you with this ball and chain that will stand in the way of you getting that pleasure for the next twenty years. Supposedly, He’s smart enough to create life, a planet, and a universe. But he purposely forgets to leave a manual?
Secondly, you’ve got all these professional yentas and social yahoos running around, pretending to be “experts” in child-rearing. Granted, some are very intelligent people. But you’ve heard their ridiculous advice, ranging from putting headphones on your stomach and playing classical music before they’re born, to giving them a candy treat for pooping in a toilet. I wish someone would give me a treat for taking a poop.
Enough already! We’ve let these crazy bitches rule the roost for the past fifty years, and they have failed miserably. American education is now the world’s armpit: it stinks. Most forms of discipline are completely illegal. And today’s generation is the biggest bunch of whiney, lazy bastards I’ve ever met. Nice work, you idiots.
Finally, America’s large corporations have decided to rule your entire life, by purchasing all the large-scale media. That’s right – Comcast owns NBC, and Disney owns ABC. No worries, though. Miley Cyrus and Lady Gaga will be fine role models for your sweet little girls. Need fashion and career advice? No problem – just call that rocket scientist, Kim Kardashian.
So I’ve written this manual, trashed it, and re-written it, at least seven times. I was going to poop-can the entire project, in fear of offending my own children. But this all needs to be said. Out loud. In public. So I chose a clever pseudonym (say it slowly). This book has been five years in the making, and it’s finally finished. I don’t have a degree in anything even loosely resembling social work or education. Considering the quackery of parental advice established by current experts, that’s a probably a good thing. Many folks get stuck in their boxes and don’t ever look outside of them. I’ll be the first to admit that I have no idea what I’m talking about when it comes to raising a child. But no one else does, either. What I do offer is real-world experience, spanning more than two decades filled with mistakes and hard knocks. My resume reads like a Lifetime movie: three divorces, one semi-estranged child (her mother’s choice), and a second child who often receives conflicting signals from his other home. I have paid enough child support to buy a Maserati. I have seen it all – and probably paid for it, in one way or another. Plus, I am an expert at microwave cooking and playing the cowbell. I’ve still got fairly decent hair, with only one mild bald patch. And just last year, I wrote six other books, plus an entire country music CD under another pseudonym that you’d never guess. Don’t hate. What most qualifies me to write this manual is something that is unfortunately lacking in the majority of Americans, these days: probably missing in action since Thomas Paine’s bestseller more than two hundred years ago – Common Sense. The boundaries between right and wrong used to be black and white. But today, they’re more than fifty shades of gray. Perhaps, director Spike Lee made it a bit too generic with his line, “Do the right thing.” But it’s a start.
So sit back, and throw back a cold one – you’re going to need it – and join me on this wildlife adventure called parenthood. You’re stuck now, so you may as well make the most of it. It’s fun. It’s confusing. It’s thankless. It’s rewarding. It sucks. It’s wonderful. It’s punitive. It’s cognizant. It’s ridiculous. Parenting is a bunch of things. The one thing it ain’t, is reversible. Most importantly, parenting is what you make it. No pressure, but remember that the success or failure of that innocent little life is riding in your hands. There are no second chances. No do-overs. No mulligans. So you’d better get it right, the first time. And always remember – someday, that parasite might end up becoming your best friend, or your worst enemy.
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