Daddification of Todd Thicke
I became a father
recently. Actually, for the second time, I already planted my fertile
seed a few years ago resulting in a gorgeous boy. Now I have a brand
spanking new daughter to go with that spanking new son and occasonally
Let me say that
having children is the most glorious experience on the face of the
earth. Now that that's out of the way, I'll go on.
the course of having two children, I've become... a dad. By that,
I mean, I've gotten "responsible." Oh, I can still party with the
best of them, but only until 9.30.
Where I could
once blather on endlessly about the differences between lager and
ale, I'm now an expert on estate taxes, wills and the always fascinating
Irrevocable Insurance Trust. (The one issue still up for discussion
is who will take the children if something happens to us? Our gardener
Carlos was my choice, quickly nixed by the wife.)
The bottom line
is the best thing that could happen to my kids is if my wife and
I are crushed in some piano-falling-from-the-sky accident.
I know about my
bowels. Go ahead, ask me the difference between a colonoscopy and
a flexible sigmoidoscope. Just remember to breathe deeply and relax.
I remember I used
to be so grossed out by the many liquids that come out of babies.
You never really have an appreciation of someone elses' bodily fluids
until they're on your shirt. The first few times, you hold the baby
at arms length and run screaming for help, possibly even call 911.
Now, if my baby drools/spits up/poops on me, I just shift her to
my other shoulder and have another bite of nachos. Last night, my
son vomited in my hair, and I actually watched football highlights
before hitting the shower.
Where the sound
of a baby whimpering used to bring me running faster than Tiger
Woods chasing an endorsement, now crying is a signal to turn up
the tv, and make sure my wife hears so she can make sure everything's
But I think the
the most amazing thing of all is the physcial transformation. Not
to the babies, yeah, I know they grow up so fast, cherish each moment,
blah blah blah. I mean to me.
I caught a horrifying
vision in the mirror the other day. Apparently, someone had broken
into our home and stolen my rosy complexion and youthful good looks.
And what I'm about to reveal next is absolutely true, swear to God.
I was wearing my wife's bathrobe, long white socks and black sandals.
It's not like
I passed out drunk and woke up like that, some practical joke my
friends pulled after burning all my clothes. Although that has happened.
No. This was my own fashion choice.
What the hell
has happened to me? Aren't I still cool and hip and young and handsome?
Oh, there are
plenty of advantages to dadhood. A constant three year old best
friend who still thinks I'm Superman even after watching me clean
up dog poop in my wife's robe and long white socks and black sandals.
And a beautiful 3 month old daughter who's an easy laugh -- (bug
out your eyes and say "A Boooo") That's gotta count for a lot.
But did I mention
I've got hair growing out of my ears?