So, as a parent, we do wonderful things, and not so wonderful things. Sometimes, things come out of our mouths as gems that would seem like you were channeling the Dali Lama himself.

            Girl-cub was about two years old. One night, she wandered into our room stating she was having trouble sleeping. I had just been looking out our master bedroom window, which overlooks the desert. There was a thunder storm that was sending huge billowing clouds up toward our mountain home. The sun had already set this evening, and the lightning was illuminating these towering white monsters. After she was asked if she felt sick and answered "no", my mind went quickly to the place every parent goes, “What is it that will calm the child?” Some prefer a lullaby, others a back scratch. Me, I'm more along the lines of mystery and make believe. So there I went, like a spinning top. I scooped her up, cradling her in my arms, and walked to the window. "Look, my little girl-cub," I said as we watched the clouds blink on and off, "The angels are here to kiss you goodnight. They want you to have good dreams and a wonderful nights sleep." Her amazement was bigger than life. "Fo me?", she said. I replied with, "Just for you. Angel kisses. Big, warm, kisses from heaven."

            With that, she released. I carried her to her room and placed her in bed. "Ni Ni, Angels." She said as she shut her eyes. And as if on cue, a rumble of thunder was heard. She looked at me with delight, her eyes wide. "And that is their way of saying, Ni Ni, girl-cub."  She was out cold within a minute, angelic bliss flowed across her face.

            I was a proud dad that night. One more notch in my never ending belt. Even my wife mentioned it was pretty cool. Wow, I was on a roll! Maybe I can perk an interest with mom to help make another cub tonight? LOL Hey, I'm a guy! What did you expect? But, I'll stop there. I don't want the wife reading this later and unleashing the flying monkeys on my @ss.

            Now here comes the fun part of the story; the next night.

            The next night, after giving the girl-cub the nose-nose-kiss-kiss-hug-hug goodnight tradition, the parents were winding down after a long day. Until, from upstairs, a large crash was heard, like someone had jumped off the couch onto the floor.  What was that!? The girl-cub should have been asleep by now!

            Then, there was screaming and running. Footsteps stomped along from our room to the girl-cub's room. Mom and I flew up the stairs. I was ready to throw down. What we found was girl-cub climbing back into her bed in an outright frenzy, sobbing uncontrollably! Her breathing was rapid. Snot and tears squirting from her face. “What's wrong!” my stern voice commanded. Girl-cub wails into the night,“The Angels don't love me anymore!!!! WHAAAaaaaaaaa!!!”

            See, the storm from last night was no more. No kisses from the angels were there. No love from the Angels could be seen. Girl-cub was taking this personal. All because of me! Well done, DAD! What are you going to do now, huh? Huh!? Don't let your daughter's pain last any longer! Think quick, Dad. Think quick!

            It was like staring down an out of control car, which surprisingly looked like my own car. Heh, how ironically funny is that? I should jump left. I should jump right. I should just stand there and kiss the bumper hello. Damn it, man! You got her into this mess. Get her out of it!!

            "Ooohhh... Huuuuuney,... It doesn't mean they don't love you. It's just that there are other children in the world that are having a bad night. They know you are alright. Their kisses told you so last night."

            "Oh, so they are helping other children?"

            "Yes, hun." as I wiped her down.

            "Oh,.. (she spent five seconds pondering this) ...ok." With that, the whirlwind chaotic hysteria stopped, and off to sleep she went. I sat with her for another 15 minutes. I couldn't pull myself away. I had scared her so. I petted her face and spun her hair in circles, even though she had long ago traveled into sleepy-land.

Parental note: As quickly a nice day in the park can come upon you, so can stepping in a big pile of dog poop. Being a parent, you need to be on your toes at every moment. Maybe next time, I'll just tell her the truth though.

            By the time I made it back to my bedroom, mom was already in bed. She pulled the comforter over her shoulder and rolled onto one side. Her parting words(as only a beautiful wife can) for the night were, "Nice save, Jack-Arse."

"Hey! That's Mr. Jack-Arse to you, Missy!"

Craig Lawrey

Being a little late, I had to sit behind two lines of three cars each. With both of my children in the back, drinking their Slimfasts, I had the music on and the back window open about an eighth of an inch. We sat waiting for the kids to get out and the line of cars to move forward, so I put the car in park and set the emergency brake. Then my daughter dropped her drink onto the floorboard. As I frantically strained myself back toward her, with foot hard on the brake to help me reach, I fumble around to find it.

As I did so, I heard someone revving their engine. I couldn’t be sure, though, because the music was on and the window was only slightly open. I located the drink, which luckily hadn’t spilled too much, and give it back to her. I still heard an engine racing, only now it is much louder. I started looking around, trying to find the moron that would do such a thing at an elementary school at pick-up time.

Then I realize everyone was looking at me! See, we had to buy another car recently. Another Subaru. Both are white, same model, one year apart, but our newer one is an automatic. I thought I was driving the stick shift. I also thought I was pressing on the brake. But no! I had that thing pegged at more than 8,000 RPM’s! My foot came off the pedal like lightning, and my knee crashed into the steering wheel. I yelped in pain. Moms all around were looking at me like they’d just gotten word that my village wanted its idiot back. I couldn’t have been more embarrassed or dumbfounded at my own stupidity.

                As I tried to calm down, I eased the car forward. Some children were getting picked up now, and cars were moving forward. I got to the front of the line and shifted to park to await the bag of homework. The teacher opened the rear door and handed it to my daughter. She looked at me, raised a brow and asked, with a slight smile, “Everything Ok?”

“Oh yea, just being stupid.” I replied.

My children belted out, “Daddy, you don’t use the word, stupid!”

“But kids, I’m calling myself stupid. Isn’t that Ok?”

My daughter looked to her teacher for an answer. The teacher said, “Yes, darling, it is Ok if he calls himself stupid.”

She shut the door and walked off laughing. I bowed my head low (my human equivalent of tucking my tail between my legs), kind of chuckled, released the parking brake, put the car in drive and gave it a little gas.

I went nowhere. I realized I wasn’t in drive, but in neutral. I slipped it into drive before the RPM’s lowered and jump/screeched the tires, my head slamming the back of the seat. Oh, dear Lord! I didn’t think it could get any worse! It was as if someone had torn out my spinal cord, decided that that wasn’t good enough, and began to beat me about the head with it. I just wanted this day to go away. My inner child was in the fetal position weeping.

                I drove home carefully. As I got to my driveway, I thought again about what I had just done, and shook my head in defeat. How could you be so stupid? Idiot!

I turned into the driveway and quickly engaged the clutch, slamming the kids into their seatbelts and burning a foot-long skid mark into the pavement. Once again: idiot! You’re in the automatic!

“What was that for, Daddy!?”, they both yelled. Before I could answer, I notice my neighbors looking strangely at me from their garden. My inner child was now going through a gang initiation. “A squirrel”, I said in my inner child’s voice.

Later that night, as my testosterone inched back up to normal levels and my spine found its way home, I told my wife about my day. As she rolled around on the floor crying and laughing, (at me)I thought to myself, being a stay-at-home dad doesn’t get any better than this.

Craig Lawrey