Monday, August 31, 2009

My new hero…

greatest-american-hero

It’s true – I, The Hawg, have a new hero.

I couldn’t tell you the name of my hero (I’ll explain why later), but he is truly The Man We All Wish We Could Be.

Dig this.

One of the girls in my daughter’s Brownies troop was having a birthday party. To celebrate, the little girl decided to have a bunch of friends over to her house for a sleepover.

Yeah, that sounds like fun, doesn’t it? About a dozen girls who are about eight-years-old running nuts and screaming their heads off for hours on end (my daughter tells me she didn’t get to sleep until 3:30 a.m.)

When we dropped my daughter off for the party we asked the mother of the birthday girl where her husband was. It seems he took off before the girls arrived and was nowhere to be found.

Ah, but he didn’t become my hero then. No, he became my hero when my daughter came home from the party and I asked her if he came home and she said, “No he greatest_american_herodidn’t.”

That’s right. That heroic cat fled the scene and – apparently – didn’t come back home until the party was over and everyone was gone. Where did he go? Who cares? He got out of there and saved himself an evening of aggravation. None of us fathers met the man but I’d like to think that all of us thought the same thing -- “Man, I wish I could do that.”

That takes some guts, folks. My hat goes off to my hero because he achieved something that I never could. If my daughter decides to have a sleepover with a ton of squealing girls, I imagine my conversation with my wife would go something like this:

The Wife: Well, she wants to have a sleepover.

The Hawg: Really? God. What do you think?

The Wife: I think we should let her do it.

The Hawg: I don’t. That’s a terrible idea. All that yelling…

The Wife: Well, I’ve already told her she could have a sleepover. So…

The Hawg: Y’all have fun. I don’t really like kids unless I’m related to them, you know?

The Wife: What do you mean, “Y’all have fun?”

The Hawg: I figure I’ll be down the street at a hotel until it’s over. I’ll watch some television and just relax for awhile. I’ll tell our son he can flee with me if he wants…

The Wife: The hell you will! You’re not going to leave me with all those kids! You’re going to stay here and help me! Your daughter would be crushed if she knew her father wanted to run out on her instead of helping her enjoy her party. Grow up. You’re a father. Fathers have to do things like this.

The Hawg: Yes dear…

You see? I’d cave in an instant. My wife would win the day through an effective combination of intimidation and guilt.

Ah, but my hero didn’t cave. I suspect that most of us fathers would like to flee sleepovers. My hero had the guts to actually do it.

That, friends, makes him a manly man of the first order and an inspiration to us all. God bless you, hero! Long may you reign…

6 comments:

Crabby Blogging Lady said...

Well.... you could also consider these alternatives:

1. Forbid your daughter to have any friends. Or, if she wheedles you a lot, allow just ONE. Works for me.

2. PUT YOUR FOOT DOWN, man! Tell your wife by NO MEANS will you be kicked out of your own home by a bunch of screaming girls-- get a hotel room for THEM.

Hope that helps. Have a nice dayy.

The Natural State Hawg said...

Crabby -- Sadly, I don't think any of that will work. I've not had much luck putting my foot down around my house -- my wife is ex-Army and she could whip me in a fair fight.

Marci Nobles said...

Honey I don't think the conversation would even be that long. But you are correct, when the day comes that she wants to have a sleepover you will be right here with me helping. There won't even be any hiding out in the bedroom to try and get away from it all.

Love you!!!

Karen said...

That guy is a wimp! I'll bet he didn't go into the delivery room either.

Sherry at EX Marks the Spot said...

Oh, what a life you have in store for you in the next 10 years!!!!!

Harrison said...

Smart man!