Saturday, August 8, 2009

Parklife vol. 1

These posts will deal with the trials and tribulations of being a rather unconventional daddy and dealing with, well, Parklife.

I have huge sideburns right now, i mean put Wolverine to fucking shame sideburns, i tend not to shave more than once a week and usually on monday's so that by saturday i do look a bit like a derelict but not so much as you'd run away from me but since i don't fit the bill of clean cut upstanding citizen i sometimes do take some shit from the proper parents at the park where i take the Imaginary boys aka Kid A and Kid B and today was one of those days.

Kid A has the habit of introducing himself to everyone and then asking how old you are just so he can tell you that he's three, the mummy at the park today has often spoke to him and me especially during the hockey playoffs when either him or i happened to be wearing a shirt supporting our beloved Penguinos, today she met a daddy who's little boy was roughly the same age as her little girl but about a year or so younger than Kid A, when he produced the magic bubble wand Kid A immediately took off across the park cuz there ain't nothing like chasing and popping soap bubbles on a hot day, now let me state that they had no problem with Kid A chasing bubbles but i went over to where they were cuz sometimes Kid A will deck smaller children in pursuit of said bubbles, so in the interest in their children's safety i ambled my way over.

I gave them the "hi i'm just watching my kid smile", said hello and tried to make sure Kid A didn't lay a cross check on the lil ones, they proceeded to give me the stink eye as the guy told the woman about how his wife was in Myrtle Beach running wing girl for her friend who was not nearly as faithful as his wife who was hanging out in bars with said friend while friend banged her way through her vacation or whatever it was while his wife went home alone every night to read a book, now i didn't want to add my two cents and i like to give people the benefit of the doubt but i've been involved in some things that kind of make me an expert or moron on human nature, i didn't have the heart to tell him that his wife was also fucking golfers down in S.C. golf capital all while telling him how horrible her friend was and what was funnier is that by the looks of these two in the park they were quite cozy as well, i almost wanted to ask how many times they'd seen each other naked and i'd bet a fucking bundle that they most likely met in church.

How did i reach this assumption? Well Parklife usually means the adults all sit around and chat or read or in my case chase Kid A around so he doesn't get his little ass hurt. These two couldn't seem to get away from me fast enough and seemed very intent on being able to talk in hushed tones away from everyone else and shit i've watched enough soap operas to know what that means, so maybe it wasn't me, but Mr. Mom defo took me for some kind of deadbeat dad who probably only saw his kids once a week. Fuck em. I try to avoid talking to anybody there anyway but when i do at least i pretend to enjoy it. Next time i'm gonna glare at him and throw my empty beer cans at his coupon. I'm tired and the drugs are kicking in.

5 comments:

daisyfae said...

i can usually tell when two colleagues - married, single, or some combination thereof - start exchanging body fluids. they are all flirtatious and open and silly up until the hot dog hits the tunnel... and then they act as uptight and righteous as churchladies.

i liked any parent paying attention to a kid in the park. facial hair or otherwise...

daisyfae said...

i can usually tell when two colleagues - married, single, or some combination thereof - start exchanging body fluids. they are all flirtatious and open and silly up until the hot dog hits the tunnel... and then they act as uptight and righteous as churchladies.

i liked any parent paying attention to a kid in the park. facial hair or otherwise...

nursemyra said...

echoing what daisyfae says ;-)

Ginny said...

I ALWAYS try to talk to the tattoed/sideburned/unkempt/crazy-eyed parents. Because the vanilla ones have nothing to say.

And I know the exact smile of which you speak. I always wondered if anyone knew what I was doing, or if they thought I was having some sort of unfortunate facial spasm.

Le Meems said...

My nephew does the same thing, but he's FACKING 8.

"Hi. My name is Jared. How old are you? I'm 8."

next kid on slide

"Hi. My name is Jared. How old are you? I'm 8."

next kid on swings

"Hi. My name is Jared. How old are you? I'm 8."

next kid on tire swing

"Hi. My name is Jared. How old are you? I'm 8."

JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY.
just.go.play


Anywhoo, I just discovered you. I have a crush on your writing. It's good. It's amusing. It's facking magictastic, especially this part:

not that i really know what i'm talking about cuz i'm just a big, hairy monkey who roams the earth devouring pharmacutical drugs and sunsets.



Aaah, now I'm ready for the weekend.