No more parenting for me.

I have found that one of the most difficult things about being a parent is the fact that you’re supposed to be good at it. I’m not talking about feeding and clothing and protecting and hugging and kissing and laughing and tickling and telling bedtime stories and all that. That’s the easy stuff.

If you’re not good at that, you should maybe consider the possibility that you are a selfish so-and-so.

An aside: I’ve never understood why bad words are considered “bad words.” I wanted to write “prick” just then (partly because I enjoy the harsh, yet not-too-angry sound of the word “prick,” but mostly because I am not James Cagney in a 1940’s gangster movie which is the only time in the history of the world that saying to someone: ‘you old so-and-so’ was cool ), but I am afraid that people might get offended. I would submit, however, that the word itself is not offensive; it’s the feeling and/or intention behind the word that does most of the offending. If that’s true — And it is. Trust me. I was an English major — then “so-and-so” should ruffle your pretty, little, downy feathers just as much as “prick” does because I meant every syllable of it!

Anyway, if you don’t like taking care of your kids and sometimes wrestling with them on the living room floor before tucking them into bed, you’re more than likely a selfish, heathenish so-and-so. But that’s between you and whatever made-up god you obviously worship.

I’m talking about the deep stuff. The heart stuff. The monumental moments and sacramented seconds (¯\_(ツ)_/¯) that end up defining a child’s perspective(s) and attitude(s) towards a particular experience, person, place, or thing. Basically all of the nouns.

Would you like a for instance? Because I have a for instance. Here goes:

My son and I were on the way to baseball tryouts the other day and he said he wanted to get “hyped,” so I suggested we listen to AC/DC, or “maybe a nice ‘War Pigs’ by Black Sabbath,” but he chose Migos instead and basically nothing I have ever done as a parent is worth a big, stinking, pile of so-and-so, and I quit.

No more parenting for me.