So here I sit. In the midst of an unprecedented winter storm pounding the Mid-Atlantic. 20 inches of snow and counting, predicted to nearly double by the end of the day. The first thought in my head is, “why the hell couldn’t this happen during college football season?” Because this is my dream. Sitting around lazily all Saturday with my pajamas still on, with nowhere to go, nothing to do. If it was football season, I’d just sit and watch games all day long. Doesn’t matter who is playing; any team from any conference for any stakes. I just love watching the games. This is what I did every Saturday during football season when I was in my 20’s before I had kids. I’d wake up, usually before noon, then hunker down and start watching games. If I had a bee in my bonnet I might get out of the house to run to Taco Bell to get $15 worth of cardiac arrest.
But now, Saturdays are filled with errands, kids’ ball games and time filler activities aimed directly at keeping the kids busy, away from screens, and unfortunately myself away from football. I seem to be able to scrape together 3 hours to watch my favorite team, but that is usually on DVR well after the game was played. And it’s usually after I know the outcome because my phone has been assaulted with a stockpile of text messages from my friends and brother alternating curses about our “stupid ass” coach. Many Dads reserve Sundays for football watching, because there are fewer kids’ activities. But I don’t like the pro game. It lacks the pageantry and sheer unpredictability of the college game. You get your share of blowouts and snoozers in the early part of the college season but once conference play kicks in there are loads of upsets.
My kids are 10 and nearly 8, so it’s not like I’m following them around the house tempting fate every 5 minutes. You know how it is when your kids are 2 and they constantly attempt suicide, electrical socket after stair climb. I should be more inclined to forget about the games being on and go outside with my kids and throw the ball, ride bikes, walk around in the woods. Things “good” fathers are supposed to do. Why do I feel this constant tug of not being a good father just because I want some fucking down time?
Don’t get me wrong. I love doing those things with my kids, but I also like just being lazy sometimes. My wife and I work every day, and that grind just wears on you. I feel like getting a Saturday to sit around and watch ball games isn’t too much to ask. But even when I do set that agenda for a Saturday, the kids quickly pop that balloon of excitement. “Dad, can I play on the Ipad?” “Dad, can you play American Girl dolls with me?” “Dad, who is the green team?” “Dad, who would win a fight between a horned frog and a lava lizard?” In between this deluge of questions my dog is sitting beside me with a half-erection staring at me to take him for a walk.
Older parents constantly remind you that someday the kids grow up and become disinterested. The house will be quiet and empty. But right now Bowling Green leads Western Michigan by 3 in the 4th quarter. And I couldn’t be happier.
2 vienna dads 