Watch Your Junk and Other Advice for Expectant Fathers

by Benjamin Wallace

  MOBILITY

  We’ve already covered how we, as new parents, are idiots. This is never better expressed than in our desire to have our babies learn to crawl or take their first steps. That’s because we don’t know any better. We think it’s beneficial for children to be mobile. What we don’t realize is that it means we never get to sit down again.

  They start by dragging themselves across the floor with only their arms. What are they moving towards? Power cords, sleeping pets and anything of value that sits on the floor. Here you’ll find yourself getting up every few minutes to drag them back to their starting point and pointing them in a different direction.

  From there they will turn around and go right back to where you didn’t want them to begin with. It will be faster this time. You’ll repeat this process a few times before you finally get the good sense to just place whatever they were after out of reach.

  Once they get their legs involved it’s just over. They’re twice as fast and can get into trouble in the time it takes you to find the remote.

  You think maybe that you’ll just hold them because you forgot about the baby head butt and how, at this point, they can squirm their way out of any grasp. Just get used to getting up and down.

  Once they start walking, it only gets worse. Being vertical, they can reach more things and have added the element of tripping to your list of fears. Honestly it would be best if you just sell all of your furniture. You’ll never use it and they’ll just find a way to either hurt themselves on it or ruin it for everyone.

  With your first child, you’ll have the camera with you at all times, hoping to capture their first steps for posterity. And, based on anecdotal research, everyone films the actual first steps or completely lies and tells everyone they were the actual first steps. By the time your second child comes along you’ll be praying that it takes them longer to walk than the first. You may even consider greasing the floor, accidentally spilling your marble collection or laying down trip wires.

  There’s no stopping it. Just look at the whole experience as cardio. You could probably save some money by canceling the gym membership for a couple of years.

  LET’S TALK ABOUT SHIT, AGAIN

  By this point you’ll have come to grips with poop. You won’t wince when it reveals itself in a particularly bad diaper. If it gets on your fingers, you’ll wipe it off. If it oozes down your pants, you’ll get new pants. Living with poop has become second nature by now. You’ve grown accustomed. Complacent. That’s just what the poop is counting on.

  As soon as you underestimate poop, it turns on you.

  I don’t want this to happen to you so I’m just going to ask you to imagine entering into the nursery and seeing your perfect little child. He or she has your eyes, your wife’s nose, beautiful hair that smells of youth and innocence and a toothy grin that makes it feel like your heart is being embraced by a physical manifestation of tenderness. They sit in their safari animal adorned crib beneath a crappy mural someone tricked you into painting on the wall. Their arms are raised and they’re cooing to be picked up by the man they admire most in the world. That’s you, big guy.

  Now imagine all of that covered in shit. Those eyes are underlined with crap like the child is a linebacker for a team in some fecal football league. That nose has a brown streak down it completing the war paint of poop. And that beautiful hair that smelled of hope is caked and matted with a mousse made of turd. The toothy grin is as broad as ever but the teeth are speckled brown as if the cavity creeps turned their decay ray into crap blasters. They sit in their poop stained crib beneath a mural that someone tricked you into painting that is now, literally, crappier. Their arms are raised and they’re cooing to be picked up by the man they admire most in the world. That’s still you, big guy.

  In no class or book did it ever mention that my child might one day dig the crap out of their diaper and rub it in their hair and on the walls like some deranged Picasso. We were totally unprepared for it. The child did it overnight so we would open the door to the nursery with big smiles ready to help them greet the day and the kid just sat before us wallowing. Our baby was still in full body pajamas at the time and had managed to unzip them and still get to the diaper.

  They can’t be reasoned with at this age. They will merely sit there and smile at you like they did something great. Perhaps if it was finger-paint instead of finger-poop, it would be. But, the smell alone prevented us from photographing it for posterity.

  Long story short, we tried several things before we finally discovered the solution. God willing you won’t need to know this, but what worked for us was cutting the feet off of the pajamas and putting them on the child backwards after making more room in the collar.

  The crappy art stopped but we still opened the door with apprehension every single morning. While holding our noses. Just in case.

  FIRST MOMENT OF COGNITION

  One of the coolest milestones of a developing child is when they can understand you. It is this glorious moment of actual interaction that gives you hope as a parent—a brief semblance of possible control over your children. You now have one more tool in your belt aside from physically stopping whatever dangerous action is transpiring.

  Certainly, it’s a false sense of hope, but at that first moment of cognition there is a euphoric feeling that you’re doing something right.

  What makes this moment even cooler is that it happens before they can speak. Which means that they can’t talk back.

  My first experience with this was, of course, my oldest son. He was toddling through the living room. I was sitting comfortably. Neither of us wanted to stop.

  There was a piece of paper on the floor. I asked him to pick it up and put it in the trash.

  And, he did it! I’m not underselling this when I say it was the coolest thing ever.

  He stopped and looked at me. Picked up the trash, opened the pantry door and dropped it in the can!

  I was so excited. I called my wife and told her, in every detail, what had happened.

  By the time the twins came along I knew that just because a child could understand you didn’t mean they would do what you say. At least not without an argument. The greatness of this moment had worn off.

  So, it snuck up on me.

  It may just be a father’s eyes that tells me my children are smarter than most but I offer this as objective proof—my twins could tattle before they could talk.

  They would toddle to me or Mommy and point at their brother or sister and start babbling.

  Once again I was sitting, something I truly enjoy, and I saw the offense happen.

  My youngest son pushed his twin sister. She fell all of six inches and landed on a diaper padded rear. This, obviously, upset her. She ran to me and pointed at her brother putting forth a prosecutor’s case in complete gibberish.

  “I saw him,” I told her. “Push him back.”

  A light went on. She understood me. She did not know that retaliation had been an option. A smile crossed her face, she ran back to her brother and pushed him down onto his rear. He stood up, ran to me and started complaining in toddlerese.

  “You shouldn’t have pushed her.”

  He looked defeated. He understood.

  “Now go hug your sister and make up.”

  They did. They hugged and made up. And ever since they have understood when we talk to them. Now, whether they listen or obey, is completely different.

  BAD WORDS

  As cool as it is to realize that your kids are listening, it’s terrifying to realize that your kids are listening. Because, now you have to watch your mouth.

  I have what some would call a fucking potty mouth, so I’ll tell you what I did.

  I figured out that the word monkey replaced almost any swear word and was just as much fun to say.

  If someone cut me off in traffic that person was a dumb monkey.

  If I ran into heavy traffic, I’d declare son of a monkey.

  When I wanted to demonstr
ate how little I cared, I would tell someone that I didn’t give a monkey.

  A particularly annoying person was a monkey hole which I would invite to eat monkey and die.

  Bull monkey not only showed my doubt but created visions in my head of monkey running in Pamplona.

  Brilliant. Right? Just say it. Monkey. It’s satisfying and nonoffensive. Who doesn’t love monkeys? That’s rhetorical but I’ll answer it. Evil people. Evil heartless people don’t like monkeys.

  My thinking was that if I replaced all the bad words in the world with monkey even if my kid did start repeating me, it would be cute. It was a sound plan.

  I did not, however, foresee the great new swear words it would create. The plan went off the rails when I messed up and replaced mother with monkey instead of the bad word. I called a driver a monkey fucker. It was accidental, but very satisfying. It was the beauty of monkey combined with the visceral sensation of dropping the f-bomb.

  This mistake opened up a whole new world of insults. Ass monkey. Monkey bastard. Monkey loving motherfucker.

  So, needless to say, I have no helpful advice here. Just a warning: the baby is listening so watch your fucking mouth.

  TALKING

  Does it really matter whose name the baby says first? You’d better believe it does. Those are bragging rights right there and you want to make sure you have them. Way in the future, your child will declare that they hate you as they slam a door. At that point you can turn to your wife and remind her that the kid said your name first.

  I do not endorse baby talk. I think it’s condescending to children and it makes my skin crawl the same way it does when advertisers try to rap—like my skin is trying to physically leave my body so it can beat me for not running away sooner. However, there is one caveat, and that word is Dada.

  Say it proudly, say it sweetly, say it often. As soon as your child tries to start sounding out words, get in there and say it with a smile. Sing it. You’d be surprised how easy it is to replace the words of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star with Dada, Dada, Dada, da.

  You need to know that your wife is doing the same thing with Mama when you aren’t looking but you don’t need to worry. It is easier for babies to say d’s than m’s. Don’t tell her that. Just tell her you’re awesome.

  MORE THAN A FATHER

  At this point, after being a baby for all of its life, your child will become a toddler. That, of course, holds its own set of surprises, but you’re more than equipped to handle it because you are more than a father. You’re a role model, an instructor, a coach, a confidant, a counselor, a trendsetter and a hero. You are everything to this kid and more.

  When you became a father you became more than a simple parent; you were also granted extraordinary powers.

  I myself now control space and time, lord over an army of elven minions and have at my disposal a factory that puts the industrial machine of WWII America to shame.

  I have risen above my C average to have complete dominion over the animals to the point to which I can make ungulates slip the surly bonds of earth and dance the sky on laughter-silvered wings.

  I now possess the skills of the master woodworker who carves the rocking horse, frames the dollhouse and constructs fine musical instruments.

  I have the capabilities to design, code and craft complex algorithms that manifest as visual and aural entertainment.

  I thrive in harsh environments that took man generations to explore and have yet to conquer.

  I have mastered biology and restructured my own physiology to such extremes that I can sustain myself on milk and cookies.

  I promote countless products that contribute to the financial well-being of entire economies.

  I bring excitement to millions.

  I make children happy.

  I am Santa Claus.

  You’ll be Santa too and gain these powers. Well, I guess not everybody, but at the very least you’ll be the Tooth Fairy. That’s kind of the same thing.

  THE END

  You can never be fully prepared for how much a child changes your life. Everything changes: your priorities, your views, your beliefs—everything is affected when this miracle comes home.

  Hopefully, I’ve taken some of the surprises and uncertainty out of the pregnancy and the first year. The biggest thing is to never feel alone. If you truly believe that it’s you against the baby, then the baby has already won.

  People have been having babies for like a hundred years now. Everyone before you has gone through the confusion, exhaustion and frustration that you now face. And they always come out smiling because kids are totally worth all the crap they put you through and all the crap they put on you and on your clothes and on your stuff and in their hair.

  Totally worth it.

  Good luck, Dad. If you have any questions, don’t call me. My kids are older now and I’m catching up on sleep.

  GIVE THE GIFT OF JUNK

  Watch Your Junk and Other Advice for Expectant Fathers is available in print so you can give it to expecting friends and look like a hero. Paired with a small Phillips head screwdriver, it makes the perfect baby shower gift for less than $10.

  Great Idea! BUY THE PRINT BOOK ON AMAZON

  FURTHER READING FOR FATHERS

  Explore the further perils of parenthood in the bestselling Dads Versus the World and Dads Versus Zombies by the same smartass that wrote this book.

  Check out Dads Versus books now:

  Dads Versus The World

  Dads Versus Zombies

  OTHER WORKS

  by Benjamin Wallace

  DUCK & COVER ADVENTURES

  Post-Apocalyptic Nomadic Warriors

  Knights of the Apocalypse

  Pursuit of the Apocalypse

  Revenge of the Apocalypse

  OR Save

  and Get Books 1-3 with The Boom Box Collection

  And, the short stories collection

  Tales of the Apocalypse (Volume 1)

  JUNKERS

  Junkers

  Junkers Season Two

  THE BULLETPROOF ADVENTURES OF DAMIAN STOCKWELL

  Horror in Honduras

  Terrors of Tesla

  The Mechanical Menace

  DADS VERSUS

  Dads Versus The World

  Dads Versus Zombies

  OTHER BOOKS

  Tortugas Rising

  SHORT STORIES

  Commando Pandas

  About the Author

  Benjamin Wallace lives in Texas where he complains about the heat.

  You can email him at: contact@benjaminwallacebooks.com

  To learn about the latest releases and giveaways, join his Readers’ Group. Click here to sign up.

  If you enjoyed Watch Your Junk and Other Advice for Expectant Fathers please consider leaving a review. It would be very much appreciated and help more than you could know.

  Thanks for reading, visiting, following and sharing.

  -ben

  Find me online here:

  BenjaminWallaceBooks.com