Why We Suck_ A Feel Good Guide to Staying Fat, Loud, Lazy and Stupid - Denis Leary [63]
Men would never do this. Not in college, not in high school. Such an event would never happen even in a grown men's BEER league softball game.
Even if it happened to your twin brother and you were playing first base and you were and always had been bigger than him-in fact, big enough to carry him around the bases all by yourself-you still would not entertain a minuscule amoeba-sized nose hair of a cell membrane of an iota of a smidgen of the NOTION of carrying him because your testicles would not release the required enzymes from deep inside your scrotum.
Your balls would-however-immediately remind you that his home run was now a single and therefore your team was still in the game and the cold, clammy hand of defeat that was balling into a fist somewhere deep inside your chest would unclench and become a fiery desire to, once again, win at any cost.
No pain no gain.
Women see physical shortcomings and wish to heal, fix or make them disappear. They believe in hope, they believe in helping, they believe in making a difference.
Guys? They believe in roast beef.
It's why women seek out special bras and special panty hose and plastic surgery and shoes shoes shoes. Guys? Slap on a dabful of deodorant, a pair of old Nikes and we're pretty much good to go. Women wanna put pink floaties and life jackets and goggles and ear plugs and flippers on kids just before they climb into the baby pool WITH them. Guys? We pick a kid up and toss him into the deep end of the ADULT pool. He swims back up to the surface? He's a keeper. He doesn't? He's either gonna be riding on a very short bus for a very special school due to the brain damage caused by seven minutes of oxygen deprivation or he's taking a long dirt nap while daddy finds another mommy.
Mom says yes-dad says no.
Mom coos and coddles-dad barks and bites and boots you in the ass.
Mom cries with you-dad screams "what the hell are ya cryin' about?"
The yin is mommy telling you how gorgeous and nice and smart you are-the yang is daddy saying get your giant head out of your evil red ass and stop acting like a retard.
There is no such thing as a helicopter dad. Unless your dad is an actual helicopter pilot.
Three words for all the prospective parents out there in America: give it up. Your money, your plans, your wishes, your clean car-all of it. Even your looks. There was a feature story in an American magazine recently showing moms what makeup was best to wear when giving birth. Which outfit to bring to wear home from the hospital. Not for the baby-the mom. You wanna know what my mom wore home? A smock.
Blue smock, white smock, smocky smock, UNsmocky smock-who gives a shit? Is the baby okay? Does it have ten fingers? What about the toes? The heart lungs kidneys liver? These should be your concerns.
I just read an article in People magazine about Jennifer Lopez and her newborn twins. By the way- People magazine reportedly paid six million dollars for exclusive rights to the first photos of J.Lo's two kids, which probably made her jump with joy. Until she found out Brad and Angelina got eleven million for photos of their new twins-man, those box-office figures can sure be a bitch.
Anyway-J.Lo and her hubby Marc Anthony plan to raise the kids with the help of two full-time nurses and a butler. How nice.
You know who the butler was when my kids were small? Me. And "Hey-Butler!" was not amongst the appellations I heard my wife use when she needed me to get a bottle or a box of diapers or a bowl of applesauce.
J.Lo also said "I want to accomplish something this year, something to make my babies proud-like, run a triathalon."
Uh-huh.
You wanna make your babies proud? Stay home. Raise them. Kiss them. Hug them until