Parenting happens in shifts. I drew the 8am shift this morning. After one false panic alarm, The Hurricane was calm enough to sleep by 8:30, and passed out in my lap like an F.S.U, coed at a frat party.
For the next 90 minutes, all was well. I checked Deadspin, ESPN, and With Leather, and started an MST3K on Netflix online (which by the way, is one of the 3 best things a parent can do for his own sanity).At 10am though, it hit me. I had to pee.
Peeing when one wants to is a privilege parents forfeit. I didn't dare wake Ike, for fear of the tantrum to immediately follow. So I held it in. My back teeth floated for 45 minutes, drowned, and then floated lifeless for another 15. At 11, I could no longer wait, and undertook the bravest operation of my nearly 30 years on the planet: carefully positioning Isaac in my left arm, I steered his sleeping form down the hall and into the bathroom. Using my free hand, I managed to take care of business, wash my hand, and get back to the couch WITH ISAAC STILL ASLEEP.
Oh sure, establishing trade routes was important. And electricity was a great idea. Fire, plumbing, tools, the internet, and internet pornography are all wonderous examples of human ingenuity. But, and I don't think I'm overstating this, none of these things comes even remotely close to the deft brilliance I displayed this morning.
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