Making The Man: J-Fed Reinvents Himself

Apparently J-Fed realized his image needed a serious makeover. Either that or he’s out to prove that no matter what he does, I’ll still find something to complain about. Or there’s the outside chance he might have unknowingly gotten struck by lightning. I’m not sure which of the following is responsible for his image overhaul but something has happened.

I didn’t have great expectations for this weekend, at least not when it came to the amount of assistance J-Fed would provide. He promised to lend a helping hand, but I wasn’t holding out my hopes. After all, he’d promised to love, honor and obey. And to be quite frank, he may have made a half-ass attempt at two of the three, but there were times when he’d fallen short.

Yet in the span of three days, he managed to do more than he’d done in three months. It was mind-boggling. We got off to a rough start when Friday he promised he’d be there at 4 p.m. to pick up daughter. Five turned to six turned to six thirty when he came strolling in from getting his engine revved. His go-cart engine…

He greeted daughters with open arms and swept them off to Bachelor Pad Boulevard. For two whole hours, they were all his. I embraced the sound of silence and sat in my bed for 120 minutes without having to do anything for anyone. I hadn’t had a grin this sheepish since the last time my cooking gave J-Fed a case of serious heartburn.

At 8:30 p.m. I swung by his apartment to retrieve baby. He promised to bring 5-year-old home first thing in the morning. And sure as the sun rises, he had her home in time for dance lessons… and he came bearing gifts. Upon his arrival he handed me a piping hot Egg McMuffin. If it hadn’t been tightly wrapped, I would have inspected it for arsenic. But seeing that I was still alive an hour later, I wondered to what I owed this good fortune. They say beware of Greeks bearing gifts. Not J-Fed’s not Greek, but I was leery nonetheless.