It’s no secret that J-Fed goes to extremes. He likes to race go-cart. So he doesn’t buy just one go-cart – he buys four. He likes to tip well. He doesn’t drop the usual 20% -- he leaves 50%. He gets fed up with being nagged. He doesn’t try to change the complaint-worthy behavior – he ends to the marriage.
So it only goes without saying that when he attempts to be a good dad, he shoots for father of the decade. This is totally relevant to 5-year-old daughter’s recent loss of her first and second tooth. You see, Father Knows Best strives to go above and beyond. For that, we give him a gold star.
However, some of the things he does leave me scratching my head. I understand that now that he has his own place and doesn’t get to spend every waking minute with daughter that he wants them to have things that they do together, things that are special.
That’s great. More power to him. But it goes down something like this… He loves to take daughter swimming every chance he gets. He’s teaching her to dive. He’s teaching her to do laps. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was rearing his own Olympic swimmer. I only know this because these days she looks more like a California raisin than my cute little 5-year-old daughter. I secretly am beginning to wonder if she’s turning into a prune from spending so much time in the water.
Well, the other day I informed J-Fed that I was taking daughter to the pool, and he pitched a fit.
“Noooooooo. You can’t take her swimming. That’s her and I’s ‘thing,’” he protested in horror. Now, I wasn’t trying to infringe on his territory and I had no idea he would take it so personally. Apparently, he did. He was downright adamant about the fact that if 5-year-old went swimming, he HAD to be there.
Now, J-Fed. Let’s be realistic. Daughter poops and pees when she’s here, but do I get upset when she poops and pees at your house? Am I going to tell you that she can’t go to the bathroom when she’s with you because well, that’s her and I’s “thing.” Of course not.
She’s entitled to swim when she wants to swim. As much as you love to play Aquaman with her, there’s no way in hell that it will be humanly possible for her to only swim when you’re around for the rest of her life. One day, she’ll have a boyfriend and she’ll want to swim with him too. And she may want to do it naked. Are you going to be there for that? I doubt it.
Back to the subject at hand – handling the tooth. As it so happened, daughter lost her second tooth over at his house last night. Of course, she lost her first one there too. Lucky for me, I happened to be over there when the first occurred. In fact, we helped her “lose” it when I was overcome with fear that it might fall out when she was asleep and subsequently force her to choke on it.
Before I left his house, I made him swear on his go-carts that he’d remember to put the money under her pillow before he fell asleep. He gave me his word, and in true J-Fed fashion he left $5 under her pillow. $5 you exclaim! That’s right. $5. Like I said, everything in extremes. Whatever happened to $.25 per tooth I wondered. I understand that inflation changes standards over time. But $5 friggin dollars… Come on.
Well, last night he outdid himself. Apparently, her second tooth fell out and this time the tooth fairy left her $9. My God, by the time she loses every tooth in her mouth she’ll have enough money to buy a Porsche or a pony. She better lose every tooth over his house because there’s no way in hell this tooth fairy is leaving $9 under her pillow. For the love of God, I can buy 20 jars of Gerber baby food and feed our infant for a week for the price.
If J-Fed could simply learned a lesson in moderation, my world, and his, would be a much better a place.
It just goes to show that J-Fed can’t handle the tooth, although he really, really tried.