 |
|
|
|
|
Back to school, back to sanity
By Mark W. Mayfield
It's been a long, painful summer, but I'm feeling much better now, thank you. The dense fog of despair that enveloped me since June has finally disappeared. I've regained my will to live. I'm rediscovering the simple pleasures of everyday existence. I'm laughing again. I'm eating again. I'm showering again. I'm using my gas-powered leaf blower as an anti-cat weapon again. (Okay, so I've never actually used my gas-powered leaf blower as an anti-cat weapon, but if a certain neighborhood tom doesn't stop leaving his calling cards in my garage, he'll soon learn the meaning of the term "violent windstorm.") In other words, I'm ME again.
What's responsible for this remarkable transformation? My kids are back in school!
Gone are those awful days of coping with bored, rowdy, noisy, fight-prone offspring who ignored my frequent threats to administer an old-fashioned, biblically approved, this-will-hurt-me-more-than-it-hurts-you butt whomppin'. Now I don't have to see the little angels until they've finished a long, grueling day of school, when they're lethargic, unmotivated and too exhausted to argue--just the way I like 'em.
My all-time favorite television commercial is the one that shows a very happy father filling his shopping cart with back-to-school supplies. As he dances and skips through the store, obviously enjoying the task at hand, his two sullen children watch him with expressions of boundless contempt. If I had written the commercial, the dad would also perform several cartwheels and handsprings to express his unbridled joy. He would then greet other gleeful dads with a few sports-inspired demonstrations of celebration, including forearm bashes, head thumps and chest bumps. My commercial would end with a shot of the still-jolly father dragging his screaming children to their classrooms, where their unhappy teachers are waiting with the same look of contempt that the children displayed in the store.
I firmly believe that back-to-school time is nature's way of rescuing weary fathers from temporary insanity. Please don't misunderstand me, fellow parents. I deeply love my children and truly enjoy spending time with them. In fact, if I had to choose between a weekend fishing trip with a few buddies and a day at the park with my children, I would choose . . . the fishing trip. However, it would be a pretty difficult decision. But if I had to choose between a day at the park with my children and a weekend fishing trip with Jesse Ventura, I can honestly say that the governor would be fishing alone. I firmly believe that back-to-school time is nature's way of protecting me from Jesse Ventura.
This year's festivities were slightly marred by the fact that my teenage daughter became a young woman when I wasn't looking. (Translation: She now has certain physical attributes that attract teenage boys like porch lights attract moths.) Her anatomical back-to-school supplies greatly trouble me because I understand how powerful the allure of a fully equipped female can be. (In fact, I once proposed marriage to one such female). To deal with this situation, I'm installing tiny "dad cams" in my daughter's clothing so I can see which moths . . . I mean, which boys are gazing at her forbidden areas. Those with misbehaving eyes will be invited to our house for "Mr. Mayfield's Special Back-to-School Party and Kickboxing Contest."
Another stressful part of this otherwise joyful season is the high cost of equipping two children for a new school year. As a proud, hardworking American father, I really hate standing on busy street corners with a cardboard sign that reads, "Will work for back-to-school clothes." I firmly believe that back-to-school time is nature's way of emptying my wallet.
|
|
|
|
Sunnyvale, California Since 1994
