Work, walk a half mile, catch the train, 22-min. ride, walk .7 miles and I'm home. In the fridge there's a beer. Above the fridge there's wine. In-between both of those is a wife and two kids, one of which shouts:
"wanna see my underwear?"
Yeah....marinate on that for a minute world. Every man's dream is to walk in his front door to hear those words from his beautiful wife? Of course in that dream the words are also followed by a variety of other terrific adjectives, verbs, action words, etc....
But on this particular day....it was my 6-year-old son saying that lovely phrase.
My mind kicks into overdrive as I think:
- should I say no to teach him not to ask grown-ups if they want to see his skibbies?
- should I say "wha?" and keep walking quickly towards the mecca of alcohol?
- should I say "sure dude" and uncomfortably hope he's not about to show me some type of unbelievable stain, growth, or whatever...
I chose the latter. And he immediately dropped trow as I clenched and waited. And what did he show - boxer briefs.
"Just like you wear daddy!!!"
The little bastard was so happy to show me that he was wearing the same underwear as me. My heart shattered, I truly felt touched, and I gave the kid a hug.
It's the obscure, subtle things in life that pop out when you least expect it and make you feel like shit for yelling at the kid for not eating his breakfast, or potentially breaking his sister's arm. I felt like a role model for a split second. I imagined my fat-ass on the cover of GQ being oogled by dudes thinking "I'd get so much ass if I looked like that." But alas...it was because I wear the unique and privileged hat of father and in the mornings, put on undies that don't ride up, hold my boys just right, and to my son......look like rock star underwear.