sillyOver the Christmas break, I spent much time with my parents and sister. They watch television almost constantly, so I happened to watch more TV commercials than I'd seen in six months. One series was on parenting, on those absolutely unforgettable moments shared by two married people raising children. Perhaps they had commercials touting other parenting experiences, but I doubt it.
I appreciate two-parent households; I come from one. However, single parenting is wonderful and fantastic as well, and we deserve our own commercials. So here's one of mine:
Cedar Fever had me twisting and shouting under the covers, sweating like a madman. My child came to the side of my bed and asked what was for dinner. 'Dinner!' I thought, 'dinner!' Exhausted from racking coughs, sweaty, jolted from a non-stop headache, I said, "Go ask..."
And stopped right there, mid-sentence. There was no one else to ask. For the first time in either of our lives, this child depended on me alone to stand between her and the wide world. If I did not do, it would not get done.
The epiphany cured me. My headache vanished; my cough stilled and a sudden burst of crackling energy shot through my quivering legs. My watery eyes cleared under my swelling determination to become more man, more parent, simply more than I had ever been. My child grasped my hand and whispered, "you can do it Daddy." I flew out of bed, determined, remade. Bullshit.
The truth is that I rolled over and pretended to be asleep. The kid hopped into bed, jumped on my stomach, and demanded pizza for dinner. Spending money sounded better than standing and cooking. That's single parenting - when the chips are down, when you're desperate, when you're sick and alone, no one stands between you and a mushroom pizza with a side order of Crazy Bread on a school night.