Normal dads may take their kids to a nice Mcdonalds lunch. Let them play on the jungle gym a little, maybe make some eye contact with hot mom in the corner looking to trade up. They'll sit there in silence and eat some chicken nuggets, just a little ketchup please, and then perhaps an ice cream cone. Then they'll go home and drop the kid off and brag about how they took the kid all by themselves to lunch. And they'll get credit to.
But us. No, that's not how we roll. That's rookie dad stuff.
Instead we go to a downtown restaurant during the rush hour lunch. 4 dads and 6 kids, 3 of them are toddlers and 3 of them are still in diapers. This is dading at an advanced level.
We rolled into the restaurant, put our names down--yes you heard that right honey, we need three high chairs--and then continued to the bar. The 3 toddlers saddled up to the bar.
"Three shots of milk sweet cheeks, this one's on dad."
We finally get out table and left the bar remarkably intact, just a few thousand sets of silverware that our kids had slobbered on and thrown on the floor. A minor setback, it's true, but nothing that we couldn't handle. This isn't a challenge, this is a walk in the park.
We strolled through the business people talking about business things. Take over a corporation here, bankrupt a rival there--all trivial when compared to taking 6 kids, 3 strollers and enough diaper bags to change every baby in America, to a busy downtown restaurant at noon.
The place got quiet as they stopped their discussions of corporate evil and glanced our way. Oh, I know what they were thinking. They were thinking "What the fuck is this."
This is awesomeness personified, observe and bask in our glory.
We got to our table. We had chosen to implement a 3/2 zone defense, yes even our sports knowledge exceeds yours because what else do we have to do all day other than to analyze sports?
Within seconds the table was set and the kids were placed. No one was out of arms reach. The kids in the highchairs were already seated and munching on chips. Smooth. If you blinked you probably missed how we set this up. It's ok, we hold workshops.
And then we ordered. Just like that. No arguments, no questions, no surprises. My own kid threw a challenge to everyone else in the restaurant. He started downing handfuls of salsa. Carnage everywhere, salsa dripping from his chin and mixing with the tears from his eyes. But he was not crying, they were tears of victory. The gauntlet had been thrown, could the corporate pukes keep up?
They could not.
We were a sight to see, something that perhaps is not normal. A group of dads who are actually good at taking their kids out. A group of dads who aren't hurrying to get home, a group of dads and are ready to show you how it's done.
And then it happened. A lady came up to our table with her camera.
"Oh, I've got to get a picture of this." she said.
Yes baby, get a picture of the gun show passing around a package of wet wipes.
This, my friends, is how stay at home dads roll. Try and keep up.