Hung Over with Kids: Part II

There are three things that I want to do when I am hung over. They are as follows: 1) Lay on the couch all day, until guilt or necessity propels me forward. 2) Eat McDonalds French Fries and wash them down with the largest Coke they sell. 3) Have delightfully lazy sex. There was a time in my life when all of my wildest Hang Over Dreams could come true. That time was before children. On the bright side, I was reasonably sure that I could get my son on board with the McDonalds part of the plan.

Sex is completely off the table. For some reason, my wife has difficulty getting in the mood while holding a 5 month old in her arms. For me it was our son careening through the house with not one but two light sabers engaged a vicious and loud duel with the cunning (and invisible) Darth Vader. Assuming we surmount those obstacles there is also the issue of privacy as it's hard to use the bathroom without our son barging in to ask questions like " Ummm....Have you seen my Spiderman Mask? Dad....It really stinks in here."

I can only imagine the interruptions if by some miracle, my wife and I were to go upstairs. We would soon hear his steps on the stairs and then hear him grabbing at the door knob.

"What are you guys doing?"

"Can I help?"

He starts knocking on the door and jiggling the cheap brass door knob.

"Ummm...my power ranger, the red one....he's fighting my alligator."

He then realizes he's locked out.

"Mom.....you shouldn't lock the door."

"Mom...are you OK?"

"Dad...(he's thinking of something else to say)...Ummm Dad...I love you."

If all that wouldn't kill your Mojo, then you are more motivated or desperate than I. Having seen all this in my mind's eye, I knew there was no way in hell there would be Hangover Booty.

Well, at least there's the couch and glorious HDTV. Only the couch didn't really work out either. I abandoned that after Jonathan vaulted over it in an attempt to get the upper hand on his nemesis. When he saw me get up, the torrent of talking began.

Daddy....D-A-D-D-Y (he spells it out now too) do you want to play light sabers?

Dad, Dad, DADDY! Look at this Hot Wheel ...isn't it Crazy!

Mom, watch this!

Guys! Look at Me!

Hey, I farted!

Dad....can you fix this?

Can...Ran...THAT RHYMES!!!!

Dad Dad Dad Dad Daddy DADDY, D...A...D...D...Y

Mom.....(a long pause, as again he's run out of things to say)...I love you.

There was only one thing left to do. I grabbed my keys. "Hey Jonathan, do you want to grab some McDonalds?" Of course he did, and so we went. Half an hour later, with my greasy fingers clutching the 48oz tub they served my drink in, I slupped the last drops of ice cold sugary goodness. I was feeling better.

Jonathan stared at me from across the table. "Hey Daddy....now can we play light sabers?"