Desperate House Dad is a hilarious, feel-good story that delves into the day-to-day trials and tribulations of raising children, but all from the unique perspective of a stay-at-home dad.
Desperate House Dad a hilarious, feel-good story about a familyís decision to have the father stay at home to care for the children. It also touches upon the social stigma attached to being a stay-at-home dad, as well as the momís difficult emotions in having to miss out on being a stay-at-home mom.
The journey begins with a day care incident that pushes the young family into the tough decision of having one of the parents stay at home to raise their children. For financial reasons, the father is the one who decides to stay at home, thus beginning the tough transition from working on his career to caring for their children. It then delves into the reaction from family and friends since there is still a social stigma attached to being a stay-at-home dad. It then follows the family through the day-to-day grind of watching one child, their decision to have another, the birth of their second child, caring for two children, and the difficulty of going back into the workplace after nine years of staying at home. It also adds slide splitting humor into the decision of buying a mini-van, joining a stay-at-home dadís club, taking a child to church , visiting the pediatrician, getting the kidsí pictures taken, and having a vasectomy. I am sure that, after having read Desperate House Dad, readers will have laughed, cried, and related to all the experiences shared in raising children.
One Friday night, during the very end of her pregnancy, my wife comes up to me calmly as Iím watching a ballgame and says, ďMy water broke.Ē
Being the detective that I am, I say, "Don't worry, I'll get you a new one," as I make my way to the fridge to get her another bottle of water. Then it hit me whatís really happened. I don't know if itís the Evil Death Stare my wife is giving me, or the fact that Iím now standing in two feet of water in the living room. Either way, I increase the Baby Alert status to DEFCOM1, which means itís time for me to run around like a chicken with its head cut off while my wife screams in agony. After about 1000 phone calls to find a babysitter for Steve, I still haven't found anyone, or at least anyone who doesn't have a life and is home on a Friday night and actually sober. Finally we get hold of a neighbor who so graciously offers to watch him so that my wife doesn't have to give birth in the two feet of water in the living room.
Itís now about 12:00AM and we are off to the hospital. The problem is that we live about forty minutes away from the hospital, and itís pitch black out and what seems like a Tropical Storm is passing by. Add that stress plus my wife yelling and swearing at the top of her lungs at the very painful contractions sheís having, all the while digging her nails deeper into the dashboard, and Iím also on edge. I start to wonder if Armor All can actually take fingernail marks out of the dash when the screaming is getting unbearable. At one point during the race to the hospital, Jenny turns to me and yells, "Why the hell have you stopped?!"
I don't know if itís the torrential rain, terrible screams, or lack of sleep, but I, against my better judgment, state, "Honey, I think cops tend to frown upon people going through red lights."
I then go on to explain that, in fact, State law explicitly states that running red lights is not only quite dangerous, but could result in a stiff penalty and possible jail time. I think I make a convincing argument, and am quite proud of myself, when I turn to look at my wife again. What I saw and heard next is difficult to describe, but just think of that lady in The Exorcist when her head turned 360 degrees and she started to speak in tongues. Just the thought of that still makes me cringe, so at that point I decide to just floor it, to hell with the consequences.