Little Boys in Dad Suits

An Epiphany

To the couple that invited us to their kid’s birthday party last weekend! Brad and Emily.

Or wait, was that the name of the couple we met, with the dad who was super into Man City? Like, too much. Like, this seriously can’t be your entire personality. Yes, I know I complemented your jersey in the first place but come. the. fuck. on.

Yeah, that was definitely Brad. Wife seemed nice enough though. Emily, or whatever. Seemed patient with Brad; big, exaggerated eyerolls, like what can you do?

Kevin!

Was it Kevin?

And Gretchen? Kevin and Gretchen?

Christ, who am I kidding? I have no idea what your names are. I don’t even remember your kid’s name.

To the family who lives two blocks south of us, on Gaylord, the ones who invited us to your daughter’s Space Unicorn-themed fourth birthday party, on Saturday, October 12^th: thank you.

Thank you for the invite. We had a lovely time.

Which was shocking. Never in a million years how I thought it was going to go down. I’m actually pretty surprised I’m writing you this letter right now. I think this may constitute what our couple’s counselor Vivian calls a breakthrough.

She keeps telling me to write things down, so that I can contribute to our sessions, instead of kind of just sitting there with my mouth open. But I never have. Until now. And if I’m being honest, it feels pretty good. Way better than our actual sessions.

Every time we go in, I swear to god, the exact second we take our seats, Vivian always goes, “Well, what would you like to discuss today?” And then she turns to me. Doesn’t even glance at Jenny. Just stares daggers right at me. And then Jenny turns to me too. And it’s like did you two plan this?!

And they just keep staring, and I start feeling cornered, and self-conscious, and after a minute or two I just check out. My mind goes completely AWOL. If you were to do a cat scan of me in that moment it would just be an old episode of DuckTales playing on the inside of my skull. Then suddenly I’ll come to, and Vivian is blinking at me, and Jenny’s got her arms crossed, and you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to read that body language.

But this. This feels different. This feels like contributing.

I want you to know this has nothing to do with you, Maybe Kevin and Gretchen. It’s what you represent.

Forced socialization. The imposed hang.

Ever since we had Maddie, I’ve found myself painted into this corner of having to forge relationships with people who have kids around the same age as my kid. At Maddie’s school drop-off. At the playground, at swim lessons, and music lessons. All the other parents always seem so happy to be chatting away, like there’s nowhere else in the world they’d rather be; but I can think of one hundred places I’d rather be. It’s all so awkward, and lame. Why do I have to pretend to be BFF’s with some guy in a Wilco t-shirt just because we had sex in the same calendar year?

But I can tell Jenny wants to be part of that. Like maybe she’s actually been waiting her whole life to be part of that. So, I want that for her. I really do. I want her to be happy, and to keep having sex with me.

So, when Jenny came out while I was mowing the lawn and said we’re going to a birthday party, I didn’t bitch and moan, I just said, okay. Let’s go. Whose birthday is it?

And she said Maybe Kevin and Gretchen.

And I said who are Maybe Kevin and Gretchen?

And she said, you know, Maybe Kevin and Gretchen, who live in that new build on Gaylord. We say hi to them on walks. They have the black lab.

And there’s like thirteen black labs in our neighborhood, so I was just like whatever, let me get my hoodie.

Then we got to the party. And I don’t know if maybe I’m getting soft in my old age or something, but the second we walked into your party, Maybe Kevin and Gretchen, this feeling came over me. This feeling like maybe this isn’t so bad after all. Like maybe I can actually do this.

I think it was that tree that did it. That old cottonwood. I had totally forgotten about that tree. It was so massive you used to be able to see it from our backyard. Me and Maddie used to watch its leaves flicker in the wind; every fall I’d show her how they turned yellow. We loved that tree. Then one day it was just gone. And I remember getting mad, talking shit about whoever would take down an old tree like that. After a while, though, I guess I just stopped thinking about it; and pretty soon I had forgotten it entirely. But suddenly there it was, in your backyard, on its side. This massive, beautiful tree.

Maybe Kevin saw me admiring it, and he was like, “Yeah, when the wind took that sucker down, me and Maybe Gretchen were devastated. But I was like, ‘Well let’s see what we can do with this thing! It’s been here, like, 90 years, be a shame to just chop it up.’”

And then Maybe Kevin starts showing me how they turned it into this, like, ground treehouse for their daughter. And he starts giving me a tour, opening all these cool trap doors, and windows, and explaining how it’s entirely hollowed-out, like some woodland critter clubhouse you’d see in a kid’s book. And of course, Maddie’s eyes pop out of her head, and she’s inside that tree trunk in a matter of seconds, playing and laughing with all the other kids. And I start to think oh great I’m a shitty dad because I wouldn’t even know how to start to make something like this, but Maybe Kevin must have been picking up what I was putting down, because he said, “Thank god Maybe Gretchen’s brother is a general contractor; I can barely hammer a nail into a board.”

Hear that, brother.

That’s when I caught Jenny out of the corner of my eye. She was standing by the refreshments table, talking to Maybe Gretchen and another mom whose name I don’t know. They all seemed so engaged, you know? So locked in. The autumn light was perfect, absolutely perfect, and it was warm out, but there was also that first hint of cool in the air, like you could almost feel winter on the breeze.

And I noticed that they had pizza from that spot Jenny loves. The Detroit-style place. They didn’t go to Domino’s or Pizza Hut. They sprung for the good stuff. And I thought, I bet Jenny is going to be so psyched they have that pizza; then I swear in that exact moment I clocked Jenny clocking the pizza, and I saw her face light up. She put her hand on maybe Gretchen’s forearm, and they shared their mutual love for that pizza place, and they laughed at the coincidence. Just heads back, full-throated laughter. Jenny was smiling from ear to ear, and she looked so beautiful in that moment I thought I was going to cry.

At this point I was worried I was having a seizure or some shit, so when Maybe Kevin was like do you want a beer?, I was like yeah, dog, fucking beer me ASAP. And Maybe Kevin hits me with a tall boy from this hot shit brewery, tells me how it won a medal at last year’s Great American Beer Festival or whatever, and how he’s hooked on the stuff. So, I open it and take a rip, and I swear to god it was the most delicious sip of beer I’ve ever had in my entire life. Like, on my deathbed, I’ll be thinking about that sip.

Then Maybe Kevin excused himself and I just stood there, drinking this delicious beer, listening to Maddie shriek with joy inside that treehouse, hearing my wife’s happy laughter as she chatted by the cooler full of LaCroix. And it all felt pretty alright, you know?

At this point Maybe Kevin and Gretchen’s black lap comes up to me and starts nuzzling my hand, and looking up at me with these big, wet eyes. So, I was like, alright, fine, and I started petting him. Then he rolled over in the grass, showing me his belly, like, more please! And like I said I must have been feeling some kind of way, because I sat down with him, right there in the grass, crisscross apple sauce, and started rubbing his belly. Just sitting there alone, petting this dog, drinking this beer.

And I started looking around at all the other dads, making small talk with each other, and suddenly the years started to peel away, like I was time traveling or something; and suddenly I could see all of those dads as the little boys they once were. Like, I could actually see it. And I could see how now, they’re still the same little boys, but they’re just, like, pretending to be dads. Like they’re doing an act, hoping that they don’t get caught. And I felt this overwhelming feeling of love for them right then. Because they reminded me of the kids I grew up with, the same kids I used to ride bikes with; they reminded me of my friends. Looking at those dads, in that backyard, I could see them as kids, snagging Victoria’s Secret catalogues out of the mail, I could see them putting some kid’s fingers in warm water because they fell asleep at an overnight. And even though they’re grown up now, and have jobs, and beer guts, and receding hair lines, they’re still just those same little boys, you know? Little boys in dad suits, doing the best that they can.

And they’re all probably just as terrified as me that they’re going to fuck their kids up. It probably keeps them up at night sometimes too. So, they just keep telling their kids that they love them again and again; and they try to, like, be around as much as possible, way more than their dads ever were; and when their kids are little assholes, they don’t hit them, or scream at them, they tell them they’re sorry that they’re feeling frustrated. They teach their kids it’s okay to feel things.

And yeah, some of these little boys who are now dads are finance chodes, and honestly just kind of talk to hear themselves talk, but so what? They’re still just people, right? And it doesn’t kill me to make small talk, or even just let them talk at me for a few minutes if that’s what they need. Especially if the pizza’s delicious and the beer is good. I can do that. Right? And I realized that if the dads are feeling this way, holy shit, the mom’s are probably feeling the same way too!

At this point I must have been in some sort of fugue state, because the next thing I know Jenny was telling me it’s time to go. I was mid-conversation with some dad about those roundabouts they’re putting in along 14^th Street, when Jenny’s like, find your hoodie, get the diaper bag, we should get going.

I thanked Maybe Kevin for the good time, and he offered me a beer for the road, and then Jenny was like, you got two of them bad boys? And duh Maybe Kevin did, so Jenny takes one, and cracks it open right there, and we headed out. And on the walk home, while we sipped our road soldiers, and Maddie bounced her little rainbow ball from the party favors, Jenny grabs my hand, puts her head on my shoulder, and just kind of sighs happily.

And we walked home the whole way like that.  

So, thank you, Maybe Kevin and Gretchen. Great party. Five out of five stars. Would eat here again. When it’s Maddie’s birthday, I’ll be sure to tell Jenny to invite you guys. If there’s room, of course. Maddie’s nuts about Urban Jump, and their party package prices are insane. You get five friends at the base level, and then if you push beyond that, it’s $250 more, per hour. Not even kidding.

We’ll see if your kid makes the cut come March. Who’s to say? Maddie shuffles the ole friend-deck so much I honestly can’t keep track. One week this girl’s her best friend, the next week it’s an entirely different person. I mean, you know how kids are at this age.

I guess we all do, huh?

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November Shows!

Not a ton of shows this month, as I’m in Atlanta being super fancy and important, but I have a few at the very end of the month that I’m really excited for! Starting with my one-man show Happy Place, at the Buntport Theater in Denver.

November 29 - Denver, Happy Place - Buntport Theater - Tix

Then the very next day, it’s the Grawlix! Home for the Holidays edition, always one of the best shows of the year. You never know who is going to drop in!

November 30 - Denver, Grawlix - Bug Theater

Then it’s on to December but I’m plugging a few shows here, in the November entry, because I’m that excited. I’m doing my one-man show Happy Place in NYC! At the newly reopened UCB Theater, in the East Village. I could seriously use some help getting butts in seats for this one, so pretty pretty please tell your NYC buds.

December 4, 5 - New York City, Happy Place - UCB Theater - Tix

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The Monthly Clip

I taped a Don’t Tell. You can see the whole set on YouTube here. But here’s a clip from the set. CAREFUL! It’s a banger.

Goddamn, great joke, Adam. Way to go.

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Thanks so much for reading, everyone. I’m really enjoying writing these. Hope you like reading them. If so, please share and help spread the word!