Daddy-dipping: Into the eggnog zone

How did I come to write a humor column about the trials and tribulations of being a forty-something father?

Well, I suppose you can trace that back to when I was a teen-ager and my Mom discretely left on my bed a book about the birds and the bees. I think the precipitating event leading to that was my Mom finding a copy of Playboy under the covers.

But that's probably more than you need -- or want -- to know about me.

The reality is that when you're a writer, you write about those things that deeply affect you. And it's hard to imagine anything that's had a more profound affect on me than having a child enter into my life.

My scribblings about the child-rearing process began a little over a year ago with an e-mail I'd written to a friend documenting The Toddler's first professional haircut. Soon thereafter it came time to write the annual holiday letter, which I turned into a poem about our family portrait. I just send out to friends and family my second venture into holiday poetry, so I thought this was an opportune time to bring back last year's poem, which I call Picture Perfect:

Picture Perfect

‘Twas 34 days before Christmas, when into the mall

Entered a toddler, barely two and a half feet tall.

His parents had prepped him with hairspray and buffs,

And then stuffed him with crackers and fruity puffs.

With mama in red sweater, and I in off-white,

We settled into the photo studio, and all seemed all right.

Every hair on the little one was in place,

And he had just the right glow on his face.

Then all of a sudden things took a turn for the worse,

To the plastic snowman and fake snow, the child was averse.

He cried and he cried and he raised such a clatter,

We tried to appease him, but nothing we did seemed to matter.

So I proposed to mama that we just pack it in,

There ’s no way this kid’s gonna let them get one good shot of him.

When the very patient picture lady, in one last desperate shot

Suggested the one thing that I had beforehand sworn, “No way, absolutely not.”

But there we were, sitting as three,

The holiday card version of family.

And to show just how much things change in a year, here's the 2005 version, Tickle-Me-Daddy:

Tickle-Me-Daddy

We had barely recovered from turkey day fun,

When we clothed in cords and rugby our little one.

Then we plastered his hair down in Ken doll fashion.

And crossed our fingers, hoping it was time to finally cash in.

Just to reach this point did not come without debate.

The last time we did this the little one just wouldn’t cooperate.

But a year had since gone by.

Surely it was worth another try.

The family, the friends they all would expect it.

But the question remained: would he sit and not throw a fit?

At his daycare, they tried it just this past fall.
The result? Well, it looked like something you find on a Post Office wall.

So, you might ask, how did we get him to crack that grin you see?

The answer to that question is not a mystery.

A parent will always go that extra mile

Just to get that one little smile.

In this case, the photographer pulled out a well-worn trick.

She made Daddy the target of a tickle stick.

And that is what amused the little one so.

Now you get the picture, along with a hearty ho-ho-ho!