Why I Want To Come Back In My Next Life as a Dad!
by Ashley Trexler
Aren’t you just a little curious? About how the other half lives?
No, not the rich half. I’m talking about the half on the other side of your bed. The half with a penis.
I’m jealous. So jealous.
Not of the penis, but of what it must feel like to sleep through an entire night, worry-free. To not jump at the slightest noise, or feel compelled to crack an eye open towards the baby monitor every hour, just to make sure my child’s chest is moving.
I want to snore, dammit.
Won’t someone let me snore? The answer is a big, fat “No!” That’s why, in my next life, I want to come back as a dad. I’m pretty sure moms have the sweeter deal, when all is said and done…but the chance to sleep soundly, through an entire night, just one more time? Bring on the beer-belly and weird bodily functions.
I’d do just about anything for a decent night’s sleep.
Here are a few Manly Talents I’m looking forward to testing out in my next life, as a Dad:
The Selective Smeller: When asked about the curious smell emanating from the closet, a dad will invariably say, “Really? I don’t smell anything.” Mom then gets to dig through every. Single. Thing in the closet, to finally discover a rotting bag of cheese cubes in a forgotten coat pocket (true story).
But throw away a burger wrapper in the trash can (some days you just need junk food), and that same man, incapable of smelling 2-week old rotting dairy, will hunt down the source of the fast food smell like a bloodhound in heat.
This mom would love to be able to turn her nose off. Think off all the unpleasantness we could avoid; diaper changes, vomit, dog messes, just by saying, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t smell anything!”
Tune-Out Mode: As a mom, I’m great at tuning out whiny kids. Everyone else? Well, let’s just say I have a hard time saying no. In my “Dad Life,” I’ll get to selectively tune out anyone. It’s gonna be great.
When the schools asks for volunteers, my head will stay down, typing away on my phone. I’ll look up (eventually) and get to say, “Oh, sorry. I was sending a work email. What did I miss? Volunteering for clean-up duty? Oh, shoot! Next time.”
I’ll tune out my wife/girlfriend/partner, when she asks me to repair the leaky faucet. “Couldn’t hear anything over the coffee maker this morning, honey. Sorry.” (Right, because it’s not like we have a conversation every single morning…over the coffee maker.)
Sleep of the Dead: In my “Dad Life,” I’ll be He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. No, not the Harry Potter villain, but the one that can snore right through your kid’s middle of the night shenanigans.
It’s a Manly Talent, to be able to sleep a full night during the trip that is Parenthood.
Sleeping undisturbed won’t only happen at night. I’ll be able to sleep on the couch, during the day. With hyped-up kids who are investigating knife drawers while banging on pots and pans, I’ll just stretch out on the couch, fling one arm over my eyes, and get a little shut-eye.
Seriously, that takes talent. Manly Talent.
The Player: I’ll get to be a player. Not the hip-hop kind – the kid kind. When asked to play a game, I’ll say, “Sure!” not, “Sorry, honey. I have to vacuum.”
I’ll play trucks, dolls, and dress-up. The house will be a mess, but I won’t care. Dishes will stay in the sink, hair will clog the sinks, but it won’t matter. I will always choose an epic fort-building adventure over scrubbing toilets.
This is one of the best Manly Talents. The ability to set aside minor demands, and just live in the moment.
I think I need to practice this one more, in my Mom Life. Except I don’t have time, which brings me to the final, and awesomest, Manly Talent:
Pooping in Silence: Okay, this last one has me really excited. I will get to – are you ready for it – go to the bathroom ALONE.
There will be no one with me. No kids, dogs, stuffed animals, or food. There will be no noise, no arguing, no sudden announcements of starvation, after I’ve pulled my pants down.
I will simply enter the bathroom of my choice, lock the door (no interruptions, please), sit down, and take my time. I might bring some reading material, ‘cause it can get boring in there, all by my lonesome.
Alone. I will be alone. In a bathroom.
I may never come out.
It’s A Wonderful Life
I’m looking forward to coming back as a dad, in my next life.
I forgot a few pesky daily details, though, like providing for my family, being a role model to my children, supporting my partner, and heading to a job every day that I may (or may not) enjoy.
Hmmm…maybe my next life as a dad won’t be quite as easy as I’d hoped.
We’ll just have to find out, but at least I won’t be sleep-deprived when making important life decisions.
Like which bathroom to use.