An Insane Tidbit

I’m well aware I’m responsible for most of my children’s unhinged behavior, as evidenced by the following episode.

At just after six p.m. the other day I finished brushing my teeth and had already changed into pajamas and was positively giddy at the prospect of going to bed before seven.

My son and I were battling a mild cold and needed to get to sleep early, while my daughter was busy dressing for her way too late in the evening soccer practice.

Amidst the chaos, and apropos of nothing, I asked my daughter, “Hey, what’s it feel like to have a dad?”

Before she could answer I doubled over with laughter, at which point she eyed me with a devastating combination of contempt and pity. While I delighted in my insanity, my daughter relayed the absurd question to her mother—my dear, despairing wife—who described my comment as, “Terrible.”

“Well, Dad thinks it’s hilarious,” my daughter retorted.

“Don’t pay attention to your dad. He’s always making jokes that only he thinks are funny.”