-or not...
-whatever jerk!
This year I was able to check off the next milestone in fatherhood and put together the infamous Christmas Eve bike. Yes, we got my oldest daughter a slick new chopper complete with training wheels, pegs, and a punk rock paint job (insert screaming guitar wankery here).
And holy crap did her eye's pop out of their cranial sockets coming down the stairs Christmas morning. She couldn't wait to take her new hog out on the road.
I of course did what every responsible father would do and put her in the middle of the street on her bike, in her owl P.J.'s, with absolutely no safety gear (she's a kid and kids are indestructible, right?).
She pressed down on those pedals as hard as she could, got those wheels spinning, and went...absolutely nowhere. Fad Dail. Dad Fail. Dail? Fad? I'll go with Fad! It makes me look hip and ahead of the curve:
-"So Tony, your daughter's bike didn't go anywhere but just turned the back wheel like some sort of junior spinning class and all because you put it together wrong?"
-"Shut your face hole it's a new Fad!"
In my embarrassment I again did what every responsible and trustworthy adult would do, blamed Santa's elves of course! I mean they are the ones who put it together, right? *wink wink*
-"Don't worry Rory, I guess Santa's elves didn't make it right but daddy can fix it for you!"
Wad Din. Dad Win. Wad? Din? I'll just stick with WIN on this one.
Moral of the story:
Parents who feel like Santa gets all the praise, love, and adoration from their kids; just let him take all the heat for a failed gift, fix your own dumb-ass mistake, and come out of it the Christmas Hero!
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