This evening, after stopping in at Hamburger Mary's for a couple of beers, This Man found myself at a spaghetti dinner hosted by my son's after school program. Don't be alarmed, I wasn't drunk nor did I have anywhere near a buzz that would've been needed to make it through that program. However, I did manage to pull myself together and once again morph back into the responsible father that I'm supposed to be whenever I'm at his elementary school. The spaghetti was bland (one would think for a fin the food could've been somewhat tasteful) and I left there even more hungry than when I showed up. I'm still not sure whether or not D actually wanted me there because once I showed up, he said hello and disappeared into the crowd of his Ritalin-fueled buddies, leaving me to fend for myself.
So what's a man to do, right?
Rather than mingle with the other parents, This Man found a table at the back and decided to check out the fathers. And I have to say, there were some cuties in that cafeteria! Unfortunately, for This Man, so were their wives--and other children. Ain't that a bitch!

Two hours of listening to a bunch of children mumble their way through some Christmas carols, a plate of bland spaghetti and not a drop of alcohol within a 2 mile radius, This Man settled in to the fact that sometimes I have allow myself to be tortured for my son's sake. I mean, he may not appreciate it now, but I'm pretty sure a few years down the line, he'll recall my being there.

(photo of This Man taken by my son)
Mahalo