Being a dad is the most rewarding and fulfilling thing you could ever possibly do, but if you knew what you were getting into beforehand, you’d probably run the other way screaming like a madman.
It’s a weird job description.
“So, Mr. Hill, in this new position you’ll be sleep-deprived for the first few years (if not longer), and you’ll be required to handle human feces regularly, not to mention tons of mucus and other bodily fluids. Oh, and how are you with loud crying? Great, great. And worrying about mortality? Yes, I know you didn’t worry about those things before, but as a ‘Dad’ with our company you’ll do nothing but worry about your death or something happening to your wife or kids. It’s just one of the perks, y’know.”
There are other perks, too.
“Looking at your resume, Mr. Hill, I see you like to watch the news channel and hockey games, as well as play video games late into the night. How do you feel about changing that to Dora the Explorer and The Wiggles for the foreseeable future? You will have to brush up on your Disney princesses too and become familiar with Barbie and all her plastic friends.
“Ha, ha, no, Mr. Hill, you won’t have any control over your TV anymore at all, or your free time… but that’s very funny that you think you will. And no, there won’t be any late-night video gaming for a while either… remember, sleep-deprived… which also means no snugglebunnies for you and the wife until, shall we say, the kids turn 18 and are out of the house? Well, OK that’s negotiable.”
You’re also very much not the mom when you’re a dad.
“So, as ‘Dad’ your immediate supervisor on the job is Mom, who will oversee your performance, and give you helpful feedback, which will come in the form of eye-rolling and heavy sighs. No, Mr. Hill, I am aware of the rumour that you are supposed to be equal in the eyes of the company, but Mom is generally considered to be the primary and better caregiver, and your kids will likely prefer her for the first few years. So let’s just put ‘Not The Mom’ on your nametag, shall we? No, being a stay-at-home dad doesn’t count, I’m afraid. There will still only be Mom and baby groups at the library, and people will question why you have no ‘real career.’
“So, you may be wondering, Mr. Hill, why we want you to take this position, if it seems so chaotic and life-altering? Well, to be frank, it’s awesome beyond anything you can imagine right now. You have the chance to look in the eyes of a person that you helped make… yes, you get to make a real person, Mr. Hill… and that little person will look back at you and call you ‘Dad.’ They’ll rely on you, and learn from you. They’ll want to be with you, and tell you about their day, and Mr. Hill, those little people will want to play with you, and laugh and sing and do all sorts of silly, wonderful things with you, and you’ll feel unconditional love in its purest forms. You’ll get to relive childhood and feel a joy that only parents know. No, Mr. Hill, there is no salary or vacation time, but boy, are there benefits. So? What do you say?”
Even in hindsight, I’d take the job again in a minute. Although I’d probably negotiate more control over the TV and less eye-rolling next time.
