There is a member of my family, who I shall not name, that takes every opportunity possible to make comments about how lazy I am, or how I don't really do anything. Neither of which is true.

See, I do my fair share of work, for at least 11 hours a day, 5 days a week. 2-3 hours on the weekends. The point of confusion seems to be the fact that I don't get a paycheck, therefore I don't "work".

And while it does get to be irritating, at the end of the day I know I've done something important and worthwhile for my son, my wife, and myself.
Anyone that really knows me and can't realize that can kiss my skinny white ass.

Its no fun to belt out a supper massive burp if there's nobody around to hear it.

Well, OK, its still kinda fun.

We watched this critter for a while, then I poked it a few times. Then it jumped onto my arm, crawled up my shoulder, across my neck, then onto my hat, after which I transported it out to the wild flower garden.

The son thought the whole process was awesome.

Its kinda weird to have an ex-girlfriend as a friend on Facebook. Granted, it was nearly 20 years ago, but still, its weird. Good ol internets. Hi Denise!

Attack on Obama riles Beck's advertisers - Yahoo! News

Oh wow, its taken people this long to figure out that he's a total douchebag? Maybe he should start drinking again.

"Hey Chase, I need to use the potty for a few minutes, K?"
"OK Daddy, I left some pee in there for you."

Um, thanks?

The son and I are driving to the corner store, slush for him, beer for me. We get to an intersection and there's a 2-ish year old girl just walking down the street. In a neighborhood notorious for really bad drivers. There's 4 boys, ages 7-12 running around to. In the fucking street. Did I mention the bad drivers?
OK, and there are no "grown ups" in sight. Not a one.

I give the girl all of a millisecond to get out of the road, or else I was gonna get her. Out of the house comes a guy who looks like he would be a welcome member of the Cops club. Crisis averted, I park my van next to the guys house and stare at him, using every ounce of restraint I had not to get out of the van and have a "confrontation". If my son wasn't in the van, I would probably be in police custody right now.

So the son and I get to the store, slush for him, beers for me. Back home. Ready to pop open a beer, and the glass breaks. OK, another try. 2nd one breaks. At this point I've had enough aggrevation for for a trip that was only supposed to take a few minutes.

Drive back to the store, tell the clerk that the bottles are clearly flawed, can I exchange them for another? Sure. I pick a different 6 pack, show the dude and ask if its alright. Same price, different beer. "Um, sir, could you get the same kind as this?".
No. no no no.

I tell counter guy, in the calmest voice I could muster - "There's no fucking way I'm getting another one of those. I ain't gonna risk slashing my hand for a beer. Just give me this one."
Got the beer. And I walked away with a $1.10 profit.

See that woman in the upper right hand side of the pic? That IS the look I get 90% of the time when I take my son to social events during the day/week.
Doesn't matter if I'm clean shaven and showered, or scruffy looking. Its almost always the same glare.
It used to piss me off, but now I just think its amusing.

Testosterone in the hizzouse biathces.

OK, really, does the fact that my son is going to school 2 1/2 hours a day mean I need to get a "real job"?

I think spending 4 years raising a happy, healthy, vibrant child is the single greatest accomplishment in my life. I have no regrets (Ok maybe some), but this is the most satisfying thing I have ever done. And I'm shocked that I'm actually pretty damn good at it.
But it is a full time job, no matter how you look at it.

Sure, I don't bring in a paycheck, but the savings we have from day-care or baby-sitters pales in comparison to the bond that my son and I have.

And most importantly, when my son runs up to me and says "You're the best daddy ever!", you know what, I'll take that over some career advance any day.

I'm a stay at home dad, and I'm proud of it.

I come into the house after a blissfully quiet of reading a book that doesn't involve talking animals or pictures, to find that our son chewed some gum and then stuck it on the large window in our living room because "he's being SpiderMan!".

Here's where the stay at home parent and the working parent divide is defined. To be blunt, there's some shit that just don't go down on my watch. I'm the badass cop. The one you really don't want to fuck with. My wife, the sympathetic good cop. Its why we make a good team.
Problem is, I'm the one who has to be bad cop mostly ALL THE TIME! I don't enjoy it.
OK, somteimes.

I have "The" finger point and scowl down to a science. Show me the toughest, nastiest, most loathsome person you've ever met, and I can make them whimper and cry by using just my voice and an index finger. Thats all I need. Plus I carry at least 4 very sharp knifes on me at all times (even when I'm sleeping).

Well then, that post kinda went everywhere. Oh well, sometimes you just gotta vent.

I'm pointing at you.