Saturday, September 1, 2007
I’d always hoped that if my life had to turn into a Michael Keaton movie, it would be “Batman.” Or at least “Night Shift” (thank you Internet Movie Database). But somewhere deep down I always knew my Michael Keaton movie would be “Mr. Mom.”
Well, Diana’s recovery from ear surgery isn’t the yellow brick road we’d hoped. She’s pretty out of it. Having a grown man poke around inside her ear canal has given her a big plate of nausea. With a side salad of vertigo. Fingers crossed it will go away shortly. But she can’t sit upright without Carnies strapping her into the Tilt O Whirl. And that leaves me…(cue dramatic music) wholly in charge of the boy!
I’ll admit I was a little weary of being parent #1. Diana is the sole reason we have such a great baby. She’s hoisted the entire family on her hippie shoulders. I like to think of my parental role is that of Don Rickles on The Tonight Show. Swoop in, make ‘em laugh and get out before Joan Embery from the San Diego Zoo comes on.
But as of Thursday, I’ve been in the hot seat. Luckily, I was born under a good sign and Elijah is currently in a “I’ll laugh at anything” stage. Dad saying “Boo?” Hilarious. Dad pouring food into Grover’s bowl? Riotous. Dad getting poo all over his hands? Stop please, my gut is busting.
So, please put some extra love Diana’s way. I hate to see her like this.
p.s. If Eli is reading this in the year 2022 he’ll have no idea who Michael Keaton, Johnny Carson, Don Rickles or Joan Embery are. Poor guy.