I have a confession. It is best that you read it here. This is not the type of information you want to hear on the street. I would rather it come from me than have you read ugly vicious rumors on the internet.
Make sure your kids aren’t in the room. The language could get pretty rough in the next few paragraphs (I may drop the S word). Please don’t judge me, I am only human. I make mistakes just like everyone else.
Okay, there is no way to sugarcoat this, so I will just say it. I have a problem. I am not proud of it, but I’ve been told that admitting it is the hardest part. This is difficult to even say (okay write, work with me here).
I spent two nights this week slumming. I participated in an activity so heinous, so disgusting, and so immoral that it is hard to put into words. Quite frankly, I came home and felt so dirty that I had to shower.
Yes, I was at my daughter’s first two (here is where I drop the S word) soccer practices. And if that isn’t bad enough, she doesn’t even have the decency to hate it. She loves it (and not just a little, a lot). I am thinking about having her tested.
There, it is out in the open. I not proud of this and I don’t expect people to understand.
I have two theories on how this happened. One, I am being punished for some extremely bad behavior in another lifetime. Maybe I sold used cars or insurance in another life. Maybe I was even a lawyer or politician; who knows?
Or theory two and most likely the correct one; this kid that lives in my house, eats my food, and watches my television; she isn’t mine.
I am rolling the dice with this theory. Obviously, my wife hasn’t had the heart to tell me, but it is now so obvious. I should have seen it earlier. It should have occurred to me when she left me hanging and went to see Shrek 3 with her friends, and not me. She isn’t my daughter.
Sure I have raised her as my own, but the gravy train stops here. She needs to get out of my house. I wonder how much she would bring if I put her on EBAY? She is well-behaved, relatively polite, and I am sure there is a nice family out there that actually likes soccer.
If she chooses to go down the wrong path and play a sport in which you can’t use your hands, I can’t stand (actually sit) idly by and watch. It is just too painful.
Maybe I could put her in soccer rehab? She is young and still moldable. Ah, whom I am kidding. I am not spending that kind of money on someone else’s kid.
If you need a new kid, don’t mind answering 112 questions a day, love SpongeBob, enjoy eating at McDonald’s, and want to watch little kids chase a ball for an hour each Saturday morning- make me an offer.
Don’t lowball me though. I have grown attached to her in the last 6 years.