Father Never Knows

I have reflected this week on fatherhood. Probably the outcropping of my eldest, Andy’s, visit to Texas last week. My reflections focused on the interesting times we all experienced in the formative years…the years when they were younger…and slightly more leech-like.

Andy has many interesting chapters. There was the “drive-by rocking” incident. We arrived home one evening to find the police department out front. Andy was in the early teens and the officer was questioning him. I approached and was told that Andy called police because some rogue car drove by and a person launched a rock through the front window of our house. The officer said he needed a few more minutes with Andy. Fine, I said. After a bit of a grilling, Andy admitted that he was playing hacky-sack and kicked the bean bag though the front window. Thought he might deflect some punishment if a mythical attacker was added to the story.

Andy also got three days off in junior high for “sexual harassment.” That caught my eye. Upon further review I was less upset. Between classes, he walked up to a girl and pulled an envelope out of his backpack and did his best Carnac imitation. “I can divine the color of your under panties,” he said. “They are pink!” Apparently he was right, and the girl reported his accuracy to the principal. Three days for sexual harassment.

Doug also got three days once for an incident in art. He told a classmate he would pay him five bucks if he drank the paint they were using on a canvas. The fellow must have been hard up for cash because he took the paint and chugged it in one gulp. Apparently it was lead based and a poison expert was called. Doug’s defense was pretty convincing-----“I didn’t drink poison….I merely offered to pay someone to poison themselves.” He was irate when the victim was not punished (with the exception of getting his stomach pumped) and Doug got the suspension.

Doug was also the master of prank calls, actually recording them and offering a “Best of Doug” for friends to listen to his handiwork. There was the time he called the brake shop while acting like he was driving a car without brakes…..the time he called a fella late at night using an Italian accent asking about the size of the man’s car trunk…and how many bodies did he think could fit in it? And of course the classic---calling a technology business while he was obviously defecating. I didn’t say this was high brow stuff----but apparently funny enough for his CDs to be in demand. I never listened to them to protect myself.

For the most part Alex has been the typical “baby in the family” and stayed out of mischief. I do recall one Saturday night while we lived in Fairfield when he wanted to go out to a farmhouse for a party. The next day, a Sunday, he was very sluggish around the house. I had a strong suspicion he had been drinking the night before. So it was no surprise when I got a call from the principal at the high school the next day saying I should come and get him----that he had passed out in math. When I got to the office the principal (a lovely woman) and her female athletic director were feeding him crackers and holding a hot compress to his head. They knew I was diabetic…and obviously feared he had suffered a low blood sugar moment. I knew better.

“Get you’re a$$ into the car,” I said and watched the shock on their faces. When he was out of earshot, I calmly explained that he was suffering from a self-imposed malady---a forerunner to swine flu---that came from exposure to a bottle.

I dearly love them all….but my sons have many inbred rascal tendencies.

I think they have fallen victim to one overwhelming law of nature.

Heredity.