The Supposed Brain Softening Powers of the Happy Light.

I’m generally a pretty happy guy. But in the midst of a long grey winter, I can get a little down. To be honest, I can get quite depressed at times. My wife claims that I suffer from that seasonal depression disorder. It apparently has something to do with not getting enough sunlight. My sister in-law recommended a special light that supposedly mimics the sun’s light, so my wife acquired one. It is now referred to, by my wife and kids, as “Dad’s happy light.”

I’m not sure if it helps or not, but my wife seems convinced that it does. In fact, she seems to think it will do more than just help with my seasonal depression.

I have noticed that if we have any sort of disagreement, she will at some point after the argument, switch the light on, and point it at me as if it will change my opinion on our disagreement . . . and I think she believes she’s being subtle about it. I have even noticed that as I sit in the glow of the happy light, she will periodically bring up different points of our argument as if to see if the light had softened up my brain and made me see things her way yet, much like a baker checking a cake in the oven. I think she is over-estimating this light’s ability to fix all my perceived faults.

The other night we were the playing a trivia game that required players to have a vast knowledge of current children’s TV shows. My ignorance on the subject was causing my wife and I to get beaten quite soundly by our two girls. So in the middle of one of our turns, my wife got up, and moved the happy light over in front of me and switched it on. I think she actually believed that the happy light would somehow unlock a cache of forgotten Kid TV facts in my brain, or that it might transfer the question’s answers to me through its bright glow. Now I’m skeptical on whether the Happy light will change my opinion during an argument, but I’m certain it will not transfer trivia answers to my brain.

My daughters are quick to pick up on the concept of the light, as well. If I were to come home from work and find them burning our furniture in the middle our living room, all I would have to say is, “umm, I’m not sure this is the best idea, girls . . .”  and they both would reply in unison, “JEEZE-O-PEETS, SOMEONE NEEDS TO GO SIT INFRONT OF HIS HAPPY LIGHT!!!” It’s as if my not thinking they should set fire to furniture in our home is unreasonable, and that the happy light would make me somehow more agreeable to it.

I’m starting to think this light isn’t even supposed to help with the disorder . . . if  I even have a disorder. I think that maybe it’s just a prop that is used by my family to make me think that depression is the only possible reason that I would ever question their logic and reason.

 

If you enjoyed this ridiculous story, there is a whole book full of them waiting for you at Amazon:

Single Family Asylum

 

 

What it means to be a Dad.

Being a dad means vomit on the front of your shirt, poop on your hands, and magic marker on the walls. It means late night fevers, tools found rusting on the lawn, throw and catch lessons with future major leaguers, tea parties with princesses, science projects that are beyond Einstein’s capabilities, wicked arguments, pride beyond what words can express, anger that’s hard to contain, countless worries, and love beyond measure.

Being a dad means I would do anything to help you become the best you that you can be, even if you don’t like me for making you strive to be that better person.

Being a dad means hoping that when all the battles of strong wills pass, I will still get a hug and an “I love you, Dad.”

Happy Father’s Day!!!

Situational Ownership Between Father and Daughter.

It’s my daughter’s cat until it’s time to change the litter box.

It’s my car when it needs gas.

It’s her pizza until the leftovers need to need to be put into the refrigerator.

It’s her laptop up until it needs a new hard drive.

It’s her phone charger ….. In fact, they are all her phone chargers, and mine is always the one that is lost, even though I have never actually unplugged and moved it from outlet nearest to my spot on the couch.

Parenting Life Hack #74.

in this new age of tech, I often find myself parenting via text. This is fine for most parenting communication, but texts seem to lack the ability to convey passion when arguing with my children with this form of communication.

So now I keep this photo that my daughter took of me in the midst of a fatherly butt chewing in my phone’s gallery to send along with texts such as, “I SAID NO!!!!” or “YOU ARE GROUNDED!!” or “GET HOME NOW!!!”.

A Parking Lot Drama.

Act One.

Scene One.

Husband inside the driver’s seat of car, wife standing outside the passengers door with hand on handle.

Wife: “Unlock it.”

Husband: “I did.”

Wife: “No you didn’t.”

Husband: “Yes I did, you lifted the handle when I hit the button.”

Husband hits unlock button.

Husband: “There.”

Wife: “It’s still locked.”

Husband: “You did it again.”

Wife: “No I didn’t.”

The end.