Sometimes, I am a bad dad. Like a really bad dad.
Like last Monday morning when my alarm went off and I was able to start off my day with a big fat parenting fail. I’m calling it Dad Fail #14 for no other reason than that I’m sure that I’ve reported at least 13 other fails to you all since starting this blog. And I like to put numbers on things for some reason.
Anyway, my alarm went off. I had stayed up working late into the night and was coming off of four hours of sleep mixed with three Tylenol PMs that hadn’t come even close to wearing off yet.
The alarm woke Noah up as well and he immediately wandered into my bedroom and climbed into bed with me.
I forced my eyes open (no easy task) and looked at the clock. We were due to leave for school in an hour. My eyes forced themselves closed again. I immediately started drifting back into sleep.
“Dad, wake up!” Noah’s voice burst through my doze. “Don’t we have to get ready for school?”
And then he let out the tiniest little cough. He might have just cleared his throat. I’m not sure.
“Noah are you sick?” I asked as concerned as I could make myself.
Yes. This was a perfect plan.
“No, I’m not sick!” he said. Much too happily.
“I heard you cough. That cough sounded pretty bad.” I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. Yet they felt so right in the moment. “Let me feel your head,” I said.
He pushed his forehead into my hand. “Dad, I’m not sick.”
“I just want to be safe. Let me feel,” I said. His head wasn’t… cold. That was good enough for me! “Your head is hot, buddy. I’m worried about you. Maybe you should stay home from school just so we can be safe.”
I told you I’m a bad dad sometimes.