I’m finally on the mend, my friends. The last couple days have brought huge improvements. I don’t know what triggered the healing to finally start because just as recently as Friday I was on the phone with the surgeon’s office telling him I was worried I might have an emergency situation, then the next day I woke up and felt infinitely better. The human body is weird. And funny. And sometimes far more weird than funny.

Warning. Skip this post if you can’t handle frank discussion about medical issues such as what I’ve been dealing with. I am going to talk about things like <gulp> anuses. Is that the proper plural form?

Hey, everyone has one. I hope.


I have learned something with authority.

Kids do not understand illness and injury.

Yes, they get that something is wrong.

Yes, they even give you a bit of a pass for being less fun and more cranky than usual.

Yes, they understand that you’re in pain.

But they do not understand illness and injury. Not fully.

They don’t understand that “be gentle and don’t jump on me,” is a directive that lasts longer than the next six minutes.

They don’t get that “I can’t be crazy and wrestle and play for a while” applies at 5PM as much as it applied at 4PM.

They don’t get that “I’m just not feeling well and need to go lay down” is code for “something about your exuberant and wonderful child energy is really making me feel increasingly worse for some reason.”

Nope. They don’t get it. At least until you explain it in terms that they can understand.

And how do you explain something like, my anus was just brutally massacred, so I can’t be happy because being happy leads to things like… God forbid… laughing?

He finally got it when I could once again sense his growing boredom and desire for this period of life to be long gone already, and in response I told him…

Okay. I want you to concentrate on your bum. Are you doing that?

Yep, Dad.

Okay. Now, I want you to cough.


Did you feel how your bum squeezed really tight when you did that kind of like when you’re trying not to fart? (NOTE: I realized in that moment that he perhaps had never actually tried to hold in one of his farts).


Okay. Now, I want you to laugh.


Did you feel how your bum squeezed really tight when you did that, too?


Okay. Now I want you to pretend like you’re sneezing.


Did you feel how your bum squeezed really tight when you did that, too?


Okay. Do those things again. This time, pretend like every time your bum squeezes really tight it feels like someone is trying to stab you in the throat through your butt.

You get the idea. Lots more laughing. Finally some understanding. Finally some real sympathy from my 8-year old. He hopped down, understanding much better what it was that his dad was going through, and he was so much more gentle the rest of the day.

But do you know what’s even better than that?

I would be willing to bet that you, dear reader friend, just tried at least one of those things to see what your butt did.

Yes. I wrote this post because I am just in a silly mood and thought, I wonder how many thousands of people I can make cough and think about their butt holes all at the same time so that I feel less alone. Hahaha.


This blog is probably dangerous in the hands of someone who has been cooped up, overwhelmed with cabin fever, and has been going crazy for a month now.

I just want to know who has the guts to admit that they did it. Hehehe.

Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing

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Dan Pearce is an American-born author, app developer, photographer, and artist. This blog, Single Dad Laughing, is what he's most known for, with more than 2 million daily subscribers as of 2017. Pearce writes mostly humorous and introspective works, as well as his musings which span from fatherhood, to dating, to life, to the people and dynamics of society. Single Dad Laughing is much more than a blog. It's an incredible community of people just being real and awesome together!