mr nice guy, meet fork. fork, mr nice guy.
i owe you a post don't i?
i got nothin'. sorry.
i went to LA alone for easter/passover. a good long weekend from which i have yet to recover.
the nanny started yesterday. a bad long week from which i have yet to recover. not because she isn't a good nanny. she is a fucking fantastic nanny. maybe that's the problem: mr nice guy is now obsolete-dad. he has handed his beloved baton off to someone else. stick a fork in him.
i could probably tell you 7,235,392 crazy stories from the past week (eastover was great -- seder followed by much drinking and a 2 am Fatburger run. "medium rare with bacon, cheese, chili and a fried egg on top, thankyouverymuch"). but i am not going to bore you with details about my brother's insanely fancy new whip or his insanely short hair cut. i will not go on and on about the fact that mater nice guy reads this site every day and constantly reminds me that she was deeply betrayed by this unspeakably cruel and dastardly entry. i'll hold back on telling you about how my aunt sang along to marty robbins' excellent "el paso" at easter brunch, pointing out her favorite lyric: "i caught a good one; it looked like it could run." i will not play civic booster and tell you that the next time you go to LA you must must must must visit the polo lounge at the beverly hills hotel for pitch-perfect manhattans and obsequious-yet-irony-rich service.
no. you will not get any of that from me. i am fried. i am a little bit depressed. ok, i am a lot depressed. i am handing over the torch. mr nice guy is no longer the primary caregiver. the nanny is the new sheriff in town. i am just a part-time parent now. i am sad.
the nanny -- let's call her NEW MOM -- she started yesterday. new mom made it clear that she was taking control. it was imperative that new mom be left alone with the child -- the Brainwashing could only take root if both parents were completely removed from the scene. so i left them to get to know each other. i went to the gym; got a hair cut. i was doing pretty good on my own.
i went on walkabout. i ambled. i sauntered. i loitered. i wandered the town much like (some of) my people wandered the desert for 40 years. i became parched. i drank. i got lonely. i began to miss my daughter. i came home to see how she was doing and ... she wasn't there. i sat on the couch pretending to read some new yorker article -- either about our certain death from global warming meltdown or our certain death stemming from our impending nuclear invasion of iran, i forget which -- as i waited like a jilted lover until baby and new mom came back. then they came back. they came back in the midst of a fucking lovefest. they returned from the park, all grimy with tot lot dirt, just loving the hell out of each other. the message was clear. baby nice guy was going to get along just fine with new mom. and dad? who's dad? obsolete. stick a fork in him. he's done.