Some Superdad basics:
The Hall of In-Justice. Every group of super-heroes needs their secret lair. It's clean, organized, and has cool stuff hidden behind secret panels. The Lair has a massive TV screen, computer, and a Mr. Rogers-esque place to neatly hang their clothes behind glass. There is always a bad-ass sports car sitting in polished/pristine condition waiting to roar out of the garage. The lair is secret, private, and a place to wind down after a long day of saving the world.
For the modern Superdads our secret lairs are a bit different. First, our secret lairs are not at all secret. The address of our secret lair is in at least 7 directories for school, church, sports, and whatever other organization forces us to divulge our private information to insure Incredi-kids participation. Most of us have decent TV, but it's stuck on the Cartoon Network instead of ESPN, and the "mute" button is only a touch away for those times when the kids come down from their beds and we're watching "Eddie Murphy-Raw" on Encore. The computer...well that's for logging into some toy website that sells $18 stuffed animals, getting emails from school telling us that strep throat or lice are going around, or getting one of the many Incredi-kid scheduling commitments. The car has four doors, and was purchased for its functionality and not sexuality. Superdads never have privacy in the secret lair, and we always come home to a house full of kids (often times not just ours). Wondermom, with that slight look of desperation that screams "help me", greets us with a hello and an air-kiss, but is mostly glad to have someone here to get some showers started. At least one Incredi-kid comes down from upstairs after getting a lesson on respect, and in a showing of further disrespect blames Wondermom or the other Incredi-kid. I'm sure Superman gets some solitude in the Fortress of Solitude, but the Superdad gets no such relief.
Secret Identities. By my count each Superdad has at least four secret identities.
First, there is "Dad." In my case it's "Baba", but it could be "Papa", "Pop", or "Father" if you're born in Brittan. Dad is not a secret identity, but rather the baseline. In this life of wearing too many hats, Dad doesn't wear one. He tells it like it is, is stern but fair, and goes to the coffee shop or Home Depot on Saturday in sweats, flip flops, and without even running a comb through his hair. Showers and shaving on weekends are only done if you have to go to a wedding. Dad will play catch, build legos, or cuddle on the couch with Incredi-daughter upon demand (she owns us). Dad thinks he can fix anything, and generally costs the family a few extra hundred by taking a shot before he spends any money. Dad burps, farts, and believes he is the master of his universe (at least inside the walls of his house). Incredi-kids think Dad is pretty cool...for now. Dad is pretty damn happy most of the time.
The second identify is "Parent" with the other families. Parent Dad holds back most honest thoughts like, "man that kid is a little shit" or "that baby looks like Chuckie." Sorry they're not all perfect, but Parent Dad generally keeps his opinions in check to protect the fragile public. Parent Dad never curses, laughs too hard, or drinks "one too many" at any function. Parent Dad is boring.
Third, is "Worker-Dad." Worker-dad generally sucks. He's happy (or financially dependent) enough to pry himself from bed each day to go to the sweatshop and grind out a living, but is never at his happiest. He goes on ESPN.com at work because he can't watch it at home anymore, and keeps in touch with the other Superdads through a series of vulgar texts and emails (on gmail of course). Sometimes Worker-Dad is cool, but mostly he puts on his suit, chinos, scrubs, or dockers and takes on the world in a pair of comfortable shoes.
Lastly, there is "Party-Dad." Party-Dad rarely goes out, but then he does it's on. Party-Dad is FUN in all caps baby. Party-Dad and Party-Mom will go wild when they get the chance, but they'll be home by 10pm since they have to get up to go to something the next morning...and 10 is pretty late (of course, they will check for texts from the sitter every 20 minutes). When multiple Party-Dads get together there is usually a serious effort to sound like we are still capable of holding our own in a fight, but it mostly sounds pathetic as the conversations that usually follow are discussions about hair loss, colonoscopy (gotta be careful), or how getting your nuts cut off isn't that bad if you do it during March Madness. Party-Dad is super happy, until the next morning when he swears he will never come out again.
Until Next time...same Dad time...same Dad channel!
