Living Vicariously Through My Kids
Not long ago I decide that I am going to live vicariously through my children. I am going to have them do all of the things that I did not get to do as a child. I know that most of you already assume that I am talking about sports. Don’t get me wrong, I will probably do what most fathers who participated in sports end up doing for their kids. I will spend thousands upon thousands of dollars sending my kids to sporting camps hosted by local pro athletes (who never actually show up at the camp). I will bribe referees, coaches, and teachers in order to assure the maximum playing time for my kids. Hell, I may even sabotage my children’s opponents. Anything for mention of my child in the local gazette, right? While I will, undoubtedly, do all of these things, there are other, more important things that my children need to experience…for me.
As a child, I always wanted to be trained in martial arts. I never got the chance because I was too busy stealing hood ornaments and pulling drive-by shootings with my paintball gun. Naturally, I want my children to experience the confidence and discipline that is taught through martial arts. My son is now almost 11 months old. I have been training him to become a baby ninja since he was about 6 months old. I am happy to report that he is progressing rather nicely. He even connected on a roundhouse kick to the skull of his three-year-old sister the other day. (assisted by me of course, as he cannot yet walk) It felt as if I were actually the one landing that sweet roundhouse to her petite, blonde noggin. I must say, if dealing out round-houses to one of my kids…using my other kid were a drug, I would be Pablo Escobar. This whole vicarious living concept is going to work out for me, I think.
I never got a tattoo as a young person. Naturally, I do not want my kids to miss their window like I did, so I got M inked. I didn’t want to take her to one of those trendy tattoo shops with their fancy artists and sterilized needles like all of the punk college kids. I found a homeless man the other day that had a sign that read, “Will Tattoo You For Food”, so I hired him. Turns out that he was not looking for food, so after a fifth of $7 whiskey he was ready to get started on my three-year-old daughter’s tat. We are pretty happy with the results and after a brief hospital stay and a bout of tetanus, the tattoo is healing nicely. What a gift for both M and Me!
I think that my children are going to grow up with the sense that they have lived life to the fullest. I can’t wait for tomorrow’s experience where I…er my kids get to go skydiving!