I’ve got hide because it’s coming. I know it. I can see it behind every cough and call for dad. The stomach bug that is running through my kids is coming and it’s ultimate goal is to get to me. To infect dad and weaken him. To bring me to my knees in front of the porcelain god. It’s after me. I’ve got to hide.
I hid in my closet and put wet towels underneath the doorframe to prevent air circulation. I spent the night under my bed and made friends with the random its of life that have found a new home there. A sock was my neighbor. I traded recipes with a Starbucks cup. I went outside and made a new home in the woods. I used TikTok tutorials on how to build a mud cabin in the winter and had the squirrels over for lunch.
Other times though, the dad instinct took over. At 3 am when my daughter called my name, I ran to the bathroom and patted her back as she let loose. When my son got it next, I changed his sheets and breathed the same air as him. And for my youngest, ah my sweet little boy, he needed to be cuddled. That’s what broke me. Love. Love breaks us all in the end.
In the middle of the night, after all my kids were well, I woke with a burp. I played a game with myself that we have all played. “I’m not sick, just a little bit of gas. That’s all.” That was followed by more burps. Then I told myself it was the pizza and heartburn. I know that I shouldn’t eat pizza but what can you do when that doughy goodness is staring right at you? And finally, I willed myself not to be sick.
It’s a habit that my wife hates in me. “You pretend you’re not sick and then you get more sick. Just be sick!” she says. I can’t be sick. I have responsibilities. I’ve got dinners to cook, carpools to do, writing that needs to be written! There are long talks about life that my kids need because who is going to teach them about how Ripley defeated the Alien queen? Not my wife, that’s for sure.
But as I laid there, bile tasting burps coming up, I knew that all my hiding was for nothing. I ran to the bathroom and began the game.
As a kid, you can bounce back from being sick in like a day. You have your moment, get pampered, and then boom, you’re back on the playground. But as an adult? It’s going to ruin your whole week and then some. It takes me longer to recoup than it ever has. And with three kids out in the world, I get it all.
Every cough or hiccup eventually comes my way. Every single time. Oh, you’ve got stomach problems my child? Here, let me turn that into a full-blown bed ridden week. See how dad does it?
And this week is the week I can’t get this. My daughter just turned 16 and is getting her license.
It’s a monumental occasion in a young person’s life. It represents freedom. It’s to boldly go where no man has gone before. It’s getting Chipotle without having to wait for someone to take you. It’s the first step on being grown up.
My daughter and I practiced all week for the driver’s test. She was sick for 2 hours and now feels fine. I thought it was over. So we did the parallel parking and the driving backwards using only your mirrors. We went over car engines again and learned how far you can be away from the curb. We practiced turning on the blinker without looking. I even gave her permission to do the middle finger, should that be a question on the test.
And when the day came, I was laid up in bed wondering if I’m sleeping or dreaming about sleeping. My stomach muscles ache from the night before. When the thought of chicken enters my head, I have to make another run to the bathroom. “Don’t think about chicken,” I tell myself and then immediately do. So, while I was having the cold shakes while at the same time sweating, I missed my daughter’s driver’s test. I missed that moment.
I have built my life around those series of moments. I have collected them like a hoarder. Putting each one in my little museum of parenting in my head. The time that they did this or that. I have gone back to them when I need a laugh or to remember how we grew together. I know that missing one test isn’t a big deal, but there’s a whole in my museum because I couldn’t hide well enough.
She passed her test and is overjoyed. She told me how she parked and failed that section. But that her lane changes were perfect. She also says she had a good drip that day and it probably had something to do with it. I have no idea what that means, but in my cold shakes, I smile at her. At the woman she is becoming.
There will be a lot more things that I will miss in her life as she grows up and leaves my home. I know that I’m holding on and fighting it. I know that a driver’s test is just a driver’s test. But I still wanted to be there.
I went my entire 20s without getting sick at all. All that time, and nothing until I had kids. I’m getting better now. I can stand up without getting dizzy. That’s a start. But the next one that comes down with something, I’m going to get my daughter to drive me far away and hid in a bunker. It’s the only way to be sure.
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This Post is republished on Medium.
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Photo credit: Shutterstock
