Becoming a Dad

When I first learned that I was to become a father, I must admit that a very small, immature part of me relished the idea that someday there would be another human being who was afraid of me. Yes, I know this is a strange fantasy but you must understand that as a male, I have a biological need to intimidate somebody. As a married man, I spend most of my days in fear of my wife's disaproving glare. I really looked forward to being on the other side of this dynamic.

As I was growing up, the scariest phrase (next to "Aunt Edna is coming for dinner") was "WAIT UNTIL YOUR FATHER GETS HOME!!!" My mother used this judiciously, and it had the intended effect. The next 3 hours would be spend cowering under a blanket in my bedroom as I could have sworn I could hear dad's car leaving the office garage 26 miles away. As the garage door opened and he entered the house, a conversational mumble beyond my hearing capacity took place followed by a heavy thudding up the stairs. Though my father never once hit me, I was always sure that my life was about to end.

When our six year old began misbehaving at school, I instructed my wife to utilize this essential tool of child rearing. Just tell him "WAIT UNTIL YOUR FATHER GETS HOME!!!" I calmly explained. Her response was less than encouraging.

"Why?"

Unfortunately, this didn't appear to be a self evident answer, so I began to explain the sheer terror that such a sentence instills into the heart of a young child. Her ensuing confused look was also not encouraging.

"Trust me. He'll run to his room and shake for three hours straight while anticipating the fury of yours truly."

After she stopped laughing at the overly confident statement, she promised to give it a try the next day. She then picked up the phone and spent three hours calling each of her girlfriends to tell them of my plan, collapsing into hysterics every time she told the story. My own mom found it particularly humorous.

A few days later, she called me at work to inform me that Operation Mortal Fear Of Daddy's Uncertain Reprisal had been put into place. She also assured me that she had not laughed while telling my son of my impending fury. About 1/2 hour later, my cell phone rang while I was driving home. It was my six year old wanting to tell me all about his day at school. Clearly his fear had not been insurmountable.

I have now settled into the realization that I'm not one of those tough guy dads who rule with an iron fist. Instead, I'm the understanding dad who will hear every excuse before calmly explaining what the family rules are. I guess that's okay, and I think my kids will still grow up well adjusted. After all, worst case scenario I can always invite grandpa over to pinch hit for me.