The Guy’s Guide To Raising Kids: What You Need To Know If You Know Nothing**
by Joe Blow
As your girlfriend has probably told you, she’s knocked up, and the kid’s coming any day now. And you, dutiful boyfriend, are gonna Man Up. But you hate kids, and you don’t even, like, have little cousins or anything. (Of course, that’s not a slight against the dudes who actually wanna be dads – ie: those guys you know who wear pastel colors and are a little effeminate and watch movies like Knocked Up without any irony – but for this, let’s just stick with the stock view of dudes, dudes!)
Still, there’s no need to worry. Beyond the fact that having a MiniYou will be Awesome (note the capital A), we’ve created a streamlined Guys Guide to ward off any confusion or middle-of-the-night how-the-hell-do-I-attach-this-diaper whisperings.
Including all sorts of girlfriend-impressing shit (stuff that’ll totally get you back in her pants once she’s not carrying a kid anymore), below is everything you need to know about being a dad:
Seriously, dude? You didn’t use a condom? You couldn’t spring for an abortion? This shit’s on you now.
The Main Players:
You: Hell, yeah you’re the Main Playah, Playah! But you can’t make it like it’s all about you. It’s your job now to pay the bills and shut the hell up. Wifey (I don’t care if you’re married or not. Once she’s your Baby Mama, she’s Wifey) makes all the decisions from here on in.
Wifey: Baby Mama. Practice saying the following in the mirror – “Yes, baby. Whatever you want, baby.” Because from the time that kid is born, you become Number Two, and there aren’t even particles small enough to signify how little of a shit Wifey will give about what Number Two says. “Number Two” is code for shit for a reason. She already thinks you’re shit, so she ain’t gonna give any about you. Except when she wants to give you shit, which will be all the time.
The Baby: MiniYou, but don’t ever say that. If Wifey asks, always say it looks like her even if you know better. Will be seeing Wifey’s titties more than you will from here on in. ‘Nough said.
Wifey’s Parents: Where she got all her crazy ideas from.
Your Parents: Sure they put you through college, but even they’re leaving you high and dry, taking Wifey’s side just cause they want a cute grandkid.
Diaper Genie: No, it won’t grant you three wishes. What it will do is force you to have a big-ol’ strand of shit-filled sausage links. Somehow, someone got the idea that having a big plastic container of shitty diapers was better than throwing them out one at a time. And you’d better pretend you like it too, even though half the time you’ll end up taking the top off and cramming all that nastiness back into the can, because the top part doesn’t work right. I don’t care how smart you are. You will fuck it up at least once.
Baby Bjorn: No, it’s not the hot Swedish nanny you want to hire. Or the one you wish was Wifey. Or that chick in that porn you bookmarked on the laptop Wifey doesn’t know you have. This is the thing you’re going to be carrying MiniYou around in. Sure it’ll make you look like an asshole. But you’ll be an asshole carrying a kid, which means that somewhere, there’s a woman that your potent ass boned and made pregnant, and that’s pretty sweet.
Desitin: At some point, you’ll have to rub this on MiniYou’s ass. Keeps their ass cheeks from getting all chapped and shit from their diapers. Try to convince Wifey to get Anti-Monkey Butt instead. It’s the same stuff, pretty much, but the name is hilarious.
Yo Gabba Gabba: A kid show that you will inevitably have to watch at some point, and will make you want to shoot yourself in the fucking face. But you better learn all the songs, otherwise MiniYou is gonna throw, like, twelve tantrums, and Wifey will throw the thirteenth. But yo, seriously? Biz Markie is on it. I wouldn’t lie to you, Bruh. It’s true.
Yo, I know the only team you play on is the one where you get to impregnate ladies. I mean, that’s how you got here in the first place, right? But if you want a good dad example, who was more badass than fucking Phillip Drummond on Diff’rent Strokes? Answer: nobody.
I know you wish that your Baby Mama was as hot as Katherine Heigel in Knocked Up, or fucking Ellen Page in Juno. But she’s not. You just need to get the fuck over it.
What NOT to say:
“Of course I love you, Juno. I mean, Wifey.”
“The baby looks like an old man.”
“I didn’t get to be involved in your ‘pro-choice,’ so I’m not getting involved in changing shitty diapers.”
What to say:
“I wasn’t using my manhood anyway.”
“I don’t have an opinion.”
“Whatever you want.”
THAT is satire.
Though, understandably, you might not recognize it as such, being that it’s well-written and factually accurate. And spell-checked.
I will be going to see The Avengers this weekend, because I’m actually already a fan of both Joss Whedon and comics. And people like me are the only “guide” a newcomer to either Whedon’s work or the medium needs.
**For those not in the loop, this is in response to a really stupid post at the Moviefone website about The Avengers that was supposed to be a “satire,” but was actually really offensive to me, not only as a woman, but as a geek and as a fan of the English Language.