Evil Dad...

According to my son, I am evil. This is the impression I get from him anyway. I got home from work today at my normal time, around 4:30. And within 15 minutes, Damon was crying.

Let me start out by saying that, between my wife and me, I am the stricter parent. I don't think I'm unreasonable, but I make my son do things that I believe every kid "SHOULD DO!"

Damon came outside when I arrived home today, and my first comment to him was, "Thank you, Damon." He asked, "Why, Dad?" And I said, "Because you have clothes on instead of pajamas." (He takes after his mom and wears his pajamas around ALL DAY, which drives Daddy crazy.) At this point, the first round of whining begins, already. Apparently he couldn't find his shoes in the house, and he knows that Evil Dad won't let him ride his bike unless he has shoes on. So now Damon's crying because he doesn't know where his shoes are.

Five minutes pass before we hear the music of the Ice Cream Truck rapidly approaching (a sound that I truly hate because the dumbass driver has the volume so high that I could hear it over 100 Harley Davidsons riding past). At this point, I'm getting slightly irritated... because I've only been home for a few minutes and this is supposed to be my time to "wind down" after a day at work. Now, Damon is mad because he spent all of his money ($3 he earned mowing the yard last weekend) on this very same truck 2 days before... but he wants ice cream NOW, of course. Evil Dad says, "no ice cream." I told him we were going to have dinner before too long... AND we have ice cream and popsicles in the freezer (for later, after dinner). Damon is mad and crying again... but Grandma is here and comes to his rescue, as usual. She gives him money and lets him get ice cream for after dinner. (This, by the way, irritates the crap out of me since she heard me say no, but how can I go above the "Almighty Grandma?")

Dinner is always a fight with Damon, and I try to prepare myself for it ahead of time. Tonight was no different. First, Evil Dad made Damon's friends go home so we could sit and eat dinner as a family (one of the things I like to do now that I actually see my family every day.) About an hour later, Damon came to me with his plate cleaned off to show me that he ate all his food. I looked at the plate and could plainly see that a dog (Lizzie) had licked the plate clean. (Erin had put Lizzie up so we could eat dinner, and Damon apparently let her out during one of his trips to the bathroom... another way he tries to avoid eating.)

So now, I make Damon take his bath and prepare for an evening inside. He's pissed off at Evil Dad, of course. He now knows that, because he didn't eat all of his dinner, he can't have his friends back over to play tonight and he won't get the ice cream he was able to sucker out of Grandma.

All of this fun and I haven't even been home for two hours yet.

If these things make me an Evil Dad, then I guess I'm guilty.

Okay, this has been long enough... I better go so I can figure out the next way to irritate my son... I'm sure he's counting on it!

(Carrie, this post is for you! Erin told me you were wondering when I would post again. It's nice to have a "fan.")