Copyright
Copyright © 2019 by Sanderson Dean
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First Edition: May 2019
Published by Running Press, an imprint of Perseus Books, LLC, a subsidiary of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2018955313
ISBNs: 978-0-7624-9360-9 (hardcover), 978-0-7624-9359-3 (ebook)
E3-20190406-JV-NF-ORI
CONTENTS
COVER
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
DEDICATION
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER 1: TAKING TIME FOR YOURSELF & OTHER MYTHS
CHAPTER 2: SLEEP & OTHER THINGS YOU’LL NEVER ENJOY AGAIN
CHAPTER 3: YELLING & OTHER THINGS THAT DON’T WORK
CHAPTER 4: PLAYTIME & OTHER MESS-MAKING ADVENTURES
CHAPTER 5: SANITY & OTHER THINGS GOING DOWN THE TOILET
CHAPTER 6: FOOD & OTHER THINGS KIDS DON’T EAT
CHAPTER 7: STOP & SMELL THE… UH-OH
CHAPTER 8: STILL STANDING! LIKE THE WALKING DEAD
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Dedicated to my two boys, Jordan and Kylan.
Thanks for all the inspiration.
INTRODUCTION
Dear Dad,
Fatherhood is an amazing adventure. Unfortunately, by the fourth sleepless night, you probably won’t remember any of it. Suddenly you’ll have a lot on your hands—like germs, spit-up, and probably snot. Only a strong sense of self-preservation can get you through. That, and conveniently overlooking loaded diapers.
Sadly, kids don’t come with instructions—and frankly, we probably wouldn’t read them anyway. In my case, the kids wouldn’t sleep. They wouldn’t eat. They wouldn’t stop crying. They kept making messes. And they still don’t flush the toilet. (Sound familiar?)
After years of listening to my whining, my wife challenged me to do something more constructive with my angst. And now you’re reading it! Everything here is based on real life, real joy, and real torment. Even the artwork is real—compliments of my kids.
Inspiration came one afternoon while plunging a toilet… for the second time that day. When I shared “Ode to the Plungerman” with my family, it was an instant hit. Apparently, everyone loves to laugh at Dad’s pain. Now, after more than four years of capturing all my experiences in the form of poems, I feel like it’s time to share my bitter, cathartic humor with all the other Stark Raving Dads out there. Misery loves company, and let’s face it: you’re not the only frazzled parent picking Craisins out of your couch cushions.
Welcome to the club,
Your Fellow Frazzled Dad
CHAPTER 1:
TAKING TIME FOR YOURSELF & OTHER MYTHS
Okay, so you’re a parent. Now what? There’s no manual. There’s no do-overs. And there’s definitely no breaks. These are poems about those quiet times… when Dad realizes there’s also no escape.
Go with the flow.
But keep your plunger handy.
Stark Raving Dad (Adage)
ARE YOU LISTENING?
My wife finally made her point
It took forever
She—
No you can’t have that
Said—
What are you guys getting into?
That—
Stop hitting your brother
I—
Wait, is that gum?
Need—
I’ll help you in a second
To—
Give me the stick
Listen—
Where’d you get that?
Better
LOVING HANDS
Always grabbing
Always clinging
Always sticking
Where have they been?
What have they touched?
When were they clean?
Now they’re here
Rubbing my face
Your hands letting me know
We share everything
Like your runny nose
KING FOR A MINUTE
Here I sit upon the throne
How I wish I was alone
First comes one kid, then the cat
Then comes pounding
What was that?
It used to be a quiet time
A place of solace, not a crime
No one questioning whilst I sat
Now everyone’s wondering
Where I’m at
I miss the past, when mine was mine
Including all my bathroom time
More frantic knocking
C’mon, what’s wrong?
I mumble that I won’t be long
LOVE & PUKE
Warm and wet
I hear the splatter
But I’m too numb
For it to matter
Liquid spreads across my chest
Drips that haven’t come to rest
I wipe your tears
I share your sighs
Two weary souls
With muffled cries
Plaintive eyes and burning head
Abandon thoughts of sleep and bed
No more wondering if you’re sick
I hug you close
And feel us stick
THE DIAPER AISLE
I stare
Lost in the glare
Of bright, fluorescent light
So many options, so many offers
So many pitfalls late at night
So many sizes, so many styles
So many selections to get right
So many categories, so many colors
So many covers to compute
So many containers, so many catchers
So many collectors—for poop
THE PROBLEM SOLVER
The future looks up at me
With a hopeful smile
And the question sits
The charge of parental duty
For more rainbow sprinkles
Or temper fits
These choices in life
Define us
And tension mounts
These tests of resolve
Shape us
And seconds count
The moment tense
I can’t be wrong
My decision swift—
Go ask Mom
SUNDAY MORNING WAKE-UP CALL
A footstep
A giggle
A jump on the bed
A moan
A crash
A thump in the head
A scream
A bark
A cereal spill
A fight
A bite
A threat to kill
A screech
A curse
A bang on the wall
A grumble
A groan
Arise—
To you
r Sunday morning wake-up call
THE FIRST POOP
Who could imagine I’d be so proud
Floating, joyous, upon a cloud
A little grunt
A soft kerflop
One small floatie that pleases Pop
In beaming eyes, I see the glow
A toilet triumph, your best-in-show
The drop in the bucket
The beginning of the end
Call out the heralds
Ring all of our friends
No diaper change
No stinky mess
This poop’s on target
Our greatest success
Potty-trained forevermore!
Until… you lose focus
In aisle eight of the hardware store
FISH FLUSH
I never thought I’d do it
I never thought I’d lie
But I’m staring at a third fish
That had to go and die
Tears, moans, wails, and whoa
Gaze up in clouded eyes
A ruse to dodge a little grief
Should come as no surprise
A fish is a fish and a flush is a flush
So off to the store I go
And when I return with a new Mr. Bubbles
No one will ever know
CHAPTER 2:
SLEEP & OTHER THINGS YOU’LL NEVER ENJOY AGAIN
There comes a point in every dad’s life when he realizes he no longer has a life. Don’t expect time for sleep, brushing your teeth, or barbecues. These poems are about finding your happy place—then kissing it goodbye.
Responsibility arrives
upon the winds of diaper change.
Stark Raving Dad (Proverb)
RELAX & IGNORE THE TOOTHPASTE
Standing here
Quiet
Moments after bedtime
Breathe deep
This is your time to think
Ignore the toothpaste
On the edge of the sink
And the mirror
And the floor
And the wall
And the door
THE TUCKING PROCESS
I tuck you in—
Because it’s bedtime
Then—
Because you heard a noise
Next—
Because you’re thirsty
Shortly—
Because you had a question
Later—
Because you’re not tired
Again—
Because it’s too hot
After that—
Because you had a bad dream
Even though you haven’t slept
Finally—
I tuck you in next to Mom
So I can sleep on the couch
A DATE WITH MOM
The lights dim
The wine pours
The music plays
The candle flickers
Eyes lock
Hands touch
Senses tingle
Heads lean together
Softly
You whisper to me:
Did we leave enough diapers?
ME, MYSELF & PEE
At the weary hour of three
I ponder
Liquid impossibility
Bleary eyes that strain to see
The wonder
Of Ultra Absorbency
But proof lies in front of me
Your diaper
No miracle-sponge anomaly
Naked now, you set truth free
Revealing
My shirt too—can soak up pee
FLOATIE IN THE TUB
I pooped! I pooped!
I see, I see
It’s there
Floating in the tub
You smile
I smile
As we ponder your circling sub
No pain
All contained
I’m far beyond reacting
On this, we can all agree
A bath is so relaxing
ALL THE RICHES IN THE WORLD
Gold
Diamonds
Riches
Rubies
Fame
Fortune
Cash
Caviar
Champagne
Gems
Limousines
Private jets
Islands
Life
The universe
Anything
Everything
I’d give it all—
For sleep
ALMOST PURE
Sweltering sun
On city street
Sharing a drink
To beat the heat
Just a sip
Clean and refreshing
My bottled water
A liquid blessing
Now orange speckles
Swirl within
Lazily floating
For me to dive in
Changing my mind
I realize I’m done
There’s only enough
Goldfish-cracker water for one
STUCK IN THE EVER-MOVING LINE
Stuck in line
It begins…
Fidgeting
Fiddling
Wriggling
Jiggling
Squirming
Turning
Twisting
Tugging
Jerking
Jolting
Thumping
Bumping
Swinging
Flinging
Flopping
Grasping
Grabbing
Wait—
I have my phone
And by its magical light
You turn to stone
BUNDLED FOR THE WINTER
Thick socks. Long underwear. Warm sweater.
Stay still.
This is better.
Snow pants. Coat. Hat.
Stand up.
Stop that.
Boots. Mittens. Fingers all crunched.
Let’s try this again, wait…
Your socks are bunched?
Take off your boots.
We may never leave.
What’s wrong with your sleeve?
I’ll fix your scarf.
We’ve got to rewrap it.
And we’re still trying to zip up your jacket.
Yes—
I know it’s hot,
But outside it’s not.
We’re taking great care,
Making sure you’re prepared.
And now…
You have to go potty?
CHAPTER 3:
YELLING & OTHER THINGS THAT DON’T WORK
For every action there is a reaction, and however you react, you’re wrong. Sorry, Dad. Did we mention there’s no training manual? Yeah, these are poems about that.
Don’t waste your time wondering if you’re doing everything right. You aren’t.
Stark Raving Dad (Maxim)
NO ONE IGNORES ME BETTER
I say your name, softly at first
Then louder, with more authority
Firmer, like a school teacher
Commanding, like a police officer
Barking, like a drill sergeant
Shouting, like a stock trader
Roaring, like a football coach
Screaming, like a rabid fan
Finally,
YELLING
Like a dad
And still,
Somehow—
You don’t hear me
NO TISSUE TO THE RESCUE
Like lava
Like time
Unstoppable
The snot dripping from your nose
No tissue
No wipes
Unwatchable
The slime dangling toward your toes
Stay calm
Stay cool
Unflappable
We’ve got places to go
One slee
ve
One swipe
Unshakable
Roll it up like a parenting pro
THE DARKSIDE DISPOSAL
Panic
No time to think
Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!!
Breathlessly
Staring at the sink
Whatever it is, we lost it
Pondering
That terrible sound
Imagining
Those items ground
Spoons, lids
Tupperware
Beaten and mangled
Beyond repair
Reaching in
To find instead
Darth Vader
Minus a head
ROAD TRIP CONCIERGE
Welcome to the passenger side
Just remember
You’re not along for the ride
You’re the concierge
Constantly attending, fixing
And wiping up
Contorting your body
To get things unstuck
Dropped toys, treats, sporks, and spills
Crayons, nuggets, napkins, and refills
Even a movie
Can’t stop this barrage
The end of the journey
A distant mirage
Eyes burn into me, when you realize
Long before we arrive—
You should have asked to drive
HATE BEFORE SCHOOL
Hate lives in angry eyes
Hate knows disdainful sighs
Hate walks with us to school
Hate’s scorn, irrefutable
Hate follows a darkened path
Hate stews in growing wrath
Hate is eternal, hate never stops
Hate just glares, with a lunch box
Hate will say no goodbye
Hate will silence my reply
Hate is a cold sneer as you go
All because you wanted an Oreo
THREATS
Staring at their faces
I know it better be good
Threats don’t always work
Even though they should
My glares will scare
My words will astound
Stark Raving Dad Page 1