The joys of fatherhood are limitless and if you’re a father, this isn’t breaking news for you. Not only do you discover new “powers,” so to speak, within yourself, but you also get to keep current on what is presently “hip” via your very own walking, talking, eating, breathing and last, but certainly not least, very opinionated human. If your kid isn’t a teen yet, just add water and give it a few years—it’ll happen. Trust me; I’m afather.
Thanks to fatherhood, (but somehow this is much to my kids’ embarrassment) I am in the know of the hottest names and trends in pop culture. To name a few, I am well versed with Lady Gaga, “bling bling,” and liking it, therefore putting a ring on it. Well, folks, here’s a story where the tables were turned… slightly: I left my laptop open a few days ago while I wandered away from the Twitter world to make myself a sandwich for lunch. In my absence, my son decided it was high time for him to check his e-mail…or MySpace…or whatever it is the kids are crazy about on the internet these days. In my blissful, sandwich-making mode, I was interrupted by a crude shout from the other room: “EEEEEWWWW, DAAAAD.” You’d swear he’d just walked-in on my wife and I having sex, but considering the circumstances of the situation, that was definitely not the issue at hand. I abruptly put away the mustard and mayo and walked back into my office. Here’s where things went awry (hahah…used rye bread on my sandwich, but never mind that…)— my son was reading my Tweets. I can’t even begin to explain how bizarre that is to say (since it sounds disgusting if you don’t know the lexicon of Twitter) and actually have happen.
Needless to say, the look on his sweet, young face was that of mortification. But, to my surprise, instead of addressing the content of my Tweets, he said: “I can’t believe you have a Twitter!” Again, a very strange thing to hear your son say, and for those of you who are not savvy with what Twitter is, it’s a micro means of blogging, where you can update thoughts or things you are doing on a minute-by-minute basis…so now you understand.
…You can go ahead and retract the thought you had about two seconds ago when you assumed that my family is dysfunctional…it’s not, thank you. The only dysfunctional thing about it was of my personal dysfunction, and that was solved a while ago thanks to Boston Medical Group. But seriously, back to the soliloquy at hand—he said that and I said, “What do you know about Twitter?” (haha). Apparently all the kids have Twitter accounts these days! Here’s where the tables turned—we made a truce, him and I. And when you make a truce with your son for the first time, I’ll tell you—there’s no feeling like it. He promised he would not tell my wife about my Tweets, and I promised to never look at his. (There is absolutely no way to go about using the Twitter vernacular without all sorts of innuendos coming up, is there?)
I was embarrassed…he was embarrassed; we were embarrassed. So what’s my point? It’s socially acceptable to be shameless? Well, yes, this was the harsh evidence that proved to be the reality I came to after reading through various “Tweets” from Twitter users across the world. All I’m saying is that if my wife caught wind that I occasionally tweet stereotypical dude-man things (ie. See my Bio on Twitter), I’d be in the birdhouse.