I think Haley's had one too many sippie cups of milk.
It was really not that long ago that I was a bachelor, surrounded by great friends and living a fairly easy going existence.
I had two roommates. We lived in a condo on the river. We took road trips. We went to ballgames. We were three guys living the high life.
Slowly but surely our buddies began to marry off…but we hung tough.
My how times have since changed.
Thursday morning, my life went full circle from those days as a fun-loving bachelor to my days as a dad.
I took my daughter to her weekly preschool. As I was checking her in, another dad walked in with his toddler. He looked vaguely familiar. He looked like a guy I once knew. A guy that, like me, was once a single guy living the life. He left town, moved to Napa Valley and started his own winery. How cool is that?!?!
The last time I saw him we were finishing my whirlwind, three-day bachelor party in Las Vegas. Still just guys having a good time.
Fast forward eight years. Now we’re both married. We each have two children. We’re slinging diaper bags over our shoulders and Vegas seems like a distant memory.
On another day, in another environment, perhaps over a beer, I could have caught up with my old friend…laughed about old times, talked about the new challenges of being a dad.
But our actual exchange was a little more awkward…a jarring vision really, trying to juxtapose the old picture of our free-wheeling selves with the new image of responsibility, parenthood and poopie diapers.But every once and a while, my mind shifts back to the days when the schedule was mine and mine alone.
So we did what guys do…we grunted “how ya’ doing,” without really expecting an answer…then mumbled something about trying to get together soon…then a quick move out the door into our sedans and minivans before having to fully admit that we are now the guys we once laughed at. The ball and chain guys. The ones who had baby food on their neck ties and pacifiers in their pockets.
Don’t get me wrong. I love being a dad and a husband. It’s a blessing and a gift…and I would not change my life for anything.
But every once and a while, my mind shifts back to the days when the schedule was mine and mine alone. When late nights were spent howling at the moon, not calming a screaming baby. And when the anxiety of date night had nothing to do with whether or not the babysitter closed the baby gate at the top of the stairs.
That’s what happened when I saw my old buddy in the preschool line…and saw the stain of old apple sauce on his tie.
Boy, what a difference a few years make.
