Parenting is challenging. However, my father developed the opinion that he had accumulated enough knowledge about parenting, based on the trials and tribulations he had endured from my brother and me that he could write a book that others could use to raise their children. At first, I thought he was just keeping mental notes that he may share with other parents through conversations, but much to my surprise the document referred to as “The Playbook” was very real, as in pen to paper real. The fact that The Playbook existed was unfathomable because honestly who would take advice from my father? After moving beyond my initial shock I began to wonder what was actually in The Playbook. I inquired further, “Dad, what types of things do you provide advice on in The Playbook?” My father responded with a jumbled incoherent one liner, “It gives guidance on the threads to dress their kids to how not to be incongruous at a birthday party.” It was if my father was seeking for The Playbook to be trans-generational by mashing a millennial hipster phrase with a term a baby boomer would cite. Frankly, my mind was blown; and it took a lot of will power not call out the sheer bewilderment of the crazy idea. Without the proper words to express my feelings I decided to log The Playbook in my memory bank for future use.
The topic of The Playbook re-emerged sooner than I anticipated, which was about a week later at my little brother’s birthday party. My father was talking with a group of other parents when I interjected and put the other parents on notice that my father was writing The Playbook. From my father’s reaction it was immediately apparent that he was not ready for this information to be made public yet. I thought, “Dad do not be shy, now is the time to take ownership of The Playbook and share your great advice.” After I had positioned him well to market The Playbook, he was reluctant to provide any details to the other parents. I was not going to squander this opportunity as I needed outsiders to weigh in on the topic of The Playbook to gauge if the idea was totally crazy or just mildly insane. I pushed the conversation forward by randomly mixing phrases my father commonly used. “Tell them about “Hand Jam” (The act of entering data manually into a computer) or “Wigging Out” (When technology does not work properly) Dad.” Before I could proceed further my father abruptly cut me off and quickly jumped in, which he later described as “damage control.” My father explained to the other parents we were informally sharing parenting ideas and those phrases were solely internal titles and no impropriety should be tied to those phrases.
“Uhh, Dad you just missed a major opportunity,” I thought as he ushered me to the corner of the room. My father stated he was not prepared to share The Playbook yet. To which I replied, “There are a lot of mixed messages being sent out. It is hard to sniff out where your head is at any given moment.” My father shared his gratefulness for my willingness to help, but he said we needed to work on the delivery of my sales pitch. He expounded further stating that without providing people context in advance, phrases like “Hand Jam” may be misinterpreted as being a nefarious or an erotic activity. The thought, “Well again, I am totally lost by my father’s continued use of confounding words,” surfaced in my mind as he passionately pleaded for further restraints regarding The Playbook. I stated that I would comply with his request. During the remainder of the party I pondered whether my father actually had the moxie to really move forward with publishing The Playbook. I believed skepticism was warranted given the fact that my father neither was not a subject matter expert on parenting nor possessed the wear-with-all to face public scrutiny of The Playbook. I could not let the idea of the Playbook go; it was all-consuming. I had to do something, so I finally approached my mom to get her take. Well, The Playbook was new information to my mother, and she promised to squash it. Finally, I had closure on The Playbook. I could rest assured that my teenage years would not be plagued by memes and inappropriate references to The Playbook. Moreover, for the first time in my life I felt like I saved my father from making a poor life decision. He categorized this as a treacherous act, but he will thank me one day. Hopefully with ice cream, a monkey, or $50,000, whichever he believes is appropriate compensation.