Manifesting Bonus Dad Vibes
A life I thought I couldn't have surprises me almost daily...
Being a bonus dad is pretty awesome. But when your daughter calls up crying from an IHOP (International House of Pancakes) parking lot, and you aren’t sure why, you get in the car and make a two-hour round-trip to get her. A few nights ago, the Dandy Daughter called late at night, needing us to pick her up. It turns out she wasn’t in any trouble, just teenage peer drama.
My apologies. I shouldn’t have said “just” teenage peer drama. It was a huge world-ending cataclysmic deal of teenage drama … ::: bonus dad chuckle ::: … we’ve all been there.
On the way home, Dan asks, “Randy, she (the Dandy Daughter) thinks a chocolate milkshake will help in this situation; what do you think?” I replied,” Well, a chocolate milkshake is not a legitimate coping mechanism, BUT it does have a very comforting quality in situations like these… I think we should get some milkshakes.” So there we are, two hours after Dan and I piled in the car, and the three of us were getting milkshakes from a drive-thru at 1 in the morning, somehow onion rings and fries got involved, but … you know comfort food doesn’t like to be limited.
Once the comfort started to kick in, we started laughing about random things like how all the cool kids have late-night IHOP drama stories.
Well, they do. Mine involves a near riot between drag queens, lesbians, and my gay roommates at a Nashville IHOP at 3 AM (back in the late ‘80s). What’s your IHOP drama story? If you are cool, you should have one. Sidenote: I still love their breakfast food :)
And as she went to bed last night, I told her I loved her, and she responded in kind. Then the fur babies (Eli the Dramahuahua and Queen Gigi the Grey) and I piled on our bed, missing Daddy Dan, and went to sleep.
I never, ever thought I would be any kind of parent. I think I'm doing alright when it comes to being a Bonus Dad.
At least, I hope so…