Where's my AARP membership?

It's official folks - I am now that guy.

It's not like I purposely set out to be that guy. It wasn't my life long dream to become that guy. I actually tried my best to avoid becoming THAT guy.

It just sorta happened. Ya know, outta my control.

You see one minute I am a cool, with-it, got it going on, hot dad. I can roll with the punches and hang with the best of them. Then the next thing ya know, I am calling the cops on my nextdoor neighbors to shut down their Halloween festivities.

I have become THAT guy.

Was it that the my darling 17 month old could not sleep? Not in the least bitl. She was dead to the world enjoying her dreams of ponies and princesses or whatever else captivates a 17 month old's brain. She could have cared less that a bunch of twenty somethings were raging next door. She was clueless.

It was me.

I was the one annoyed. It had been a long week full of meetings, deadlines, colds and problems. I wanted to sleep but the music and rumble of laughter and fun was keeping me from getting my beauty rest.

So I did it.

That's right. I did it. I called 311, they patched me to 911 and I called the cops. I played the Grinch that tried to steal Halloween.

Now I am THAT GUY. And all I feel is old. Guess it's time for my AARP membership?

The Journey of Life

I know that I am only 41 and can in no way (unless from the mouth of a wisecracking teenager) be referred to as old. But the fact of the matter is that I am getting older and …it kind of scares me.

The journey from cute little awkward kid to handsome, philandering young adult, to Hot Dad has been quite a ride. Yes, I’ve gone though some rough patches and yes, I’ve wanted to hit the ‘rewind’ button a time or two, but now I find myself frantically searching for the ‘pause’ button…or at the very least life’s slow motion controls.

Though I am semi comforted by Mariah’s adoration of old men, I am still having a hard time with the impending transformation from Hot Dad to decrepit and wrinkly geezer sporting a broken hip and wearing Depends.

Though I am in relatively good shape, I still find myself waking up slower with joints that creak for the first hour or so (or until well lubricated with multiple cups of coffee) of each day. My bladder and bowel control’s ‘motherboard’ seems to be on the brink as I tend to spend about as much time in the can as I do parenting. My feet get cramped and achy when I am up and walking around too much and a cool breeze can stiffen my neck before I can even get the window closed. My back has both good and back days, but when I use it for much more than picking up a pile of dirty clothes….she kicks my ass for days on end.

Now Mariah keeps telling me that I just need to exercise more and that I will feel better when I get on a good workout regimen. I don’t know if she is just looking out for me…or if she is looking for me to buff up and uncover the buried six-pack that was once visible and give the arms and chest of a college athlete. Regardless…when I hear her, or anyone else say, “Working out will make you feel better.” All I know is that when I work out…all that happens is that I get tired, sore and cranky.

Well, Thursday morning I have a full physical and though I want to go, I’m a bit scared that I’ll get some bad news…or that things are going to have to drastically change in my life.

Getting old like this would not be so bad...Look at how HOT Mariah is.

Is it normal for me to be going through these thoughts at 41 freaking years old??????