Father of the Year.

Yesterday (Saturday) morning, I had a meeting to attend. I left J in charge of taking the wrecking crew to their swim lessons. J was looking at three hours of chasing one, two, and/or three wet boys around the local pool during and between lessons. (sorry, dear).

I stopped at a convenience store to grab a bit more caffeine and some chewing gum for the meeting.

In front of me in line - there he was... Father of the Year.

When I first looked, I thought that he had two giant cans of energy drink. On closer inspection, they each were 6.5% alcohol.

Now, I like a drink as much as the next guy - as long as the next guy isn't this guy. It was 7:45 a.m.

He recognized the guy behind me.

"Hey dude, how ya doin?" He waved his brown bagged drinks around and indicated that this was the necessary tool to get him through the morning with his kids... off they were to McDonalds so the kids could eat crap and play in the the playplace - and he could get silently shitfaced. Driving the kids there himself in his pickup.

For those of us questioning our parenting skills because our kids haven't learned not to interrupt adults at the table - perhaps we should at least be proud of something... we aren't driving drunk with our kids on Saturday morning.