I push a stroller.  Check that.  I rock a stroller.  I rock that 4 wheeled double seating behemoth like a mofo.  I rock that thing like Mick Jagger rocks a stadium.  I rock my stoller like  Takeru Kobayashi rocks a hot dog (he’s the Japanese hot dog eating champ.)  I have put all pretenses aside brothers, I own that thing.  People don’t think that a man and a father should be that good pushing a stroller, like we don’t know what to do.  Maybe we don’t have the practice.  Pshtt, I’m a stay at home dad, I could write the freaking book on stroller pushing.  I eat curbs for lunch.  I part crowds like Moses parts the Red Sea.  I bash down doors like a swat team all purpose vehicle.  I can do tricks with this thing that would make Shaun White give me his gold medal.

There’s no shame in this.  I know who I am, I don’t need to be accepted.  I’m a dude, and I stay home with the kids.  I gave up the career.  I had an office that overlooked the new JerryWorld in Dallas.  I passed it on to the next guy with a handshake and a head nod.  Good luck my man, I’ve got some parenting to do.  And now I am the Earnhardt of stroller pushing. And I can do more.  Things that I never thought I would be able to do.

I just don’t make a steak for dinner.  Nope, that’s rookie weekend dad parenting.  I serve Steak Au Poivre.  I can’t even say it, but I can make it.  That’s french baby.  And yup, those are real, from scratch, mashed potatos.  My mashed potatos are so good that Richard Dryfus wants to sclupt a mountain out of them.

See that stain on my daughters shirt.  I own that freaking stain.  That stain is my beotch.  That stain quivers in fear when I show up with my industrial strength cleanser with new and improved Oxyclean.  I might just spit some tobacco juice on that stain for an extra challenge.  I laugh at red koolaid stains, give me something that will atleast fight back a bit, make me sweat.

Sure, I don’t close the big deal anymore.  I don’t go over budgets and approve expenditures.  I don’t do the working lunch and I don’t network.  I gave it all up to be the stay at home dad.  I don’t do morning meetings and I no longer recieve any employee of the quarter citiations.  I don’t get the bonus, I don’t get the parking spot, I don’t get the company expense account.  I don’t build relationships.  But I do build the most awesome Lincoln Log cabin you’ve ever seen.  A sweet 10 room mansion that comes with a jacuzzi tub and it’s own stripper pole.  Mine aren’t cabins.  Mine are complexes.  Royality even have to make reservations to stay in my Lincoln Log cabins.

I can change a diaper faster than a Marine can reassemble his rifle.  I can wipe snot with a one handed kleenex move that is so smooth you’ll want to ask me out for a date.  I apply band-aids and kisses with hands that are steadier than a brain surgeon.  I break up fights like I belong in the Octogon.  You want peace in the middle east, you want someone to teach them to share?  Give me a diaper bag, a stroller and our Elmo story book about making friends. I’ll have it sorted out in 2 weeks.  And if not?  Then time-outs for everyone while I watch reruns of South Park.

Sometimes I do miss getting paid and I don’t think my new found skill set will end up on any resume that I put out in the future.  I doubt that I’ll sit across from a hiring manager and explain to him how and why it is awesome to get crayon off the wall without jacking up the paintjob.  I’m sure he won’t understand the difficulties and intricacites of difusing a gum in hair situtation and won’t comprehend my complex negotiatins of  who hit who first scenerios.  In fact, I doubt he’ll find that awesome at all.

But my wife and kids think it’s awesome.  And in my line of work, that’s like a 7 figure salarly with a company car.