Dad Entry #191

WARNING: overshare alert! You should skip this paragraph. I want you to skip it. Megan and I were in CVS last night after her basketball practice. I had a 20% off coupon and decided to buy some Rogaine. Yeah, all kinds of uncool activities going on here, androgenetic alopecia (sounds much better than male pattern baldness, doesn’t it?), coupon usage, late-night low-willpower shopping, my innocent daughter as witness to my vanity. Although, I will stand by coupon usage as totally NOT uncool. Single-fatherhood is a wallet-stinger. Anyway, I picked up a box of Rogaine and, unbeknownst to me, Megan read it. She said “Hair Regrowth Treatment?” I said, “What?” Megan said, “But you have so much hair already, Dad.” I was about to lavish her with “Thank you’s” but realized she meant all of me, including my arms, chest, face, etc. So I pointed to the spot where a yarmulke might rest on my head if I wore one. Megan understood instantly. I’ve never seen someone so suddenly overcome with pity. Her face and posture changed, she cringed and frowned, and with funeral-worthy sympathy and sorrow she said, “Oh, yeah, you do need that. I’m sorry, Daddy.”

As we walked away from the styling and 'regrowth' products, I mumbled, “I’m losing my hair because my testosterone is so high." I'm not sure those are related but it made me feel better. Am I still overdisclosing? Next, we stopped in the cosmetics area. Megan likes to look at fake nails. Then we skipped happily to the snacks aisle. We selected some things for school lunches and Dad’s midnight raids. I have a bottomless appetite for unhealthy crap every night around 11:00 PM. I eat very little or very healthy throughout the day otherwise. Then I undergo a Hyde-like conversion. Megan calls my new insatiable monster-self a leprechaun. (Apparently, 'leprechauns' terrorize their school classrooms the night before every St. Patrick's Day. Which probably confuses and scares the crap out of Megan.) So yeah, I hammer the school lunch goodies at night. If there's a crime scene in the morning, a crumb or a wrapper, Megan investigates. She grumbles when she confirms her chocolate chip granola bars have been thinned while she’s sleeping. I top those suckers with huge globs of peanut butter and inhale them in microseconds. I wash 'em down with milk. Then I unwrap the next one and repeat. It’s very satisfying.