A Chicago father known as Daddy shared an awkward “wet one”
with his son Bub last week, pushing masculine insecurities into the red and prompting
an immediate Rambo marathon.
“I LOVE BOOBIES!!!” Daddy screamed to no one in particular.
“And machine guns. And foxholes. And camaraderie and musk and the occasional
group shower. But mostly boobies.”
The involved have been tight-lipped about the open-mouth
incident, which apparently took place during a routine diaper change.
“Basically, I try to nurture my kid and he starts rounding
second on me,” Daddy summated. “Save that shit for your mother. Wait…”
“In my defense, I’d had, like, six or seven ounces of milk,”
Bub said. “I was completely hammered.”
“My son is obviously not comfortable with man on man
affection,” Daddy said. “Maybe we’ll try a hug in a decade or so, buddy.”
“I’ve heard whisperings of this ‘affection’ thing, but I never
thought it would look like Daddy inching his face up to mine, screaming ‘Papa
Kissyface! Papa Kissyface!’ like some kind of retarded parrot,” Bub said. “I
mean, what IS that?”
Asked if he thought that by creating the Papa Kissyface
character, Daddy was in effect, dissociating himself from himself to be able to
express affection, no matter how odd the form, and that perhaps he was the one
who was uncomfortable giving and receiving affection, Daddy said:
“That’s kind of a leading question, isn’t it?” Then added, “Not
to mention fucking stupid.”
Asked if he thought his son was too young for a bloody Rambo
marathon, Daddy responded:
“I don’t know, is the pope too young to shit in the woods? I
wish my dad had taught me how to string claymores and change a banana clip
under duress.”
The two did, however, come to terms on the Father/Son
Affection Statement, which clearly prohibits nearly all forms of outward affection,
except for (of course) the occasional high-five.
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