Nuts, Nods, and Nuts. Things you cannot bring to the playground.

In my youth the public park was strictly a night time affair. An accessible yet isolated environment fit for blazing blunts and mixing rye with random energy drinks. An intermediate idiom of childhood and manhood, it was where the big kids could go to play. That was all some time ago, and I have since put away such childish things in order to become a man. Now is the time for my children to taste the dirt, and grass, and learn what capacity other children have for malice and cruelty. Playtime, I believe is what they call it.

To be clear I am not a single dad, but I spend most of my daytime raising the family and being domestic and shit. This means walking in the park, and playing on the playground. This means bumping shoulders with nannies and confused looking young women. This means other children of all stages of development, and all the problems that come along with small children. I begun to notice some patterns, and wish to share them. That way, you being a dad, will have some warning of what to expect. These points seem obvious, but hindsight is 20/20 after all. Here is some shit you can not do at your local playground.

You cannot bring peanuts, or any kind of nut, around children.

The nannies and the mothers scatter like you're shooting sugar coated razor blades from a slingshot. Now I get it, some kids are allergic to the point of fatality. I refuse to believe that every single child is deathly allergic to peanuts. Come on guys, I just want to feed squirrels with the boy, the critters make him happy. When he is given the choice between the other children and the local fauna the critters win every time. The last thing the world needs is a generation that associates having a relationship with nature with death. Speaking of nuts....

You cannot be a man

Anyone sees anything even resembling a male and they will cover their children's eyes, wrap them in a protective cloth, and haul ass to the nearest Starbucks. Now I get it if I'm there, alone, disheveled, and taking pictures while scratching my leg under a blanket, but I'm not. I'm dressed, somewhat lucid, walking a toddler by the hands and pushing him on a swing. It's not like I rented a child in order to be a creep. This is compounded by the fact that there are few and often no fathers present. Sometimes random ass kids want to play with their dad and see you as a lawful substitute. After all, most of these kids have a rented mom, why not rent a dad. It breaks my heart when I see a child in a swing that wants nothing more than a push. If I even extend my hand in order to facilitate forward momentum they'd call the cops, and I don't like making children cry by telling them to piss off just cause they want to play with their dad. Their dad ain't there, they want to play with any old dad. Kids don't give a fuck, and they don't understand why they can play with any old mom but will combust if they touch a pappy.

You cannot smile

Along the same vein as above, men are not allowed to smile at children. If they are there, they shouldn't be happy about it. With very limited exceptions, I have found that smiling at families is the most efficient way to get the park all to yourself. No smiling, no laughter, no fun of any kind. People seem to think that men can only get joy from children for one reason, and that the majority of people have reached this consensus is troubling and confusing. I just want the children to be happy. I want my son to be happy. I want the parents there to be, well not happy, but less stressed out. Their happiness is not my concern. I am not threat to anyone. To place the burden of being a hazard on a man that just wants to see some smiles and sunshine is damaging to the human experience on the whole.