The Guess Who

My daughter has given me Captain Trips. Fortunately, I think I'm one of the few that are immune so I'm on the road to recovery. But while I've been stewing in a hallucinogenic stupor for the last three days I've had the opportunity to think about something. I'm either the most selfish Dad in the world or the most truthful. In a baby class my wife made me go to when she was still expecting, the instructor/nurse asked if there were any questions. I raised my hand and asked the soon-to-be Dads in the room if there was anyone else who felt as if their baby or wife's pregnancy was taking away everything they used to love. Everyone in the room turned and looked at me as if I was crazy but I could see the truth in their eyes. I've always been the one in my family who couldn't wait to start a family. Since before I really knew where babies came from I've wanted a daughter who looked just like her mother. But, in month number six, as I scrubbed the beer stains off the hardwood floor of the Man-Cave in preparation for the Coming of the Kid I asked myself, 'What have I done?' I'll admit I volunteered the Cave because it was the coolest room in the summer and the warmest in the winter but I had no clue of what was in store. Yes, having my Dad come over and help me with some construction was awesome and the EVP I captured after the furniture was in the room but the kid was still imminent was neat but now I'm in the basement. My basement leaks. My cousin said my Cave is cool but there are spiders down there. I used to worry about electrocution by Fender but since I can't find time to play anymore I should live forever. In a very roundabout way I come to my point. The kid has been at daycare all week because of the Captain and I've been off work in the mornings but I can't play my git-box. It seems like whenever I have time to play and not interrupt people with bad AC/DC or crappy B.B. I'm sick. Or working midnights. Or Notre Dame is playing. Or cleaning needs done. Or it's raining and my basement is moist. I know a guy who played bass. I asked him why he doesn't play anymore and he said, as he glanced at his two year-old, "No time." I used to tell myself I'd never stop skating or hiking, biking, drawing, making salsa, playing video games, drinking foreign beers, driving slightly drunk or playing the guitar. But now I have "No time."