Dating a Single Dad

Dad! My Sister is Covered in Poop...Dating a single dad


Following the exciting New Year, completion of my first Dopey Challenge and having settled into my new position things were looking up. I was preparing for a month long training exercise in Fort Polk LA, AKA the middle of nowhere and seemed well. Following the cruise the single father, our forever single friend and myself continued to hang out during our available off time. The father was no longer dating the women we referred to in the office as dependable Amy, and our forever single friend would soon move to Arizona to take a position at Fort Huachuca. I continued to see my young distraction after the race but things were starting to cool as work life picked up. 

I remained adamant about not becoming involved in a serious relationship. Even more so about dating a person with children. It was not that I was opposed to the idea of dating a single father during my fertile life, but after so many failed cycles, loss from miscarriage and inability to adopt, I could not handle another loss. The thought of becoming attached to children and having to face yet another loss would have ended me. But none of those things truly mattered since I was planning to remain single for the foreseeable future. 

The weekends continued as usual. Sundays were spent with the single dad, our afternoons consisted of seeing a movie, attending a local event, or drinks at a local bar or new hot spot. We would chat about our latest dates. Harass one another about their lack of dating, or their horrible dating app profile. Usual our time was spent having fun, discussing work (what warrants do for fun), or one of a million other things. The single dad’s children were close with all of us and very used to our presence.

Sundays were for grilling a football and the children had come to expect us all at the house for the day.  By 10:00 on Sunday mornings his son was usually asking about forever single and my own whereabouts if we had not arrived at the house. By this point the father’s almost four year old daughter had decided I was her best friend, and that her dad could now have her former best friend, forever single. She decided her bother did not need a best friend. 

She was kind of a boss b@#$h even at 3. While at my house one day she noticed the blue toilet water. I had just put in a new tablet so the water was VERY blue. She took one look at it and decided it was dirty and that daddy needed to clean it, even though it was my house. She was basically my spirit animal. On Sundays as I’d sip cocktails and play with her in the living room, I would watch the game and BS with the other adults. The guys would cook. This is the life she knew. Being raised by a single dad and dominating her bother seven years her senior, she had basically grown up running S@#$. She shall not doubt one day run a company or a prison. Either way I’ll be impressed. 

His son was a lovable, go with the flow 11 year old. Sweet and genital, but every bit the lineman he played in football. He was easy going with his younger sister and basically a 70 year old man trapped in a little boy’s body. He usually couldn’t wait to get to bed by eight or even sooner some nights. He woke up at 0530 to prepare his hot tea in the Keurig before watching his morning cartoons and getting ready for school. He would then head off to the bus many mornings before his dad or sister were even awake. One Friday night during our wine and cheese night at the house with our co-workers he came out of his room around 7 PM. One of our co-workers was bringing his son. The boys were friends and the plan was that the boys would play video games in his room. He came out in his pajamas and asked when they would be arriving because it was getting kind of late. How could you not love this little old man. He was sweet and smart, and best of all just like his father in a way that drove his father crazy. At work his father’s argumentative nature would drive many of us crazy. At home his son returned the favor and this brought forever single and I to tears in laughter on more than one occasion.

At work a vacuum \ air filtration company was the all the buzz in the office. The single dad and I were asked by almost every co-worker if the two of us would pretend to be a couple and watch a presentation for the product. Apparently individuals that had previously purchased the vacuum received credit towards their own if they could convince other couples, matching a set of income criteria and that had not previously viewed the presentation, to allow a sales person to come to their house and watch the presentation. I know the things we do for friends.

After months of being asked, we finally gave in to the adult peer pressure, and agreed to watch the presentation. Peer pressure seemed to involve a bit more fun during my teenage years but life goes on. We agreed in part to help our friends out but mostly so we would stop being asked daily and get our lives back. The following weekend I came over to his house and we played the role of couple. We drank Thai Basil Margaritas and watched a woman with an air filtration \ vacuum, demonstrate to us just what a dirty shithole he lived in. 

I am not going to lie to you. The product was impressive but with a price tag of $5000 or trying to convince five couples to participate in viewing the presentation, neither of us could justify the cost. As the margaritas continued to flow and she continued to show just how much dirt was in the house I’d have to say that the idea did became more appealing until reminded of the price. We opted that he should just continue to live in his dirty shithole of house or just move after burning the place down. 

Eventual the presentation ended. The couple that had conned us into viewing the presentation stayed for a little while longer and we joked and discussed work. The couple of course circled back to when the two of us were actually going to start dating for real. This was still not going to happen. After hours of margaritas I was way too drunk to drive home. I remained at the house and we continued to drink and hangout. That night I slept on the couch and the next morning we all went to brunch. 

The following weekend was a four day. The plan was that I would spend the night so we could leave first thing in the morning for the two hour drive to Savannah. Savannah is one of my favorite US cities and home to one of my favorite restaurants, Mrs. Wilkes. Friday came, my bag was packed for our trip and we spent wine and cheese night watching movies with the kids until it was time for bed. His son decided he was going to turn in at around 730 at night. His daughter, the night owl, went to bed at 800, although if given the opportunity she would stay up all night.  

With the kids in bed it was time to get a drink or more and watch a movie. As usual we enjoyed a few drinks, laughed and joke about work and people we knew until around 1000 at night. Eventually he began to work a knot out of my back and as with most massages that occur after drinking we kissed for the first time. 

Having known each other for years and being close friends that had been drinking we didn’t exactly stop there. For the next few hours we continued to make out like high schoolers, at some point making our way to the bedroom. After an hour or two of our high school make out session clothes began to come off. At this point it was late. We were both tired and had to get up in the morning for a two hour drive, but we were also at the point of no return. Then came a loud knock came at the door. It was single fatherhood knocking loud and clear. 

“DAAAAD!” it was the voice of his son. 

“What is it?” he responded, as annoyed as any adult male with an interrupted erection would be.

“My sister is covered in poop and she won’t let me help her clean it up!” his son responded. 

And there is was. Single parenting in all its glory. When you are naked, and microseconds from getting laid, only to have a child knock at your door because another child is covered in poop. What else can you really do but laugh. 

And so began the adventure of dating a single dad.