Dad Is Fat by Jim Gaffigan Page A

“close contact and saliva.” Toddlers are always the contagion. Our home becomes the CDC every winter. Jeannie is obsessed with having a clean house, but our kids bring home viruses like they are collecting them. The virus will go around the family, taking its sweettime. Taunting us: “Oh, you think I’m done? Hardly. Just got my second wind. I’m taking another lap.”
    You don’t have to be a research scientist to figure out the origin of these virulent epidemics. They come from an experimental breeding ground specializing in the manufacture and mass dissemination of disease known as “the nursery school.”
    Picture an incubator filled with little germ-infested creatures crawling all over one another drooling and sneezing with their mouths open. Then draw them all into a tiny section of the incubator to use the “potty” and instruct them all to “wash their hands.” Then have each one of them turn on the faucet with their well-traveled little fingers that each harbor a multitude of secrets; run them for half a second under icy water that serves as a refreshing drink to the busy bacteria who live and work on said fingers; then make sure the faucet is turned off with the same fingers that turned it on so any of the viruses and bacteria that may have taken a rest stop on that faucet handle can hop back on their tiny finger chariots to fulfill their manifest destiny. One last stop at the towel that everyone has wiped his or her hands and/or noses on, and a whole new generation of infectious disease has been born.
    Did I mention “incurable”? There is nothing that you can do to prevent or cure these bugs that hit your family. Maybe with the first kid you will run to the doctor, but after that you know better. If you are dumb like me, you will be surprised to discover that antibiotics do not work on viruses. Turns out bacteria and viruses are totally different. They are not even distant cousins. No wonder I didn’t get into medical school. I mean Ididn’t try to get into medical school, but if I did, I totally would have failed that question on the medical school test.
    Your kid’s doctor will always give you the same advice about the virus: “You have to let it take its course.” In other words, “There’s nothing we can do.” So you return home to your flimsy bomb shelter totally vulnerable. Just waiting for the next inevitable attack.
    I don’t want to give the terrorists any ideas, but if I really wanted to cripple a city with biological warfare, my WMD of choice would have to be the toddler.

Secrets and Lies
    I like to think of myself as a relatively honest person. It’s usually just easier to be honest. However, the complexity of parenting leads you to lie to your children. Honestly, I’m shocked how often I lie to my children. Cute sentence, right? Maybe they aren’t all lies. I suppose some of it is just dishonesty. Some of it’s acting. Being a parent to a young child is being an actor. I’ve been lucky enough to act in movies, TV, and on Broadway, but I believe my finest acting moments have been with my children. Parents of young children are always acting. You act excited to read a story for the five-hundredth time. You act impressed someone went to the bathroom on the toilet. The excitement I show to some of the children’s scribbles should get me a Golden Globe nomination. Of course, this parental acting is a necessary form of encouragement. Most parental lies just seems pointless and almost abusive.

    Great job, honey!
    A man from the North Pole who slides down the chimney and brings presents seems so much more believable than a bunny that hides eggs. Somehow little kids believe all this stuff. It’s pathetic, really, how gullible they are. I understand that we want them to experience some of the magic of childhood before they are forced to grow up and face the harsh reality of gas bills and root canals, but really? Some of these frauds that we purposely perpetuate are just