The Legend of the Dad Towel

When you arrive at the beach and realize you didn't bring any towels, it's your job to do your best Metroid Prime scanning impression and find a solution to the problem.

Photo by Amy Humphries on Unsplash

On Sunday, I returned from a weeklong vacation in Wisconsin. It was full of days at the beach, and nights at a table bullshitting with friends and family, while drinking slightly too much and too often. By the end, it was all Too Much. I was exhausted.

I have spent many weeks parenting by myself, with my wife out of town. But those trips happened when my kids were in school and daycare, which means, practically, I’m responsible for getting them out the door in the morning, picking them up in the afternoon, and handling the evening routine. That’s not a lot of Actual Parenting. The weekends are different, with entire days requiring plotting, but there’s a good chance they’re going to play with friends, which again chips away at those responsibilities. 

No such luck this time. I was in vacation mode, but my wife was still working. She was around, but the kids were broadly my responsibility. Figuring out a fun thing to do is the easy part, but being a solo parent is the fastest way to discover the weakest elements of your parenting game, and lay bare that you and your partner have silently divided up responsibilities, even if you’re not fully aware of it. It’s easy to get exposed.

Last week, we were in front of a beach, but it was cool: I’d packed the beach bag! Goggles? Check. Suits? Got ‘em. Mermaid toys? Of course. Towels? TOWELS?

Hmm.

My children, horrified and suddenly realizing why mom packs the bags, looked at me.

Don’t worry, kids. I had a solution. But, uh, I was going to have to take off my shirt.