Fringe Benefits of Fatherhood
Laying in bed on Friday morning, I couldn't help but appreciate how peaceful it was. Sam was still asleep, the dogs were calm, and the cat was presumably hiding. I rolled out of bed, showered, and shaved.
Walking into the hall, I met Aubrey coming back from the kitchen. I opened the kids' room door and saw Sam asleep on the floor. Pointing this out to my wife, I said, "I bet he was up playing with Ember last night."
"Awww," Aubrey said, smiling.
Then the stench hit; the foul odor made us both gag. I turned on the light and noticed the vomit on the floor underneath Sam.
"Do you want to clean the kid or the floor?" I generously offered.
Aubrey poked Sam's diaper, then said, "This is a two-person job."
At this point, Aubrey and I have a system for dealing with over-filled diapers: one adult holds the toddler by his armpits while the other removes the diaper and begins the cleaning process. The holder then rotates the child into a laying position so the cleaner can finish up. Meanwhile, the holder bags up the used items into trash bags we have on standby, throws the bag (or bags) away, and cleans the floor. At first blush, the position of holder may seem the more desirable of the two, but, I can assure you: that is not how scent works.
I carried the drowsy, now-crying Sam to the bathroom and held him in place over the tiled
bathroom floor for easy cleanup. Aubrey pulled Sam's pants down and revealed a diaper that was brown on the outside as well as the inside.
"Tub!" Aubrey said.
It took me a second, but I wrangled the small human into the porcelain tub and Aubrey moved in with trash bags at the ready.
Now, I have never vomited from smell alone, but when Aubrey opened the diaper, my stomach sought to leave this world behind. I wretched, instinctively turning my head away from Sam.
"Jon, if you vomit on me, I will divorce you," Aubrey said moments before gagging herself.
Between dry heaves and stinging eyes, neither of us operated at more than 40% capacity. We struggled together, both aiming our gagging into the tub while Sam wailed in protest.
"Hose him down!" Aubrey called.
Coming from Aubrey, this is no small request. Sam hates spraying water with a blind rage. But it couldn't be helped: the Eskimo baby was covered in waste from both ends. I grabbed the handheld sprayer, checked the temperature, and hosed him down. Sam shrieked in protest, but I barely heard him above the smell.
Aubrey took over shower duties while I left to throw away the trash and clean the bedroom carpet.
After all was clean, Aubrey and I were regrouping in the living room.
"You're still taking Ember to the vet this morning, right?" Aubrey asked.
I had scheduled the appointment a week before at a time when I wasn't supposed to work at the airport. I hadn't realized the schedule conflict until that moment.
"I had to pick up a shift flying today. Would you mind taking her?" I asked.
"That's ok. I plan to stay home with Sam anyway," Aubrey said.
After Aubrey, Sam, and Ember left, I set about to take care of the [patient] dogs. I fed them and then took them on their morning walk. With limited time, I opted for a nearby trail.
Turning a corner, I saw a large dog up ahead. The dog was off leash (which is common and accepted here) and the owner was out of sight. To avoid a row, I began turning my crew around when the dog charged. From 100' away, the behemoth ran at us barking and snapping. Peak and Rue stood obediently behind me, so I stepped into the other dog's path.
"Stop!" I commanded in my biggest, 'I'm in charge' voice.
This typically works, at least temporarily. But this beast didn't break stride. It shot around my left side and attacked Peak. Rue, having no interest whatsoever in fighting, left.
The strange dog was nearly twice Peak's size and used this advantage to pin Peak against a snow bank.
"Stop!" I said again.
This time it worked. The attacking dog moved to the side, limping. Peak stood in front of me, bleeding. I quickly checked him for severe wounds, then led us away from the dog and towards home.
At home, I discovered Peak's canine tooth had broken above the gum line. Blood poured from the roof of his mouth. As I wiped his chin and nose, he winced in pain. Knowing Aubrey was currently at the vet, I gave them a call.
"Thank you for calling, VCA. How may I help you?" came the cheery voice of the receptionist.
"My dog just broke his tooth. It's above the gum line and I'm looking for some advice on this," I said,
"Sorry sir, we only have one vet working right now and she's with a patient," the receptionist said.
"Ember?" I asked.
"Umm... "
"Ember is my cat, she's there with my wife. They won’t mind the interruption and this is more important," I said.
"Can you hold on for a moment?" she asked.
After a brief pause, the receptionist came back on, "Mr. Kulikowski? I'm sorry, but we can't get you in now and don't have any appointments for the rest of the day. I recommend going to an emergency vet like Midnight Sun."
"Thank you," I said and hung up to call the aforementioned vet.
Midnight Sun didn’t have availability for several hours. So, I hung up and dialed Aubrey.
"Hey babe," Aubrey said when she picked up, "the cat shit in my car on the way here."
"That sounds awful," I said, "I just sent you a picture. Would you mind showing it to the vet? Peak's tooth is broken."
"Oh my god," Aubrey said, "is he alright?"
"I don't know. Can you see what the vet thinks?" I asked.
After a brief pause, Aubrey returned.
"Bring him in," she said.
I called work and told my boss I'd be late.
"Don't worry about coming in today," he said.
Mike's a hard man to read at the best of times. So, given the situation, I couldn't tell whether he gave me the time off out of generosity or frustration. But, that was an issue for the future and I had more pertinent problems to solve.
I packed Peak up and headed to the vet. After the intake, Aubrey and I had most of the family crammed into a bathroom-stall-sized exam room. Peak, with his bloody snaggletooth, paced and slipped across the linoleum floor.
The vet came in to take a look at him. She started by petting him, then feeling the rest of his body for fight wounds. Satisfied, she turned to his jaw. I held Peak tightly while she looked inside his mouth.
"It's broken in the skull, but I think I can set it manually," she said.
Then, she held Peak's snout in one hand while applying pressure to the out-turned tooth with the other.
"YEEOPP!!!" Peak cried.
"I think we'll need to sedate him," the vet said.
"How much will that be?" I asked.
"For a dog Peak's size, somewhere around $400."
I almost laughed at the amount. Peak gets hurt so frequently and in such creative and expensive ways that we have a special savings account to pay for the repairs. I had been bracing for a quote in the thousands.
The vet left and sent a tech in to drug our dog. Peak fought valiantly but soon passed out in a pool of drool. At that point, the vet returned.
Again, she held Peak’s snout in her left hand. With her right thumb, she pushed in and down. A hollow, porcelain, sucking sound accompanied the bone popping back together.
I was shocked by how quickly the vet had fixed it and relieved that it went so smoothly.
"Fuck yeah!" I said, slapping the vet on her shoulder.
"Jon!" Aubrey yelled.
"Sorry," I said.
The vet smiled at me.
Knowing that The Bicycle Shop was short-staffed, I opted to head there and at least work a few hours.
"Would you mind if I drove the Subaru?" Aubrey asked.
Now, I really like my Subaru; I’ve had it for several years, done a lot of work and a few upgrades to it, and it feels just right. But, it's bigger and drives better on ice than Aubrey's car, so I understood.
"No, go ahead," I said and took the Honda.
As soon as I opened the car door, I could smell the ammonia scent of cat pee.
"Aubrey, did the cat pee in here?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah. It mixed with the poop and soaked into the cushion. Sorry," Aubrey said as she jumped into my Subaru.
When I arrived at work, a picture message from Aubrey was waiting for me; Peak had pooped in my car. This finished off a hat-trick of feces that covered both of our cars and our apartment. For those curious: Resolve Carpet Cleaner turns into a fine, frozen dust at 10 degrees below zero.
The next day, my boss called to check on Peak. Without a hint of frustration, he made sure our pup would be alright.
The casual reader may get the impression that caring for children and animals is all tears, poop, and broken bones, and there is certainly more of each in my life now than as a single man. However, parenthood of both humans and animals also affords opportunities such as shrieks of joy from Sam when he sees an airplane fly low overhead, fun family movie nights when it's too cold to go outside, and Peak valiantly defending his family. Being single, or even married with no kids can be thrilling: nights out, spontaneous travel, and exciting mountain climbs. But caring for
those you love and making the world better for others fills the soul.