The Strange Skill Sets of Fathers

Fathers have to be a jacks-of-all-trades when it comes to their kids. Whether it’s catching them when they fall, fixing their toys, researching whether glow stick liquid is toxic (it’s not by the way), or settling disputes over which boy is wearing which other boy’s underwear, there are many different skills to learn or sharpen. 

But there’s another set of scenarios you deal with as a dad that involves a collection of odd skills most people probably don’t consider. For example, I’m an expert at disarming a toddler of a pencil. Two-year-olds love pointed objects and have a knack for finding pencils everywhere. You’ll never see it on a resume, but there are dads out there with 007 level skill at disarming a toddler wielding a pencil. 

Speaking of odd skill sets,  you know those pit crew guys who change racecar tires in a matter of seconds during a race? Well, I can do that but with kids shoelaces. I haven’t gotten to the point where I can re-tie a shoe while a kid is walking, but that’s because I only have one hand available at any given time because the other hand is busy disarming the 2-year-old with the #2 Ticonderoga rapier.

There’s also the “too-quiet” skill. This one is fairly well known, but it’s still remarkable. The ability to suddenly hone in on the lack of standard noises in a room across the house and identify shenanigans afoot from afar is impressive. I had heard other parents talk about it before but didn’t appreciate it until I jumped up from the living room and ran into the hallway bathroom to find the 3-year-old in the preparatory stages of flushing a Mickey toy down the toilet. I don’t know what sense picks up silence, but it works.

Not all dad skills are good however. You know how some moms and grandmas seem to have the knack for feeling a kid’s forehead and detecting a fever? Well I have the opposite of that. Anytime I touch one of the boys’ foreheads I misinterpret the warmth as a fever. And every time I’m like, “this time, they really do have a fever.” And every time, my wife is like, “nope.” 

Also, I have no skill at putting on toddler jammies. Actually I have negative skill. The 2-year-old has no skill and that’s why he brings the jammies to me. I have negative skill, that’s why his mom has to come rescue him after I put his head in the arm hole. Again. 

My strongest odd (and most useful) skill has to be the ability to transport sleeping toddlers from the van to their bed without waking them. Like a bomb squad operative I can handle extremely volatile packages and navigate them to a safe area. I say navigate because retrieving a toddler from one of the back seats in the van, unbuckling him, climbing down out of the van, avoiding the other 4 or 5 kids buzzing about, and taking the 42 steps from the driveway to their room is fraught with things that can wake them up. If disarming pencil wielding toddlers makes you James Bond, then successfully transporting sleeping toddlers is completing Mission Impossible.

Alright, that’s it. I’m updating my resume.