“Hey, um, Nesbit, where is this going exactly?” Says a new next-door neighbor and new recruit for our neighborhood club, Dale.
“Oh, I don’t know. Sorry. I was watching The Patriot starring Mel “Lethal Weapon, Mad Max, drunk driving Gibson” and I got flashbacks to the Revolutionary War,” I say. “Is this how your club works?”
“Yep.”
“Okay. I think I’ll join in that case.” Now was the time to start our club meeting. This club is for all the Men in the neighborhood who have plenty of time on their hands. This organization (we mention this so we can receive tax breaks because lying to the IRS is acceptable) is as old as three years ago, and without further ado, the meeting shall begin.
“Hi, everybody, welcome to the society of the Stay At Home Dads or S.A.H.D for short.”
A cheer rang out through the crowd, amid the comb-overs and Dad Rock shirts with bands like The Foo Fighters and Creed.
“I’d like you all to meet our newest member, Dale.”
“Hi, Dale,” the group said in unison.
“Dale here is 45, his favorite band is AC/DC, his wife is a caterer, and this year is the 25th anniversary of his midlife crisis. Now I’d like to open the floor to you all. Let’s see what you all have been up to lately.”
“Hi, I’m Bill, stay-at-home dad.”
“Hi Bill,” the group says in a heavenly chorus that sounds like the voice of an angel: The B-52’s.
“This week, I paid Joseph down the street to mow my yard so I wouldn’t have to.”
It got so silent, so silent you could hear a pin drop. Then this merry band of men starts cheering.
“Bravo,” Jeff says.
In the back, a loud whistle came from Hank.
Out of nowhere they heard a distant voice call, “Bill, honey, I’m home. I’m making dinner.” It was Bill’s wife.
“Coming, hon. All right, nice meeting you all. I’ll see you at our next meeting,” Bill says as he leaves the group before they get to his initiation.
“Hi Wanda, how was your day?” Bill says to his wife.
“It was alright, darling. I had a wedding to cater, and there was someone who had a bit of an identity crisis and thought he was the Kool-Aid Man or something because he kept saying, ‘Oh yeah,’ or maybe he thought he was Macho Man Randy Savage, eh, who knows? How was your day, Dale?”
“My day was alright, dear. I got to meet some of the guys in the neighborhood and joined their Stay At Home Dads Club, or S.A.H.D. for short. It’s for guys in the neighborhood who are also stay-at-home dads.”
“Oh, how sad. It’s so wholesome that you’re already making friends with the neighbors.”
*
“He left us. He left before we got to his initiation. He just got up and left,” S.A.H.D. Nesbit said.
“What do we do now? This has never happened before. He just got up and left to attend dinner courtesy of his wife. I know he’s new to the neighborhood, but this has just never happened before,” Hank said.
“I know what needs to be done. I just know what we have to do. We have to give him his initiation. He’ll be back. I just know it, and we’ll be waiting. In the meantime, everyone who wants to share their opinion on the newest episode of Days of Our Lives?”
“Hey, everyone, nice to see you again,” Dale said when he attended the next S.A.H.D. meeting. As the meeting got underway, nobody said a single word to Bill, and not a single muscle moved.
“You left us during our last meeting, before your initiation,” Dale laments.
“Oh, sorry, my bad: I was hungry.”
“Well, it’s okay, no worry, no cry. But we still need to give you your initiation.”
“Oh, I can do that. What are we doing? hazing, drinking Flavor Aid, listening to Ace Of Base?”
Nesbit then responds, “No, silly. We’re going to kill your wife.”
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