Raging Dad

My raging undies

Last night, as I was getting ready for bed, I realized that my boxers had somehow managed to completely shred themselves. [They are pictured at left, with my naughty bits strategically placed so as to be invisible to you, Dear Reader.] This has never happened to me before. Maybe it is a common occurrence for other dads. It took me a few minutes to realize just what on Earth could have caused such trauma to my grungers.

At the barbecue, I was tossing Michael up over my head. Now, this is done every day in America by moms and dads alike, and usually does not result in boxer shredding. However, I was standing in the kiddie pool at the time, a strategy that I now know was ill-fated. As Michael reached the apex of the lift, my dogs lost their footing in the pool, and we both went down like sacks of grain. I attempted to lessen Michael’s impact by falling under him, with limited success. Fortunately, we were on soft grass and both of us stood up, uninjured. Except, it seems, for my unmentionables, which made the ultimate sacrifice.