One of the perks of being a father is getting to play with toys again. You get to run around outside like a crazy person, play with sweet Lego sets, shoot kids with Nerf guns, hang out in awesome blanket forts... the list could go on and on. All of this is awesome, and then out pops baby number two.
Things start off well enough. Many games of hide-and-seek are played, and as the little one learns to crawl, everyone gets in on the fun. The kids continue to age, and soon legit games of tag start happening, and rough-housing with dad becomes more of an MMA fight. One child tests your stamina by wearing you down with constant body blows, while the other goes for the knockout punch to the head. Ah memories.
And then it happens... slowly at first, but very noticeable to the keen observer. Upon arrival home from work, you are no longer instantly tackled. In fact you can sit down, read the newspaper (but who does that anymore) and unwind without so much as a glimpse of a child. You, my friend, have become a supplemental playmate.
With two children roaming freely, your services are no longer needed. Gone is the begging to play ponies. You have been replaced by a more interesting, and imaginative sibling. Oh sure, from time to time your skills will be required, like to un-knot a rope, or lift something heavy, but make no mistake, you add very little value to play-time.
At this point you have two options. You can give in to your ‘supplemental’ status, or fight like mad to become playmate of the year... the non-nude kind, because that will get you arrested. I say you should, nay, you must, choose option two! The moment you accept that you are merely supplemental is the moment you become boring. In the boring world, your days are filled with the mundane tasks of adulthood. You eat, work, eat, sleep, repeat until you are for all intents and purposes, a zombie. Gone will be the sound of laughter escaping over your lips. Gone will be that annoying itching that comes from rolling around in the grass too much. Gone will be the wincing pain of smashed testicles from a sweet gymnastics maneuver gone wrong. All the time spent with your kids... gone, and then you die.
So I implore you. Do not settle for supplemental.