I have always believed that certain events in your life will change the person that you are, regardless of what stage of life you’re in when they occur. Having sex for the first time, falling in love the first time, having your heart broken, breaking someone’s heart, getting married, getting divorced, finding your soul mate (whether you’re married or not), being diagnosed with a serious illness, losing a parent, losing a child, giving birth for the first time, and the one that currently has me ramped: Becoming a Grandparent. Yes, G is going to be a Granddyke.
We found out in August that my Stepdaughter was knocked up. She is only 17 and let’s just say that I did not take it well at all. Hitler would have drank from a fountain with Jews with more glee than I felt when I was informed of the impending doom lying ahead for our kid. In fact, I lost my shit completely, made an ass of myself, worse than ever. Considering I was a knuckle dragging drunk up until 15 months ago, that’s saying a lot. I declared their lives ruined. Wanted her to terminate the pregnancy. Stewed for days. Cried. Vomited. Raged. And otherwise adulted the fuck out of the entire situation.
The first ultrasound picture (which looked exactly like jack shit to me) changed all of that. Somewhere in that mass of blurry black and white was a little life developing. Tiny fingers and toes. Lungs, brain, kidneys. And I got a little bit excited. Well, maybe a lot excited.
We found out today, that she’s having a boy. (Thank Gods because damnit girls are a lot of drama). So, I am looking forward to about 18 years of grooming my grandson in the art of schooling the ladies, playing football, baseball, enjoying the coolest music, and being the most respectful, smart, creative, dude he can possibly be. I’ve already gotten him a Johnny Cash Folsom Prison onezie, 2 pair of Chuck Taylors, a Georgia Bulldogs onzie, Carolina Panthers one, Nirvana one, and a Crawl DMC one is en route. This boy is going to be a very well-rounded young man.
How could he not be? His mom is white, his daddy is black, he has a Granddyke, some homophobic black grandparents, and a racist white great grandpa (who doesn’t even know about him yet because…DAMN). If the boy can survive his own family, the world won’t have jack shit on him. And if the world so much as fucks with him, his GDyke is prepared for war.
So anyway. Big things happening in March. I need to take a diaper changing class, and learn how to properly hold, bathe, and dress the tiniest humans in existence. This is going to be more fun than the fucking fair.