Why I Am A Horrible Father – Reason # 1023 (AKA – This isn’t a democracy, it’s a Ricktatorship)

and you thought I was a horrible father, Carl

Ahhh…..The Walking Dead.  The greatest show on television returns on Oct 23rd, and we cannot wait.  Brianna and I have bonded over this violent, grisly, bloody show more than anything else.  “Surely there are more appropriate things than a zombie apocalypse to bond with your teenage daughter”, you might say.  Don’t forget, there is a reason this blog is called “Why I Am A Horrible Father” and not “The Chronicles of Fatherhood Perfection”. 

Brianna and I have talked about The Walking Dead for hours.  Who will Negan kill?  Will Glenn and Maggie have a boy or girl?  Will Morgan take out Negan’s group with some Homemade Walking Stick Bad-Assery?  What would we do in a zombie apocalypse?

Brianna’s big plan is to make it to the Mississippi River with her family and friends and somehow acquire a barge. We would all live on the barge and be safe because “Walkers can’t swim, Dad”.  Of course, if someone gets unruly, turned into a walker, or otherwise does something she didn’t agree with, she would throw them off the barge with a simple hand gesture. I have been kicked off that hypothetical barge several dozen times over the years.  Of course, I do stuff like this, so she isn’t completely unjustified. 

Over the years Brianna and I may not always have seen eye to eye on a number of things.  Some weeks, we only spoke to each other to talk about The Walking Dead.  But we always had that little common ground every week to keep us communicating.  Rick makes a bad decision?  We were talking again. Why didn’t Lori’s car crash kill the baby?  Ooh, I hope it turns to a walker and tears itself out.  Carl’s out roaming again?  Keep calm and eat pudding. 

But the point is: find something to bond with your kids. It doesn’t matter what it is, just that the lines of communication remain open.  Even if those lines are used to communicate that you both wish a certain asshat character meet a gory demise, only to be kicked right in the feels that his death ultimately redeemed him (looking directly at you, Merle). 


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