“If glitter can work on a stripper, then it can work on a cake.”
As soon as that had left my mouth, Hossmom’s eyes got crazy wide. Her mouth dropped and she just stared at me. Not because what I said wasn’t funny, lets be honest here—that’s comedic genius. No, she was shocked because I had just said it point blank into the camera that was filming for a potential reality show on stay at home dads. I thought I heard the producer laugh though. Just want to point that out.
Hossmom has a freak out whenever we have company. Now imagine that the company is potentially a couple million people (I had high hopes for the show!), all silently judging you and your house keeping. When our producer, who we Dads nicknamed Double D (DD), said she wanted to film an evening with us, Hossmom went into high gear. Me, I’m just the talent and try to stay out of the way. Hossmom handed me the mother of all chore lists. Lists that even the great scribes of old would look at and go “Shit man, we can’t do all that.” It was practically a memo on our own peanut butter and jellied smeared stationary. There were 63 items on it and covered 3 pages. Single spaced, front and back. This is the point in the blog that I point out that I’m not actually getting paid for any of this. I’m just the pretty face.
I reassured Hossmom that this was just the casting tape, that the only people who would see it was some network executives who would obviously be dazed by the glare off my bald head and awesome parenting skills. And DD would only be n our house one evening. She would be with the other SAHD’s the other days she was in town. And as she would just be with us one evening, I doubt very much that she would actually film EVERY GOD DAMN CLOSET OR OUR SILVERWARE DRAWER. So there were somethings on the list that I refused to do.
Which was good because as DD was on her way to the house she said that part of what she wanted to see was how I clean with the kids. The whole role reversal thing of the SAHD world. Then she would watch us have dinner, have a birthday cake for Hossmom (it was her birthday), put the kids down to bed, and then interview us as a couple about our situation. Of course, when DD told me that, the house was immaculate thanks to my whip wielding wife. But no problems here because I have given spawn to the two most destructive children in the history of the world. They would wreck the tower of Babel.
I gave Little Hoss and Bubba Hoss a box of cheerios, threw away the rest of my chore list, and let the magic happen. I drank a soda. Within 20 minutes there was a decent sized mess that revolved around “My Cheerios!”. When DD got there, there was plenty to clean.
DD was nothing what I thought a producer would be. She wasn’t a chain smoker, didn’t make and break careers over a scotch brunch, and was not as well endowed as her nicknamed suggested. She was from Jersey, but no Snooki fake tan. She didn’t have any collagen and I’m pretty sure there was no gold rope chain around her neck. She was, well, normal. But just because I know DD will read this, she was normal in a hot way. Immediately I was at ease with her and had no worries about letting her in my house with her camera.
Filming began with the minions and I doing normal cleanup. Little Hoss got out the shop vac, which I still keep in my living room, and vacuumed up all the Cheerios while Bubba Hoss ate the rest of them off the floor. Then we moved on to the windows. Little Hoss did the top of the windows while sitting on my shoulders, I did the middles, and Bubba Hoss cleaned the bottoms. We have a great system.
Finally it was time to make dinner and Hossmoms birthday cake. As a seasoned parent I should know this very simple parenting rule: Never get distracted when a 3 year old and a cake are in the same room. I was answering a question that DD had asked me, I was deep in thought giving out some more nuggets of parenting genius. I turned my back on the unfinished cake while I was giving my little self serving speech. 5 minutes later I turned aback around to check on the kids and I see the tail end of Little Hoss ripping out a huge chunk of cake. Interview over, time to parent again. This had to be the third or fourth time she dug her fingers in there as there was a huge hole on the left side of the cake. The camera caught her doing it all. Welcome to my life, America.
We tried to repair the cake as best as we could, or as best as a man who doesn’t bake and his 2 toddlers can. We put frosting in the gigantic holes and threw some holy water over it to cleanse its spirit. After it was all said and done, the cake looked like it was cooked by a middle aged man and 2 toddlers. That’s not what you want in a birthday cake. So I did the only thing that I could think of, the thing that I knew from my 20’s could make anything look respectable and not coked out and high on desperation. I got the glitter. As Little Hoss and I were applying the glitter, Hossmom walked in and I said my little joke.
Again I stand by how funny I thought that was.
The rest of the night was a normal Hossman family night, with the exception that Hossmom kept her pants on. You’ve never seen a lady jump into a pair of PJ’s as fast as that lady. DD filmed us messing up the homemade pizza dinner, singing David Allen Coe songs as bathtime appropriate, and going to bed. At the end of the night, I was pretty talked out. We did the interview as a couple where again I thought I was laying down gold. We also drank a lot of wine.
The next day we would shoot a playgroup with my other stay at home dads. Hitman, Scrum, Ladies man, Larry Geographic, and the Hippie. DD was about to get a full dose of the SAHD life. The stripper cake was just the opening act.