Sometimes I wish I were a deadbeat dad. I’d be accountable only for me and my wants and needs. Sometimes I wish I were more selfish and kept my money in a savings account or just spent it on things I want, like trendy clothes and sneakers or after-work happy hours or expensive dinners or bottles at all night parties on weekends. I would sleep late on Sundays and never get up to cook breakfast, cause I don’t like bacon and eggs anyway. I wish I didn’t have to rush home after work to mundane, routine, often frustrated evenings, checking homework and disciplining a third grader who’s constantly in trouble at school. I would pay child support only when I wanted to or could, cause that wouldn’t be my priority. I wish I didn’t have that extra expense for health coverage. Instead, I would use that money to travel the way I used to. I wish I’d have some sense of spontaneity, so when a friend calls me to hang out, I could say “I’ll be right over” and simple gatherings or even dating wouldn’t become long-planned affairs at the mercy of a baby sitter’s availability. Sometimes I wish I wouldn’t have a little body dependent on me for his very survival. Life would be much easier.

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