I Shouldn't Be This Hurt

I was at H-E-B the other night with my wife when I saw a bunch of NFL gear on a clearance rack over in the corner. It wasn't a great deal, only 25% off, but among the merchandise they were clearing out were a bunch of kid-sized jerseys of Texans star J.J. Watt. I found one in my 5-year-old's size and talked my wife into buying it for him.

Now, a bit of background. I've been hopelessly enamored with professional football since a very early age, probably since six or seven years old or so. For some reason, though, not a single one of my kids likes football. And not because I pushed it on them too much and they rebelled against it or anything. If anything I didn't push it enough. I just enjoyed it alone, and every one of my kids sided with my wife in thinking that football sucked. I thought, when we had another late-arriving child that maybe I had another chance to win someone over to my side, but despite my best efforts, the 5-year-old isn't very interested in it either.

I think it's got much more to do with the fact that society at large is moving away from being sports-centered like it was in my youth. Now it's video games and superheroes instead. And my kids are all into those things just fine. Anyway...

I still try to get the 5-year-old interested in football here and there, and I thought getting a cheap J.J. Watt jersey might be another chance at doing that. In fact, a few years ago I happened upon a really nice Peyton Manning Colts jersey at a thrift store. It was for an age several years above the age my son was at, but I thought I could buy it (for the next-to-nothing that they were selling it for at the thrift store) and set it aside for when he grew into it. I put it in the closet and waited for its time to arrive.

Of course my 5-year-old never stays out of my closet (OR ANYTHING ELSE) for long. So, soon he came across it. And, even though he claims to not be interested in football, he insisted on wearing it right now. I let him wear it for a few minutes, but told him he had to save it for when he was old enough to fit it for real. So, with that in my history, you'd think it'd probably be okay to get him a J.J. Watt jersey in his size to wear right now, right?

Well, when we got home from the store, I told him that I'd bought him something. He seemed excited. I told him that he probably wouldn't like it that much, and not to get too excited. I think he ignored that suggestion, though, and went right ahead and got excited.

When I pulled it out of the bag and showed it to him, his reaction couldn't have been worse. He sighed heavily, his face fell, and, without saying anything at all, he turned and walked away.

It was not the reaction of a 5-year-old. It was more like the reaction of a teenager who had been constantly ignored and possibly abused by a drunk father. Then that father, now divorced and not living in the home with the child, hopelessly out of touch with his child's life, presents them with a gift that wouldn't fit and possibly represents everything the kid hates about his worthless disappointment of a dad.

I know the kid is just five, and I can't take anything he says or does seriously, but I couldn't help but be really, really hurt by this reaction. It was just so freaking harsh.

A while later, while unloading the rest of the groceries, I found my bedroom door locked, because my wife was in there having a talk with the kid. I don't know if he came to her crying and complaining, or if she saw the look on my face like I had been sucker-punched in the balls with a set of brass knuckles, but she was in there trying to convince him that it wasn't the worst thing in the world that I'd ever done to him, and maybe he should just say, "thanks Dad" and take the shirt and put it away and forget that I'd ever presented it to him in the first place while never wearing it one time at all. I don't know.

It was so strange, though. I was so very, very hurt by his reaction. Why? He's fucking five years old. He still believes in Santa Claus and doesn't even understand the most basic of mathematics like subtraction yet. Yet his reaction left me hurt and reeling for hours afterward. I didn't know what to do. I felt like going out, getting in my car, and driving fast and dangerously angry like I might have done as a young man, maybe blasting "Damage, Inc." by Metallica while doing so. Or maybe just getting in a fight so that somebody could punch me in the face for real instead of emotionally.

Of course, I didn't do any of that. Instead, I just sat on my computer all night long, working on meaningless minutiae like organizing my iTunes songs.

By morning, I was mostly over it. But I'm sure the ulcer in my stomach I formed overnight will help me remember the hurt forever. Being a parent is hard, I suppose.