Death of Batman

Dear NinjaSon,

OK. One day, when I am dead, you will be reading this and I will do a little dance from beyond the grave when you read once and for all in the undeniable truth of this repository of all NinjaDad knowledge the following....

THERE IS NO REAL BATMAN

This sentence should ring familiar a distant childhood memory of the years and years in which I told you day after day after day that THERE IS NO REAL BATMAN.

*sigh*

Yeah you love Batman. You love Batman so much that every day you insist that we go find him.

And then you want him to fight me.

“Daddy find Batman! Daddy Fight! Batman Fight!”

There

is

no

Batman.

Well there was Batman Rodriguez from Loisaida but that's another story altogether.

Every day, every night. Before naps and after waking from them. While on the potty, while brushing teeth. While falling fifty stories riding on my back, while throwing toy shuriken from your baby fanny pack. Day in, day out. Night out, night in. You never waiver....you never fail.....you never give up.....

“Daddy find Batman! Daddy, Batman, FIGHT!”

If our ticket puncher ever spit out the name Batman on our to-kill list then believe me son, I would find him and fight him and....c'mon let's get real here....I would take that dude out. I don't care how old I am. But unfortunately (for the both of us) he is not real. He's not like Santa.

Hmmm...wait a sec. If Batman and I were to fight....who do you want to win???

Hmmm...I didn't think about that one. A child's heart is fickle. I hope you pick me over Batman.

Remember, Batman doesn't buy you hot dogs at Gray's. Daddy buys you Gray's.

(bribery works on 3 year olds)

You Deserve Better

Dear NinjaSon,

Sorry little man. I am really sorry.

I blame you really.

As you know this place is a repository for all of my NinjaDad knowledge to be saved and deposited for your future reference when I am dead which I thought was going to be really soon since in my old age of 30something human years I am sure something is going to kill me and leave you orphaned.

Such things could be like maybe a pack of 1000 rogue ninjas. 100,000 Brooklyn mystics. The reservation system at Momofuku Ko. Godzilla if he caught me right after I ate and had a leg cramp.

Well I am going to be honest with you. I have not updated my repository of Ninja Knowledge aka NinjaDad.com because

a) I bought one of these tiny little netbook thingys with a tiny keyboard and even Ninjas can't type on these damned little machines from hell.

and

b) You make me feel like I will live forever.

It's true. These last few years with you have filled my existence with life. I see your mother in your smile. And it fills me with everything she was supposed to be and gives me such power that I know that I can accomplish anything other than that Ko reservation thing I mentioned earlier.

There is much that I have missed. Many lessons that I should have shared. But take this lesson to heart. You make me lazy. You are the answer to everything for me. I seek little. Well actually often I have to seek you out. Because you hide. Really really well you hide. Listen to me: No. Hide damn well: Yes. We still need to work on that one.

My happiness is no excuse for a lack of preparation and happiness alone cannot shield me from poison darts, giant monsters, leg cramps, or fans of David Chang.

The best time to dig a grave is in the warmth of summer listening to the laughter of friends.

Let me warm my hands.