I had originally planned to tell you all about how much I loved Spider-Man. How cool I thought it was and the list of superheroes I had come up with that were destined to fail (e.g. Naked Man).

Then I saw something. Something . . . deplorable.

The wife and I took the drooler to see the doctor today. She’s officially six months old (wow, how time flies . . . more on that another time). So, the doctor looks her over, declares her a genius and bows to her plan for world domination. Then, as if the disgrace her desire for dominance, they pinned her down to inject her full of some sort of vaccination. Right . . . Government tracking serums is more like it.

There were for shots total. The first two, little Gertrude was very gracious. She took the stinging pain like a trooper. Her little lip pouted a bit, but she was okay. The third irritated her. She looked at the nurse and gave her a warning. NEVER do that again. But the nurse did and Gertrude let out a plaintive wail that was heard for blocks around. Children all over the world stopped, bowed their heads and thought silently about the poor child that had just been vaccinated.

Gertrude gave that nurse a look. A dirty look. A look that said, “I never forget a face. Woman, when I can walk and have a concept of revenge, you are first.”

But that is beside the point.

As I was loading the baby into the car to deliver her to the sitter, I noticed there were two small children in the car next to me. No parent. I had seen them when I pulled in. There was a dad of some sort in the front with them, but he was gone.

Well, I thought, maybe he’s under the car checking for leaks. Nope. Perhaps he’s hiding in the back, playing a game. Nope. Perhaps his body was flung into this ditch and is waiting to be discovered by authorities. Nope.

No, this jerk left his two kids in the car. Alone. Looked to be about three and one. The best part was the one-year-old was not restrained in any way. He roamed about the car, trying to discover what sort of horrible act he could perform. The other kid sat there, blandly allowing himself to be neglected. I could see the pent up rage building itself up deep within him. He may not figure out how to retaliate today. Or even this decade, but you could tell by the look on his face that he would exact his revenge on his errant, moronic dad someday . . . when he least expected it.

My wife stayed to make sure the kids were okay. Eventually the dad came out and retrieved his kids. Wife didn’t say anything to the guy, but gave him a dirty look.

This guy is seriously missing two of the seven senses (Horse and Common). What kind of jerk leaves two young children in a car on a parking lot? Would it have taken so much to get the two kids out and take them in with him? Are they not important enough to him? How could anyone let their children out of their site for that long? For crying out loud, I stop the car to make sure my kid is breathing properly. I would never consider leaving her alone for a second, much less keeping her in a car alone while I go about my business.

This prick makes us all look bad.

It’s bad enough that fathers have a reputation based upon moronic stereotypes from television sit-coms. We can never catch a break. I know this for a fact based on the way my daughter’s brownie moms have treated me. I am an outsider to them. A bumbling Neanderthal bastard who shouldn’t be caring for children because I am probably afraid of changing diapers. I am not worthy to share the brownie room with them because . . . well . . . I have a penis and that makes me incapable of proper child care. I should be relegated to cleaning gutters and charring flesh over an open flame.

Heck, open any parenting magazine and look for all the articles that deal with fatherhood. Exactly . . . none? And when a father is mentioned, it’s usually in reference to him putting on a diaper backwards or trying to feed the baby chili.

But that’s beside the point. I know I’m a good Dad. I know many good dads. There are many in my family alone. And yet, jerks like this guy are the ones who give us the stereotype of stupid, uncaring, incompetent nincompoops. We’re not all that way.

To quote the movie Parenthood, “You need a license to drive a car. You need a license to own a dog. But any butt-reaming asshole can be a dad.”

This is true. But, do not judge us based on the stereotype. Look around. There are plenty of us caring fathers around.

Also, look around again. If you see this guy, who was driving a powder blue Volvo station wagon, kick him. Hard. In the crotch.

Or you can wait another ten years when he picks up his son at the police station for dealing drugs. He’ll be the one moaning about how the media has corrupted his kid. He’ll be the one completely blind to the fact that parenting actually involves paying attention to your kids.