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“It looks pretty bad, guys.”
“Yeah, this isn’t good at all. I think we should call an ambulance ASAP.”
“You sure? Maybe let’s just patch him up, I think it’ll be fine.”
“Nah, I vote ambulance. This looks serious.”
Seven Hours Earlier
“Grant, that’s too shallow for a moat, this majestic beauty will be overrun by high tide if you don’t make it deeper. Cason, I need more towers on that side, I’ve been telling you for thirty minutes that we need more reinforcement over there. And Terra, if you don’t stop eating sand, I’m sending you back over to your parents. Come on, guys, we’re making magic happen over here.”
Frank was dictating orders to his army of preschoolers as they worked on his master-planned sandcastle. Their parents and friends were watching from covered chairs roughly fifteen feet away.
He’d been used to Frank’s eccentricity from the day he named him Grant’s godfather, but he felt like it was his duty to apologize for his large adult son to the people who weren’t quite as accustomed to his antics.
“Don’t worry, he’s great with the kids and they love him, he just gets really into imagination play sometimes,” he lied to Terra’s parents, Tim and Tina. They, and Terra’s twin four-year-old brother Tommy, had been invited on the group’s Memorial Day Weekend beach trip by Drew and his wife Karen. Both were drinking a Kona Longboard Lager and staring at the sand castle construction.
Tina cracked a half-smile and responded, “Oh, yes he seems like a lot of fun. Thanks again for bringing us along guys, the kids have had so much fun.”
“The more the merrier!” Mark slurred from his uncovered chair, smelling like tequila and looking like a lobster.
He leaned back and smiled, thinking about how miserable Mark would be wearing a suit to work all next week.
Should’ve put on sunscreen and found his way under an umbrella for more than five minutes. I wonder when Grant is going to get sick of Frank.
The tradition of an MDW trip to Port Aransas, Texas that they’d started during their early post-grad years was still going strong through marriages and children. The group this weekend rented two condos a couple blocks from the beach and next-door to each other. One for the families with kids (He and Grant, Drew & Karen, and Tim & Tina) and one for the childless couple & single dudes (Leo & Sarah, along with Frank and Mark).
Grant then walked up to the group. “Daddy, can we go swim in the ocean some more?”
Frank noticed he’d lost an employee. “Grant! Come on champ we’ve got at least thirty more minutes of work. Best sandcastle of all-time, remember?!?”
Grant looked at him. “No thanks, Uncle Frank. Can we go swim Dad?”
“Sure, Grant, let’s go.”
Cason headed over to his parents, Karen and Drew, to do some digging in the sand with his two siblings. Terra noticed she was the only source of unpaid labor at the castle, so she too ventured over to her parents and informed them that she’d like to swim as well.
Frank threw a plastic shovel into the castle in disgust, then sat down next to Mark and cracked a beer.
The trip surprisingly had few hiccups, even with Mark & Frank engaging in a silent competition for who can drink the most without one of the children asking their parents what’s wrong with them. Everyone except Leo and Sarah had arrived Thursday night, and by Sunday evening it’d been smooth sailing.
After two consecutive nights out to eat with six total kids, the group decided to spend their final evening grilling out at the kid-friendly condo (“Fort Offspring” as Mark had coined it). Drew had taken the reigns of stereotypical grill dad and had some steaks marinating next to the grill.
Grant watched as his father made some guac for the group, and Frank, Mark, & Leo all prepped veggies for Drew to grill. The ladies (and Tim) drank some well-deserved wine and watched the kids swim in the backyard pool.
He finished his guac (avocado, red onion, fresh lime juice, garlic powder, salt, pepper) and then walked Grant down to the pool with the fresh guac and some chips. He’d wanted to help his father, and help he did by smashing the absolute hell out of the avocados.
Grant floated around in the pool, doggie paddling with his floatie vest riding up to his chin as his father opened a beer and fielded some questions from the women around the pool, as it was his first time separated from his friends the entire trip.
“When’s the last time you went on a date?”
“Have you tried Hinge? If not, why don’t you try Hinge?”
“Aren’t you getting lonely? I still think you’d really like my friend, Leslie. Besides the whole Trump vote thing.”
All he could really mutter were something in the vein of, “Uh, kinda, maybe, yeah, somewhat,” before Drew leaned over the porch and yelled down, “The grillmaster has finished, come on over to Flavortown!”
Karen scoffed “Sometimes I feel like I need two parental controls; one to stop the kids from finding HBO and one to stop Drew from finding Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.”
Sitting around the pushed together picnic tables, the group enjoyed their last night. Drew and Karen’s kids cleaned their plates like vacuums while Grant licked one piece of steak and declared, “This steak is too spicy for me” before filling up on chips and guac.
His father shrugged and then looked down to the end of the table at Mark and Frank and said, “Hey guys, you know you can take that wine home with you right, you don’t have to finish it here?”
Frank burped and said, “Yeah but it’d be more fun if we finished.”
Shaking his head at Frank, he leaned over to Leo next to him and whispered, “Bet at least one of them isn’t ready for that 11 a.m. checkout time tomorrow.”
Post-dinner the group started to wind down both the night and the trip. The younger children were ushered off to bed, while a well over-the-legal-limit Frank & Mark entertained Grant and Cason while the rest of the adults tidied the kitchen.
As he cleaned out the bowl that formerly contained his freshly made guac, he leaned his head out the door to the porch where the children and the drunk adult children were playing and said, “Hey you guys be careful out there.” He felt like a corny ass dad, but it needed to be said.
“We will play nice, Dad!” Grant said.
“You’re not the one I’m worried about bud,” catching Mark’s glazed eyes.
Mark hit him with a misshapen grin and said, “Man you’ve got the best babysitters ever, you should be paying us for thi-”
It was at that moment that he’d drunkenly stumbled backward, unaware that Grant was in close proximity to him. Mark constantly bragged about his 6′ 4″ frame, but it also left him at a perfect height to be tripped by a standing toddler.
To Mark’s credit, he was aware enough to avoid knocking Grant over, but he lost his balance and Big Little Lies‘d himself down the five wooden stairs on the porch, landing hard on his arm.
Mark was sitting up at the foot of the stairs holding his possibly broken arm and two definitely dislocated fingers.
“It looks pretty bad, guys.”
“Yeah this isn’t good at all. I think we should call an ambulance ASAP.”
“You sure? Maybe let’s just patch him up, I think it’ll be fine.”
“Nah, I vote ambulance. This looks serious.”
Mark took a sip of the beer that was brought to him and said, “I don’t think my arm is broken, but I think I’m gonna Uber to the med clinic.”
Tim said what might’ve been his first full sentence of the trip. “I’ll drive you man, no worries. Drew can you move your car, you’ve got me blocked in.”
Well, sucks for Mark, but he’s had so much white wine I doubt he felt anything on that fall anyways. At least it was a drunk idiot and not a kid who ended up with a broken bone.
As their car drove away, Grant summed it up perfectly.
“Uncle Mark is kinda dumb, Dad.” .
If you’re enjoying following “PostGrad Single Dad,” be sure to go listen to the latest episode of “The DadGum Podcast” live on Grandex Labs.
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Kyle Bandujo
The artist formerly known as Crash Davis. My kid doesn't think I'm funny.
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Grant with the truth bomb at the end. That kids going places
One of the best things about kids, they call them like they see them.
Having serious concern I’ll be mark or frank when my friends have kids.
I’m already there. I used to babysit my nephew in philly during my last 2 summers of college. I would just strap the little man to my chest in a baby Bjorne and go about my normal business. All of that was well and good until my sister and brother-in-law took my folks on a brewery tour near their house and saw a picture on the wall of me double fisting while a certain someone was strapped to my chest having the time of his life.
You can either wear the baby or chase it. Good choice.
Excellent guac recipe, make sure to grab some lime flavored Tostitos next time along with it
Red Hot Blues, fam.
Will check these out, been looking for a good hot chip brand
Throw a jalapeño in there for me
Guys gotta try cilantro in there too
Glad someone pointed it out, basically the archetype for guacamole imo. Sometimes i fuck around and throw some hot red pepper in there or some tomatoes
Just 1 diced Carolina Reaper from the garden
Casual
Guac without cilantro is blasphemous
Out of the mouths of babes…