10 Ways Parenting Prepares Me for the Zombie Apocalypse
This is a longer card with supporting text below as a natural lead-in to additional content. This content is a little bit longer.
Some of my friends are concerned about the pending zombie apocalypse. I've noticed that these are mostly my childless friends. They might want to take note of the ways that parenting has prepared me for the rise of the undead, because I'm going to have advantages they don't when it comes to the end.
- Eluding Pursuit. I have experience sprinting into a room under heavy chase and getting the door closed and locked before the pursuers catch me. Will it be so different when I flee into a locked room to sharpen my zombie killing spears as opposed to simply changing my clothes all by myself? Just as my children figure out that Daddy is downstairs and can help them too, the zombies will head off in search of easier victims.
- Muscle Mass. When your one year old weighs nearly a third what you do, lugging that kid everywhere gives you muscle tone. Add to that a second baby, an overstocked diaper bag, and two ton strollers and carseats, and you don’t need to work out. When the zombies come I’ve got the strength to swing my survival pack to my back with ease as I throw my AK-47 to one shoulder while fending off the undead with my machete. I won’t even break a sweat.
- Olfactory tolerance. When we’re running from the zombies no one will be showering, changing, or applying deodorant. I have sons.
- Fearlessness. Seeing hands reaching for me under the bathroom door doesn’t freak me out.
- Endurance. When we’ve used up the gas in all the cars abandoned along roadsides by those fleeing the zombies, we’ll have to hoof it to keep ahead. Years of walking the floors at night, walking the baby around in the back of church or lecture halls to keep him quiet, walking to the playground and back every day, and chasing toddlers in circles, will have prepared me for my post-apocalyptic life on foot.
- Indiscriminate Taste. As a parent I’ll eat anything, from leftovers on the highchair tray to yogurt spoon fed from a droolly toddler who just stuck his hand in it. So, when I find myself hunched down in an abandoned house finding only a can of cat food for sustenance I’ll lick that thing clean with relish.
- Wakefulness. When the zombies are chasing me throughout the night, I’ll just think back to going to bed after the baby gives in to sleep around midnight, nights spent walking the floors, giving bottles, chasing away monsters, locating favorite toys, cleaning up vomit, and rising with the toddler at 5:30, and be able to keep going without hesitation, as my non-parent comrades drop off from exhaustion only to wake up to find themselves members of the undead.
- Grossology. Kids are gross. Zombies are gross. You get the idea.
- Preparation. If we get away from the zombies with just the diaper bag, we’ll be doing pretty well. I mean, we should be able to keep the family clothed, fed and supplied with colorful band aids for at least five days. Add to that the things we find hidden under seats in the car and we’ll be set for weeks.
- Ability to take a beating. Let’s face it, when the zombies come things aren’t going to be easy. We need to be able to take a hit and keep moving. Today my one year old hit me up side the head with a boat. I saw it as his way of getting me ready for what’s to come.