Before I was a dad, I went to sleep when I damn well pleased. Now, I’m lucky to make it through my favorite prime-time programming, and my son goes to sleep when he damn well pleases.

Before I was a dad, I could bump my knee, or stub my toe and have a cuss word or two. Now, I get a letter from his preschool about the vocabulary words that they don’t teach.

Before I was a dad, I was “only going to let him watch Sesame Street. You know the stuff I grew up on. Children’s programming these days suck.” Now, I catch myself singing songs from The Backyardigans and The Wiggles at work.

Before I was a dad, I answered to no one. Now, I must answer my son at least 50 times a day. “You watchin’ TV, Daddy?” “Yes Benjamin.” “You tying your shoes Daddy?” “Yes Benjamin.” “You poopin’ Daddy?” “Yes Benjamin, please get out of the bathroom and shut the door!”

Before I was a dad, I could quit my job on a lunch break because, well, just because. Screw ‘em. Now, I’d shovel human feces for 8 hours a day to make sure my kid has food to eat and a roof over his head.

Before I was a dad, a young, hot mom was nice to look at. Now, they still are, but when they catch me looking, I can pull the, “I have a little one myself.” and am no longer creepy.

Before I was a dad, I never traveled with a constantly running tape recorder that never thinks to repeat the “but I love her” part, just the “My wife’s a pain…” part.

Before I was a dad, I used to look at other children in public and think, “If I have a kid, they will never act like that.” Now that I have a child, he never acts like that. What? You thought I was going to say that he does? Sorry! He’ll never pull any of that, because I’d whoop his little tail in public, and he knows it.

Before I was a dad, I could urinate without an audience. Well, unless I was drunk at a party, in which case, whatever.

Before I was a dad, I watched Jackass the Movie and laughed at someone shoving a Matchbox car in their rectum. Now, I watch Jackass the Movie and it’s a painful reminder to never sit on my couch without looking. Again.

Before I was a dad, I tried to watch what I eat. Now, if my son doesn’t finish his food, he’s “wasting money”. And even though I’m trying to watch what I eat, we “paid 4 dollars for that meal, and somebody better eat it.”

Before I was a dad, smothering my wife with a pillow during sex was “kinky”, not a necessity because, “if you wake him up, I swear…”.

Before I was a dad, I was one of the toughest guys on the planet. Now, if my son runs up to me for a hug, and I’m not looking, that head butt below the belt could put me on the ground for a solid two minutes.

Before I was a dad, I had everything figured out. Granted it was only wake up, work if you wanna, shower if you wanna, watch TV, eat, go to the bathroom, get drunk, get laid if you can, pass out and do it all over again tomorrow. But I had it figured out.

Before I was a dad, I never felt so unconditionally loved by anyone.

Before I was a dad, I never felt so needed by anyone.

Before I was a dad, I never felt like somebody’s superhero.

Before I was a dad, what in the hell was I doing with my life? Being a dad rocks! Why didn’t I knock somebody up sooner?