Have you ever wondered, What exactly is Dad doing outside? He spends hours out there, but nothing seems to get done. Sure, he says he’s mowing the lawn, trimming hedges, taking care of business, whathaveyou, yet when you take a closer look, your surroundings look more Grey Gardens than the Garden of Eden. I have the answer. A suburban mother of three recently happened upon what scientists and physicists alike are hailing as the most significant discovery of our time. The mother, who prefers her identity remain anonymous, was, like most women, just trying to do it all when she found man’s hidden, secret universe—the Dad Dimension.
This is her story.
My husband had been out of town for over a week, and I usually leave the yard work to him due to my severe seasonal allergies, but I could no longer stomach my kids playing in what was starting to resemble a Vietnamese elephant grass field. I expected to have some difficulty; he stays in the yard all day and gets surprisingly little done. Often he can’t get the mower to crank, so I was quite surprised when I got it on the first try.
I thought it was beginner’s luck, but as it turns out, I mowed our 15-acre lawn in ten minutes without any trouble at all.
Confused yet motivated, I decided to try my hand at the shrubs. To my surprise, I crafted topiaries that rivaled that of Walt Disney World in 20 minutes!
Then, the woman hung her head in shame and let out a sigh. After discovering my husband had been lying to me all this time regarding the level of difficulty of these tasks, I must confess I did I let go of a few four-letter words, followed by an invigorated belch. It turns out; this must have been the secret universal code that unlocked the ultimate source of knowledge. I felt myself getting lightheaded and dizzy, so I shut my eyes, and when I opened them, I was in another dimension.
The chilling voice of the Twilight Zone’s Rod Serling affirmed my suspicion, and I knew my journey was just beginning.
It is a dimension as vast as space, full of passed gas, one-liners, and that’s what she said jokes. This is the dimension of entitled men, sports fanatics, selfish, lying douche canoes, and know-it-all pricks. It is an area we call the Bad Dad Dimension.
What Dads Do Outside – The Bad Dad Dimension
Fortunately, the woman recalled most of the events she witnessed.
It was full of Dads with beer guts like pot-bellied pigs on their riding lawnmowers. But instead of lawns, they were on this people-mover style sidewalk that ran back and forth from, and I know this sounds crazy, a Joe’s Crab Shack and a Hooters. It was similar to the ones at airports, but instead of transporting stressed and busy travelers, this was exclusively for Dad’s on John Deere’s. The Joe’s Crab Shack featured massive drive-in movie size screens broadcasting Old School and all of the Adam Sandler movies on a loop.
Of course, the Hooters did what Hooters does best; they showed the game and the consequences of poor yet often necessary life choices.
Anyway, the men were all still dressed like dads doing yard work; ridiculous hats, khaki cut-off shorts with frayed bottoms, ugly, pit-stained, crusty T-shirts, some (unfortunately) with no shirts at all, and crocs. Some were drinking, too. Not the hard stuff; the Dad stuff like cheap beer and Mike’s Hard Lemonade.
I must have been invisible because none of them noticed I was there. Then again, I am a bit of a mean-spirited woman, so I am used to being kind of invisible unless I’m screaming.
Anyway, the guys were preoccupied with spicy wings, beer, and Will Ferrell, and oddly, they all seemed to know each other. Almost like they were regulars. I know it sounds crazy, but I know I was in another place in time.
Because I am female, I noticed every detail of this strange dimension – including Area 52: The Official Excuse Office.
It was conveniently located between Joe’s Crab shack and Hooters, and there was a reception area where I saw a couple of the mowers parked, so I snooped around. Here’s where it gets super weird: area 52 had a designated excuse rehearsal space where the men could practice what they would say to their wives in the event they were ever asked any questions.
One poor guy, apparently a newlywed, screwed up, told the truth and set off all kinds of alarms.
Warning! Danger! Code Red. Code Red.
He’s still whipped!
Well, that triggered all sorts of shirtless lemmings to come rushing in – almost as if it were the Super bowl, and they sensed the commercials were over.
Keep in mind these were men who, trust me here, had no business running without their shirts on.
I feared for the newlywed, but the only danger coming his way was in the form of a thick binder full of Official Dad Dimension Excuses – also known as the only book these guys will read. I watched in horror as the DIC (Dad In Charge) explained to the newlywed how he must memorize everything in the notebook if he ever wanted to join the Dad Dimension again. The binder contained the acceptable excuse document- a list of plausible reasons men may disappear into the yard for hours yet get nothing done. Naturally, I managed to sneak a peek at it.
What Dads Do Outside Excuse List
The lawnmower wouldn’t crank, so I had to go find “my guy” and talk to him about it.
“My guy” lives an hour away.
I spotted an incredibly massive snakeskin, so I did some investigating & which led me to do more investigating because I must do my due diligence in protecting our family against what, I’m assuming, was a King Cobra.
Vicious wasp nests forced me to drive to the store to purchase spray to eradicate them before making any other outdoor moves. (Also known as the Bad Dad Dimension due diligence excuse.)
The mower ran out of gas, so I had to go to the gas station and buy beer.
I got stomach cramps from the pizza I bought at the gas station and had to take a time out (if you know what I mean), and it took me a while to get going again. (Also known as The Too Much Information excuse.)
The Switch It Up: As in, if your wife starts to question you, switch it up on her. Ask her if she thinks you’d be sweating outside for hours on end if you didn’t have to? This excuse came with statistics: Works 80% of the time. 90% if used with fake sweat method, which involves pouring a bucket of water over your head.
The Fake Sweat + Complain Combo: Pour bottled water on yourself before re-entering home, then groan about how hot it is outside.
The excuses were endless, and as I continued to hear them, I became enraged; that’s when I started to hear voices in the distance.
Not crazy voices, mind you, I’m not Joan of Arc, but voices a mother knows. The voices of my children.
The last thing I remember was getting dizzy, and the dimension faded to black. Their voices must have brought me back.
It turns out they were hungry, and since I’m the only one who can open a box and turn on the microwave in this house, I had to oblige them.
The mother has been interviewed hundreds of times. Researchers and quantum physicists alike remain perplexed at the vast amount of information she could retain after watching so many episodes of The Real Housewives of Orange County. Her husband, who coincidently has hired a service to mow the yard at their new, much larger, more well-appointed home (which may or may not have been purchased as a peace offering), has remained mum and maintains he has no idea what she is talking about.
Have you ever wondered what Dad is doing outside? What do you think is going on out there?