Really Lame Excuse

“Sorry, I had to give Robby a ride to practice.”

How many times did I hear that line, or some variation of it, when Beagle Man would be running late for a doctor’s appointment or a dinner with friends?  And when he really screwed up, he’d play the sympathy card.  “Had to take Robby down to Greenwich for physical therapy.  Two hours they kept the poor kid!  And then the traffic back up 95 . . .”  You see what’s going on here, don’t you?  We’re supposed to feel really bad for Robby, and pat B-Man on the back for being a good dad, instead of getting mad at him for showing up a half hour late.

But then Robby went away to college — and with him went the B-Man’s excuse.  Okay, next man up.  And who would that be?  You guessed it.  Now, when a telemarketer calls, it’s “Sorry, gotta bring my dog to the vet.”  Boring party?  “Oh, it’s already 10 o’clock?  Really have to get home and give Ricky his pills!”  And again, when he totally blows it, it’s the sympathy card:  “Sorry, my dog had a seizure.  I had to drive him over to the animal hospital in Norwalk . . .”

Here’s the way I see it:  When I poop in Matt’s room, my favorite indoor spot, I don’t try to blame it on my teddy bear.  I take it like a man.  My advice to B-Man?  Don’t use your kid, or your dog, as an excuse.  Have a little dignity.  Just say, “My bad,” and move on.

The Roof Rack Report (#roofrackreport on Twitter, for those who follow me already on @BeagleManHank) appears on Mondays, usually.  Actually, whenever Beagle Man decides to give me some space . . .