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The 7 Deadly Sins of Fatherhood

You know what I did the other day? Marched into my library, dusted off Dante’s Divine Comedy and gave it a quick spin. Okay. No I didn’t. I don’t even have a library. Plus, the only Dante whose words I’ve ever read is former University of Tennessee football standout Donte Stallworth. And he spells his name with an “o,” so that doesn’t even count. Not that it’d count if he spelled it with an “a” because I doubt Donte Stallworth ever broke down the seven deadly sins like Dante…Dante did. (Dante’s last name? Anyone?)

Anyway, you know about the seven deadly sins, right? PEG LAWS? Pride, Envy, Gluttony, Lust, Avarice, Wrath and Sloth. Forget for a moment that I’m not entirely sure what “avarice” means and instead consider the following: there are seven deadly sins of fatherhood, too. That’s right. Being a dad carries its own PEG LAWS which you should try your best to avoid. You do know about them, right? Well, just in case, here they are, starting with P:


  • Penny loafers 1 of 7
    Penny loafers
    Look, I get it. You have to dress up every now and then, be it for work or church or, perhaps just to convince folks you're the hard-working, church-going type. Hence the penny loafers. But you don't want to wear them too often for two primary reasons. First and foremost, it's hard to play with your kids in a pair of penny loafers, and second, they're believed to be gateway drug to lobster-accented capris pants like the ones pictured above.
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  • Egregious fashion statements 2 of 7
    Egregious fashion statements
    The good news is that you're comfortable in your own skin. The bad news? You look like a homeless man. On acid. So, well played, Dad. Your Hawaii Five-0 / tie-dye combo just earned your child two weeks of ribbing, presumably from kids whose dads aren't trying to look like Don Ho at a rave.
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  • Gut 3 of 7
    Gut
    Fellas, as man of the house, you have an image to maintain, a virile one at that. So if you've got a tool shed rising from the manscape beneath your chest, perhaps even one which prohibits your, um, groundhog from ever seeing his shadow, it might be time for a toe touch or two. I'm not saying you have to go all Billy Badass on me, but I am suggesting you look fit enough to withstand a pushup without falling into cardiac arrest.
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  • Little Lord Fauntleroy 4 of 7
    Little Lord Fauntleroy
    Hey, Congratulations! A baby boy, now what? I'll tell you what. A little something that's been going on since the beginning of time. Your wife will try to emasculate your little boy by dressing him up like Little Lord Fauntleroy, parading him about in any number of questionable outfits, each featuring preposterous smocking, form-fitting tights and shoes with buckles on them. If you don't ever say anything, this stage can and will carry on well beyond toddlerhood. You CANNOT let this happen. Put your foot down, buy a NASCAR onesie and get on with it.
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  • AWOL 5 of 7
    AWOL
    By now, you realize that my list of fatherhood PEG LAWS is (supposed to be) a funny one. But this next one's no joke: the deadliest sin of fatherhood is bailing out on your child and going AWOL. And no one has ever articulated why more beautifully than my friend Serge Bielanko. You have to try to be the very best dad you can possibly be for each and every one of your children, period. Regardless of your circumstances. Nothing else is acceptable.
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  • Wrapping your hair around the top of your head like a Cinnabon 6 of 7
    Wrapping your hair around the top of your head like a Cinnabon
    That's right. No comb overs, banjo boy. It's like my dad once told me: Son, don't ever trust a man with a comb over. Before he's even uttered a single word, he's already trying to deceive you. Losing hair? Sorry to hear about it. But instead of going with some God-awful swoop, why not show your kids that you're man enough to play the cards you were dealt by cutting it high and tight and marching right along?
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  • Singing 7 of 7
    Singing
    Nothing will embarrass your kids more than you busting out in song. I speak from experience, as I have a bad habit of singing whatever it is I'm doing to the tune of whatever song happens to pop into my head. So Kiss' Lick It Up? Sippy cup. Sippy cup. Whoa, oh, oh. The lid's on tight, now. Lady Gaga's Paparazzi? Listen to your dad, it's time for you to use the potty. I'm the potty Nazi. #ItWasJustAlrightForMeDog #NiceUpperRegisterThough
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