In the pantheon of dumbass, selfish dads, Christian Damon Derek Stoner just staggered his way to becoming a chief amongst this group. According to the Star Tribune, Stoner’s 5-year-old son was found wandering around the along the street in a St. Paul neighborhood at dusk. In fact, according to the lady that stopped to help him, the boy was crying so hard he could barely talk, which brought the woman herself to tears.
After a brief look about, the lady found Stoner passed out in his car, his shoes off and his feet propped up on the dashboard. In the backseat, the boy’s 1-year-old sister was crying her lungs out.
After the police were able to calm the boy down, they learned that Stoner, 40, had picked both kids up from daycare and then proceeded to drive all over making random stops here and there. Eventually, Stoner’s son started asking for him and his sister to be dropped off at their mother’s because they were hungry and scared.
Stoner, however, ignored his son’s pleas and his now crying baby daughter, eventually finding his way to a residential street where, several hours later, he was discovered by the woman who came to his son’s aid.
This big f*#king dumbass, obviously was drunk out of his skull–like .289% blood-alcohol drunk—like 3 times the legal driving limit drunk! In fact, the police could only give him the breathalyzer, because they were afraid he’d injure himself attempting the field sobriety test.
The brother and sister were taken into custody and kept safe in the backseat of a patrol car until their mother arrived to take them home. And, what happened to daddy dipsh*t? He’s being charged with 3rd degree driving while impaired and a 2nd degree of refusing to submit to a chemical test. That’s it. What? No child endangerment? Nothing for the children at all?
I know idiots like this exist, but still! I just can’t fathom the thought process that leads a guy to believe it’s okay act this way. Yeah, yeah, psycho-babble, blah, blah, blah—whatever. I’ll spare everyone the big rant, except to say there’s no excuse. Period.
The part that really gets me, though, is the image of a little boy, lost, scared and sobbing in the dark winter of January. And in between convulsing gasps for air, his screaming baby sister can be heard in the distance, while the person who’s supposed to be their biggest protector snores through his drunken stupor. I hope somebody nut-punches the hell out of that guy.
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Ron Mattocks is a father of five (3 sons, 2 stepdaughters) and author of the book, Sugar Milk: What One Dad Drinks When He Can’t Afford Vodka. He blogs at Clark Kent’s Lunchbox, and lives in Houston with his wife, Ashley, who eternally mocks his fervor for Coldplay.