Buzzfeed, Boys, Black Magic

dad material

"He's got a house." Abby slid onto the couch beside me. "And I am going to be in debt until I'm dead."

"An actual house?" I salivated. "With enough space to raise babies?"

"First, why," Abby crinkled her nose and I remembered that most twenty-something's did not share my urge to procreate. "And it's got a pool. A shit above-ground one, which may or may not have mildew on the filter, but it is technically a pool."

"HOW?" I pulled up Instagram on my phone. "How can he afford a pool house?"

"Uh," Abby shrugged. "He's thirty?"

"YOU COULD DATE A MAN WHO OWNS A HOUSE?" I was giddy at the idea. "THIS IS AWESOME. HE PROBABLY HAS FRIENDS WHO ALSO OWN HOUSES."

"Settle," Abby held up both of her hands. "He didn't buy it, he inherited it-"

I typed the name "Michael Gottler" in the search bar. The first profile picture I saw belonged to a straight-smiled, green-eyed man of about thirty. I examined his most recent post. A shot of him and two towheaded toddlers in tow, walking along the rocky shore of a muddy lake. The caption:

my two favorite buddies. #unclemike

I loved it so much, I was going to throw up.

"-I'm nothing but the weird baby cousin, right? So why would he go out of his way to say goodbye to me at the christening?" Abby had probably expected me to pay attention to the conversation. "I mean- he was actually engaged once. That's over my head, right?"

"HE'S DAD MATERIAL." I verbal-vomited. "LOOK AT THIS. LOOK." I shook my phone at her.

"Be careful, you asshat," Abby grabbed my wrist. "You could accidentally like something."

"You have to date him."

"I don't really have control over that," Abby didn't look amused.

"DAD MATERIAL." I snapped back.

"What even is dad material?"

Poor Abby. I knew what she was trying to do, but it was too late. I vividly imagined Abby and Mike's wedding. I threw rice everywhere. There were gardenias.

"Oh no," Abby's eyes bouncedover my face. "Stop it." She shook my shoulders. "Most dads are douchebags."

WRONG.

"Dads are great. They are in that sweet spot between squishy and strong," I argued, "they perpetually wear the fashion of whatever decade they were happiest, they make puns-"

"The Newton Center guy." Abby said.

I put my index fingers in my ears, even though I knew that wasn't going to help anything. Damn my stupid, exceptional hearing.

"They grill. They watch Star Trek. They love Bill Murray movies-"

"They sexually harass twenty-three-year-old astrophysicists when they are supposed to be spending quality time with their ten-year-old daughter-"

"THEY QUOTE EVERY LINE OF BACK TO THE FUTURE-"

"They quote George Orwell when security escorts them off the premise. They call you a skank in front a room full of children."

"That was just the one guy-"

"And he's a dad. Dads are guys." Abby crossed her arms, and I knew I had lost. "Guys can post pictures with kids or dogs or whatever, but you have no idea what kind of dad they're gonna be until they actually become one."