And The Award Goes To...

I just returned home from the Father of the Year awards in Oslo Norway, where I was nominated in the Father of Infant Twins category. The competition was fierce, and the ceremonies were wrought with scandal. Being quite jet lagged, I will do my best to recount the details s I remember them.

I was nominated for my first "Daddy" award, in part because of my parenting skills displayed when Jami went back to work and I subsequently began my turn of staying at home alone with the twins on Fridays for 8 hours and a 12 hour shift on Mondays. The honorable Father of the Year Academy, raved about my double bottle feeding technique, my multi-tasking abilities, and the overall energy and sense of sincerity I brought to the role of Fathering of Twins.

My fellow nominees were certainly worthy. Hans Gruber from Munich Germany is a father of twin boys who elected to be a stay-at-home dad, a noble achievement indeed. Joseph Umbasi of Capetown South Africa, is the father of new twin girls, as well as 4 other children all under the age of 8! Representing Sao Paulo Brazil, Mario Silva is a single father of twin girls doing the work of mom and dad, way to go Mario!

I felt good about my chances of bringing home the hardware, following an interview session with the "F.o.t.Y" advisory panel. I also felt like I had strong showings in the swim suit and talent portions of the competition. My confidence was running high as I took my seat at the closing ceremonies, somehow I just new that I would be walking around at the post ceremony gala holding a shiny new "Daddy"...and of course pictures of my kids.

My excitement began to grow as my category drew closer, I walked through my acceptance speech in my head. "Wow, I didn't think that I would win...It's an honor just to be nominated. I want to thank my beautiful wife Jami, you're my best friend and an amazing mother. To my fellow nominees I share this award with you. I want to thank my agent Ari, you are the hardest working man in the business. Thank you to the Father of the Year Awards Academy for this achievement and all they do to celebrate Fatherhood. Finally, I want to thank my kids, you are the reason I do what I do, I love you with all of my heart...now go to bed (fake a little laugh here and pause for audience reaction)"

Just before Denzel Washington was set to take the stage and present the Father of Twins award, "F.o.t.Y" Chairman Saul Goldberg, walked to the podium for a surprise announcement. A murmur began to swell through the crowd, what could this possibly be about?

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is with a heavy heart that I am forced to announce that Father of Twins nominee Josh Cecil has been disqualified from the competition and stripped of any potential Father of the Year titles. The academy has learned from an inside source, of an incident that shows gross ignorance for even a new father, be it a father of twins or otherwise."

As panic began to rise up into my throat, I squirmed in my seat. Slowly every head in the auditorium began to turn my way, accusatory malice filled their glares. "What have you done?" they seemed to ask collectively. I stood up as the sweat began to trickle down my brow. I looked at Jami's confused face, so gorgeous was she in her Vera Wang gown. Confused though she was she stood with me and grabbed my hand, determined to "Stand by her Man". We stumbled towards the exit, I was mumbling something to the affect of, "this is outrageous, I have no idea what this is about!"

Instead of the beautiful orchestral piece that would have whisked me from the stage after the acceptance of my trophy, I shamefully fled the auditorium to a rising chorus of boos and hisses.

The plane ride from Oslo to Newark was a torturous trip that felt like an eternity. Silence filled the cabin as I sat despondently looking out the window and Jami thumbed through a Sky Mall catalog. Our silence was finally abated on the flight from Newark to Indianapolis.

"So...you want to tell me what that was all about?" Jami queried.
"I...I...I have no idea." I passively offered. "I thought for sure I'd won..."
"That's not what I mean. What were they talking about? Gross Ignorance?"
I hesitated. Unsure of what to do, I broke down and explained the circumstances that must have cost me the Father of the Year award.

"Ok, listen...and promise you won't be mad."
Jami crossed her arms, and prepared herself. Her lips were pursed together, and I thought I could see a small storm just beneath the surface of her forced calmness.
"I suppose there is no point in hiding this anymore. That first Monday that you went back to work, and I had the kids all by myself for 12...no, 13 hours. It was really hard, they were really fussy. It seemed like every time I turned around they needed something else, a bottle, a diaper change, or just to be held. I was trying to be a good father and husband... honest I was. I was doing laundry, I even ran the vacuum. I wanted you to come home to a quite and clean house after a long shift at the hospital. Well...I put the kids down for a nap around 1:30 or 2:00. They seemed to be sleeping soundly, and I had the urge to do some cooking...you know how I love to cook! Well I decided to make some Mac and cheese, I used whole grain pasta...cause I know how you like whole grain pasta. Anyways, I boiled the pasta, and made my own chipotle cheese sauce. I was putting it all together to bake off in the oven. When the kids began to wake up. I set the cheese's burner to warm, and went to check on the kids. Things just got hectic really quickly. The kids both wanted a bottle, and I still needed to bake the mac and cheese. So I was running from the living room to the kitchen; feed a baby, mix the mac and cheese, burp a baby, put the mac and cheese in the oven, feed the other baby, check on the mac and cheese, burp the baby, take the mac and cheese out. With both babbies fed I began to clean up the kitchen, and run a load of dishes through the washing machine. With the house quiet again I sat down to eat some of my Mac and cheese creation. I thought I smelled something funny in the house, but I figured between the baking and the dishwasher, my olfactory sense was playing tricks on me. Right before you got home,...and keep in mind I 'd had a long day and now I had a pretty bad headache..."
Jami was tired of my spn doctor storytelling antics,"Get on with it!" she yelled. Other passengers stared in her direction.
"Well, I was walking past the kitchen and I could smell that smell again. This time it had a familiar odor, but I couldn't quite place it. Then it hit me..."
"What?" Jami exclaimed.
"Well remeber how I said I put the cheese sauce on the stove top to warm...?"
"Yes?"
"well I may or may not have remembered to turn the stove off...and the house may or may not have been filling up with natural gas for several hours with me and the kids inside."
"What do you mean may or may not?"
"I mean I deffinitely forgot to turn the stove off."
"What! Josh do realize that you could have given the kids and yourself Carbon Monoxide poisning! Or worse yet blown the house up! What were you thinking? Hours? Hours, you left the gas on!"
"I know, I know." I broke down, "Believe me I was freaking out. I had a headache, and it must have been from the gas, so I wondered if the kids had any reaction to it. Then I thought maybe they weren't really sleepy but just high on Carbon monoxide. Then I started freaking out about all the long term damage I must have caused, and how they wouldn't get into a good college. And then I began running different scenarios through my mind, like what if I had lit a candle...Kaboom!
"Good Lord Josh! and to think you were up for Father of the Year?"
"I know, I know...I'm A Monster!!!!!!"

And that my friends is how I have chosen to tell you the reader about the first day Jami went back to work, and I nearly killed myself and the kids with a little help from our natural gas appliances. On the bright side, if that was my first day watching the kids by myself for 13 hours...I can't possibly have anywhere to go but up. I mean how much worse can it get than a near death experience. As for Father of the Year...well, there's always next year.