Soldier Dad: A Humorous Guide for New Fathers in the Military

Making the Transition from Lean, Mean, Fighting Machine to Glad Dad Wearing Plaid

Congratulations, Soldier, you're about to become a new Dad! As a Military man, you may feel a bit awkward in your upcoming role as a born-again father.  At first you may feel queasy and out of sorts, somewhat like sitting in the bleachers next to those other guys during an Army/Navy game. Do not panic, Soldier Dad, there is hope! The following guidelines have been devised to simplify your transition from Lean, Mean, Fighting Machine to Glad Dad Wearing Plaid. Read them. Know them. Live them! (They cost your government untold funds in research, so pay attention!)

A is for Army Food. Also known as S.O.S. or "What IS this slop?" You once ate it with gusto, and you will again. After the baby is born, you and your wife will average a half an hour's sleep each night. You will be too tired to find the kitchen, much less create something edible within it. Know the route to the nearest vending machine and load up on carbohydrate-filled crap. You're gonna need it.

B is for Bomb Diffusion. Nothing breaks beads of sweat on a Soldier faster than a ticking bomb. As a soon-to-be, brand new Military Father, be aware that a slight frown on your infant's face becomes deafening screams of rage in 2.6 seconds flat. Your Mission, Soldier Dad, is to discover what this uncooperative, non-communicative mini-civilian wants, and to provide it within the allotted time.

C is for Chemical Warfare. Not a subject to be taken lightly, but very much a part of new parenthood. The first time your newborn fills his diaper with thermonuclear waste, you'll thank God and Uncle Sam for the training which provides you with an ability to cope. Your directive: Buy wipey dipes in bulk.

D is for Discharge. Remember Soldier, were it not for your honorable discharge, you would not be facing parenthood. Keep your weapon under control at all times.

E is for Elbows Only Belly-Crawl. Good for entering enemy territory under tripwires, or recon in the perimeter of a not-quite-sleeping infant. Unless your objective is a horrific, abandoned, "How COULD you?" wail, every good Military Dad learns to maintain zero visibility at bedtime.