Daddy, I Don'T Like Chicken

I remember the first time my daughter said a whole sentence
That was a big deal because she had never made a whole thought by herself
She just said the little words
I was doing the dishes, and behind me
I just hear her, she just goes, "Daddy, I don't like chicken"
I dropped my plate, my wife and I cried and hugged
It's a big moment

A week later, I'm making dinner, and she goes, "Daddy, I don't like chicken"
"You're-, we're fucking having chicken, what are you talking about?"
"I don't like chicken" "I don't like you, okay? I don't like you
I don't like people that make me work and don't appreciate what I make for them
You don't like chicken? Make whatever the fuck you want then
Get out of your shitty little plastic chair and make your own dinner
Whatever it is you want so much"

"I don't like chicken," you'll like the chicken when I shove it up your ass
Because that's where it's going if you don't eat it, seriously
I will grind it up in the Cuisinart and then blow it up your ass with a straw
I got to feed her, she's got to eat

When your kid won't eat, you just go crazy
Because you have a physical need to feed them
It's an instinct, and when they're sitting there just looking at their food
You're like, "Just fucking eat it!"
"You'll die, you idiot, eat the food!"

"I don't like it" "It doesn't matter, put it in your face!"
"They have your footprint at the hospital
They know that I have you, I'm not allowed to let you die, you piece of shit! Eat it!"
"You have a social security number, you're on the grid, motherfucker! Eat!"
"If you're skinny, I go to jail! Do you understand?"

And I love my kids, and I'd die for them, but my life fucking stinks
It just does, age what it is when you're a parent, you know, it's all, all the pleasures are gone
You don't-, nobody fucks you ever again, that shit's just over
You don't, you can't sleep, you don't sleep, you don't eat
You don't eat meals, you just eat at the sink, fast, standing up
Some macaroni and cheese that she didn't fucking eat
And that's your dinner now, with people yelling, "Hurry up!" "I'm just trying to get"
You don't do anything fun, your single friends are like, "Did you see that movie?"
"No, I didn't see the fucking movie, okay?"

And you can't even enjoy being a parent because there's no, no pride in it, because we suck at it
Everybody sucks, we make huge mistakes and then you just go
"Whoops, permanent damage there, move on, I guess"
My five-year-old has all these twitches and weird fears
I'm like, "Good luck with that shit, honey, that's all my handiwork, sorry"

And it gets harder too, you think it's going to get easier?
Like when they're babies, you think that's the hard part, because you got to do everything
You got to feed them, you got to put their clothes on
You got to put them in the, in the car, you got to do everything
But you think it's going to get easier 'cause they're going to grow up and do all this shit for themselves
But they're not

They're going to grow up and be able to, but they fucking won't do it
So it's actually easier when they're babies, because when you want them to eat
You just take food and just shove it in their face
You got to put on a shoe, you just take a foot and shoe on it
Pull their arms through the sweater
Throw them in the car and kick the door closed

And then you get the-, parents live for the tiny vacations from their kids
The little tiny, like when you put your kids in the car, and you close their door
And that little walk around to your own door
It's like a carnival cruise, it's just the greatest, oh, oh, oh

And you just stand at your door like, "Okay, fuck, that was bad
Whoa, that shit was-, what did I say? Fuck, that was bad"
Okay, okay, okay everybody