Watching Netflix’s “Old Dads” reminded me why I should’ve had kids in high school

Comedian Bill Burr recently made his directorial debut in the Netflix film “Old Dads,” which he also co-wrote and in which he plays one of the main leads.

“Old Dads” tells the story of Jack Kelly (Burr), Connor Brody (Bobby Cannavale) and Mike Richard (Bokeem Woodbine), three friends who sell their company to a millennial, only to realize that they are out touch with current societal norms like gender identity, appropriate work place behavior and rentable electric scooters. 

Lucky for me, I understand those simple rules like making sure I use a person’s pronouns, but it’s the other stuff they went through in the film, that makes me critique my parenting decision to have a child only when I was fully maature. And I know it sounds wild and kind of dysfunctional, even for me, but maybe, just maybe I waited too long. 

My parents were really young when they had me and even younger when they gave birth to my older sister. As a result, we had to deal with the pain and traumas that come with growing up at the same time as your child – like eating the same snacks, fussing over who’s going to get to pick the movie – usually, mom because she was paying for it – and knowledge. As hip and cool as my young mother was, certain things only come with age and experience, like the ability to control emotions, recognize red flags in personal and romantic relationships, and patience. Knowing this, or actually experiencing this­­ – I told myself I would not be a teenage dad. And I was successful, even after having a couple of scares in high school. I am proud to say I made a plan and stuck to it. But did I get it right?

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my baby girl more than anything in the world, but if time machines existed, then I would’ve skipped the dramatic love story full of ups and downs that my wife and I share, our seven-year dance that led to matrimony, shift the universe so that we could be locked in in our early 20s, and will that beautiful baby girl into the world back in 2008. Because in 2008 I had a healthy hairline, I could run down a basketball court like I was shot out of a cannon, and if I twisted it to the side and held my breath, you could even see half of an ab muscle forming. Yes, I felt like a professional athlete in 2008 compared to how I feel now. Also, if my daughter was born 2008, then she would be 15 right now, which means I could take her to nightclubs, let her sit at the bar with me and maybe have a round or two. That’s a joke, but I’m sure a 15-year-old has to be less demanding than a toddler. 

My daughter was born one month before I turned 40 years old. And everything felt like it made sense. My marriage was stable and beautiful, and I found my passion as a writer; my wife and I purchased an affordable home in a gated community, had a few dollars in the savings account, scheduled some bills to be automatically debited via auto-pay, and even ate salad sometimes as a main course. We were the perfect parents until I realized that I did not know how old I was. I am an ancient 40.

Bobby Cannavale, Bokeem Woodbine and Bill Burr in “Old Dads” (Netflix)I’m not a young 40 – the kind of 40 that does hot yoga, trains for marathons, takes salsa dancing classes and eats sprouts. The kind of 40-year-old we hate. I’m an ancient 40 because I watch baseball, don’t know how to send emails on brand-new devices, my knees crack when I move, and I refer to FaceTime on iPhones as “that face video thing.” I don’t even know how to work TikTok. I’m so 40 that I remember when Joe Biden was young and spry, and I even kept my iPod until Apple forced me to retire it. The most significant indicator of me being ancient is that I recently told my nephew, “They made the best music back in my day, I don’t understand this new stuff.” So, essentially, I am a geezer. 

A geezer with a baby who acts more like an employer. My beautiful toddler has an extremely long list of demands that she cannot wait to put on me daily. They kind of go like, “Daddy go upstairs and get me something to drink,” and “Daddy sing this Disney song, but only your part,” and “Daddy ordered me a pizza,” and “Daddy carry me,” even when she hears my knees snapping and popping like microwave popcorn. The only thing saving me, is that my daughter is a “Mommy’s girl,” meaning that mom is always the first choice and I’m only called into action when mom is at work or needs a break. Sometimes I feel bad watching my daughter run my wife around, as I ice my knees and wait for my turn, but here we are.  

I love playing with my daughter, but she is so low to the ground. I love to carry her and don’t think she’s heavy but tell that to my shoulders and back, and I wish I had her stamina – the girl can run all day long and doesn’t run out of energy. Back in 2008, I could run all day long as well. I would have been beside her, chugging ice cream at 4 a.m., but now I’m slacking in the rear, screaming, “Please baby, wait for daddy.” I’m in bed by 10 p.m. now, even though my daughter is fighting for me to stay up past the magic hour, and she still has the same energy she had around 2 p.m. the same day. 

“You think she has too much energy because we give her too many organic vegetables, organic yogurts, and other organic snacks that we didn’t have growing up?” I asked my wife, “Because we had bedtimes.” 

“I would appreciate a bedtime now,” she laughs. 

These are the things that no one explains to us, so-called responsible, evolved parents. Even if we work out multiple days a week, our bodies aren’t equipped to deal with toddlers. Maybe 40-year-olds are not supposed to be playing games with three-year-old kids daily – it’s like entering the NBA as a rookie at age 45. You will get dusted and crossed over and slammed on the bench. This is happening to me every day. 

I am going to make it, just like the crew in “Old Dads.” I am a survivor and will be okay, but I have one message to those waiting to have kids: Don’t wait – act like it’s 1950 and have those kids while you are still young enough to chase them.