Well, my sore throat has plateaued, so far... maybe it's not strep. Maybe just a touch of the cancer. Miss O is still coughing, but she's not really phlegmish yet. Maybe the weekend's not totally sh--NO... I shan't jinx it. Cut. Cut.
I did notice that someone from New Jersey did a Google search at 9:17 tonight for "why dads are crabby," and they ended up here. Number one result for why dad's are crabby, I am. Who performed such a search? Was it a flustered spouse: "Oh why is the sweet man I once married so darn crabby now?!" Perhaps it was a crabby dad himself: "Fucking shitturds! I wonder if there are any more fuckers out there like me who might have the answer for why I'm such a dick?" Or maybe it was a child, cowering in a closet with a laptop: "Maybe if I find the answer online, daddy will let me out of here and then I can help Mommy fix him." Ooh, that's kinda depressing. Ah, I'm sure it's just a college student doing a research paper on Patriarchal Crabbytosity in the 21st century.
So, to answer their question -- why dads are crabby?
That's a toughie, but I've gotta go with playing tag.