Some people make parenting look easy. They wear it well, soothing and diffusing with grace, patience and minimal fuss. To those of us contemplating father or motherhood, these people are mentors. We all want to be them.

Others, however, make parenthood look positively undesireable. It’s those unfortunate folks you watch you for a moment and think, Woah. What a mess. This is the camp I belonged to today.

Evan and I ventured out on a Reel Babies date, where they open a movie theatre in the middle of the day for moms and dads with babies in tow. The lights are on, and you’re free to do as you please – walk around, jiggle, bounce and play to the cacophony of several dozen babies yelling, giggling, crying and feeding all at the same time. If you’re lucky, you might get to actually watch the movie as well.

It was fate, you see. Before the movie started, the mother in front of me asked, “How has he been for you?”

“Great,” I said. “He’s been really calm. He’s a pretty happy kid.”

On cue, Evan shot her his very best ear-to-ear grin, stuck out his tongue and said “Owwwaa!” It doesn’t get any more adorable than a happy baby performing on cue, especially post-boast.

We left the theatre not even halfway through the movie, utterly defeated.

He went from fidgety to bored to uncomfortable to pissed off to turning himself inside out. Insert a poop-a-lanche in the middle, too. The kind that ends up everywhere.

We got outside and heaved our circus act into the truck, both of us sweaty, exhausted and grateful to be away from explosions and bad one-liners. He sighed, smiled and goo-ed softly from his carseat as if to say, Thanks mom. I feel better now.

I can’t resist saying it: it was a shitty movie anyway.