Dunphism

If you are not a fan of Modern Family then you probably don't have a pulse; therefore you are not reading this blog; therefore I do not need to impress upon you just how much Phil Dunphy epitomizes all that is and all that should be the modern progenitor/father/patriarch/procreator. Or should that be ".....just how much Phil Dunphy is the antithesis of.....". Whatever.

I am a Phil Dunphy kinda dad. I make lots of 'dad' jokes that are not really very funny. I act my kids age now matter how assertive my body is in reminding me that I am not my kids age. I think I dress cool? But, as I don't buy my own clothes, I can hardly take any credit for that. I gesture 'Wadsup' to my kid's friends when I recognise them out on the street, though they must not be particularly attentive as they never seem to recognise me?

If you too are a Phil Dunphy kinda dad, you will agree that certain situations are more likely to give rise to a Dunphism than others. Passing through airport security is such a situation.

BTW - A Dunphism is a new verb I have coined to describe the action of trying to be cool, hip and/or smooth and failing spectacularly. LOL

Typically, I arrive at the airport long before I am due. I usually have unusual items of baggage that attract the interest of the Check-In Customer Service Officers, Quarantine Officers, the sniffer dogs and the Federal Police. Venomous snake handling equipment tends to raise eyebrows and live native animals tend to send tails wagging (literally). So I anticipate the worst and hope for the best and with that attitude I believe that I carry more swagger through an airport departure terminal than Justin Derulo. I do it so often its just not a stress....I own it!

I was so saturated in swagger today that I did not even BOTHER to take off my new field boots when I went through security 'cause I knew I was packing kevlar toe caps! Boom!! Scan that with your little pulsating wand,,,,,errrr....thingy Mr/Mrs Security.

With two dozen of my hommies packin' up behind me like a herd of wildebeest fording a raging river (as I fumbled to extricate my laptop which was firmly wedged between my iPad and my Kindle and my copy of Australian Reptiles by Wilson and Swan {revised edition)) I sauntered through that scanning gate, boots and all, glowing with that smart-ass confidence security guards all love to hate. I saw them lookin' at my boots...watchin'....waitin...............

Immediately I felt that prickly sweat and the burning heat of embarrassment when the scanning gate lit up like a Christmas tree. The security guard just looked at my face, that was now as red as a male baboons butt in breeding season, and then looked down at my boots and shook her head with clear disdain. I sheepishly backed up, further compressing the herd that was corralled behind me, so I could feed my boots back through the x-ray machine.

And then it got worse.

"Excuse me Sir, did you not notice the signs about aerosol cans? Do you have one in your bag? Where in your bag is it Sir? This pocket? No? How about this pocket? No? Oh - in this main compartment that appears stuffed to capacity and ready to explode when I undo the zipper? Lets have a look, shall we Sir. My, my - Sir does have many many pairs of undies folded so neatly and packed so tightly that I best be careful or...........oooops! Sorry Sir. Its OK Sir. The floor is clean Sir. Let me just pop those right back in there. Thank you Sir, that will be all. Have a nice day Sir"

Yes it was a Dunphsim of epic proportions, but with child-like exuberance and the memory retention of a goldfish that moment in time will quickly be forgotten until the next time I get to thinking I am just a little bit cooler than I really am.