When my boys were about a year old, we strolled down to our neighborhood bank. Two tellers greeted us and asked if I was playing Mr. Mom. When I explained I was a stay-at-home dad, I was surprised to see a look akin to abject horror, as if I had said, "Hi, I'm a swamp monster, here to deposit money before I devour these children."

That was my first inclination that maybe fatherhood was a tad underappreciated.

Ben George had a similar moment. A few months after his daughter was born, he decided to find the perfect book about being a dad. At the Amazon.com Web site, he searched for books on "fatherhood." Seconds later, the bookseller's search engine had a question for George.

"Did you mean 'motherhood'?"

Even computers have a sense of humor nowadays.

George took the question as a challenge, to create a guide for fathers beyond the "what to do when Mom's away" genre. He collected essays from a wide cross-section of literary styles and father types, including his UNC-Wilmington colleague and Chapel Hill favorite son Clyde Edgerton. This compilation, "The Book of Dads," illuminates the joys and fears of fatherhood in a way that educates the new dad while entertaining the experienced ones.

George and Edgerton, along with fellow contributors Sebastian Matthews and David Gessner, will read from "The Book of Dads" at the Regulator Bookshop in Durham at 7 p.m. May 26.

Edgerton's essay, "The Job, By the Numbers," is riotously funny, a piece that I've already passed around to friends. It's also very successful, gaining him his own book deal on fatherhood and making George's idea of a fatherhood book into a burgeoning cottage industry.

I set up an interview with Edgerton to get his insight on parenting. Little did I know, it would serve to give more insight into my world.

'Watching the kids'

When Edgerton answers, his first words are very familiar.

"I may be diverted, I'm watching the kids today." Perfect, I think, he'll be so distracted with his kids, he won't notice how distracted I am with my kids. As if to punctuate that thought, I snap my fingers two times in my boys' direction and point down forcefully, the universal sign for "quit standing on the couch."

As I put a truck DVD on the television and sprint out of the room, I bring up his distinction in "The Book of Dads" as the father with children in two generations, a daughter in her twenties and three kids whose combined ages don't add up to 20. Has he noticed a change in the job of father?

"No," he says, "for me it's pretty timeless.

"[Parenting is] kind of like being in a wilderness that could be in New York City or it could be in the Sahara Desert. You don't know the context of the wilderness until you get the kid out of it."

As Edgerton continues his answer, my son John enters the room. "Dad, I want to have sunflower seeds, please."

I crook the phone in my neck, writing furiously as I frantically wave at John, slowly bringing his pleas for sunflower seeds to a whisper. Once my note is finished, I run to the kitchen, pour a bowl of seeds for my son, and usher him back to the living room. Crisis averted.

Patience

We talk about our kids and how fascinating the differences in their personalities are. That leads to Edgerton's advice he would give to Young Dad Clyde, and any other new dad: try not to fuse them into a specific role, but let them develop their own roles and personality. Oh, and patience. Lots of patience.

After thanking him and hanging up the phone, I begin thinking about Edgerton's thoughts on parenting in separate generations, how that would help convey the depth of "The Book of Dads." I search my notes, and under the question that is to be the framework for my article, I only see three little words, underlined and circled for emphasis:

"Sunflower seeds please."

By the time I make it back to the living room, both boys have fallen asleep on the couch, side by side. I slump into the easy chair across the room and think about my interview. It certainly wasn't perfect, but it was a perfect example of my experience as a father.

There will always be inconveniences and distractions. Questions and more questions, seemingly without answer. Moments filled with self-doubt and panic and silent hand gestures. That just comes with the job. The trick is remembering that there is a forest among all those trees, and even the clumsy, nervous, distracted trees help make it a beautiful forest. I let that thought comfort me as I close my eyes and join my boys in sleep.

Charles Rempel is a stay-at-home dad and a founding member of the Van Gogh-Goghs comedy troupe.

IF YOU GO

Clyde Edgerton and other contributors will read from "The Book of Dads" at the Regulator Bookshop, 720 Ninth St., Durham at 7 p.m. Tuesday.

AN EXCERPT

Edgerton's essay, "The Job, By the Numbers," is filled with laughs, good advice, and moments that every parent can understand. In the section "Before Birth," Edgerton lampoons the myriad tasks that overwhelm and scare the new parent:

"For safe installation of the car seat, certain hooks are located out of sight in the backseat where you'd slide your hand if you were looking for something lost. If your car doesn't have these hooks, you are required by law to buy a different car. One of your cousins or a brother or a sister-in-law will eventually inspect the installation of the seat and will get very, very upset because it's too loose or not hooked up right, and they will call the authorities. This relative will be a vegetarian."