A peek at what we make
Then a lit cigarette butt was thrown out the driver’s side window.
Oh well, so maybe they just wanted to save a few bucks on gas. But that was when it occurred to me that I was doing the exact thing I hate when people do to me. I’m a stay at home Dad. Our daughter will be 4 in January and our son is 8 months old, so I pretty much have my routine down pat at this point. I cannot even begin to tell you how tired I am of going somewhere only to have this conversation:
Stranger: “Aw, giving Mom a day off today?”
Me: “No, Mom is at work, I stay home with the kids.”
Stranger: “Oh wow, like Mr. Mom!”
This is usually where I get upset. I can -almost- tolerate the common thought that Mommy stays home and Daddy goes to work, but Mr. Mom? I am far from the bumbling, incompetent, borderline child endangering parent that was portrayed by that father. Depending on the results of a complex formula, which includes the time since last being called Mr. Mom by a stranger and the number of times spit up found its way to my shirt that day, my answer varies. If I’m really feeling kinda lousy, I retort:
“No, like Mr. Dad.”
That usually gets me a dirty look but maybe, just maybe, it will stop some other Dad from being called Mr. Mom. I guess you could consider it my own lit cigarette butt.