Family Man: Something About Mommy

I mean, society tells us moms are superior. TV commercials depict bumbling fathers being bailed out by all-knowing mothers. When a father does anything more than play catch with his kid, he’s called “Mr. Mom.” Truth be told, for all the talk about a so-called man’s world, boys and men spend most of their time looking for the attention and approval of women.

Why am I so bitter? How should I feel since, no matter how much I drive car pool, coach T-ball and read picture books, my children see Mommy as King … er, Queen. Nine times out of 10, my children run to Mommy first. I could be standing right in front of Benjamin with a first-aid kit and he’ll say, “I scraped my knee really badly! Where’s Mommy?” I could make all of Jacob’s favorite foods and he won’t eat until almighty Mama picks up the spoon.

Even when I gallantly parent solo, I toil under the pressure of trying to do things as well as she does. When Wendy took a recent weekend away, chaos played to the strains of a Tchaikovsky symphony as Jacob (16 months) turned the bathroom upside down while I speed-showered in the morning. At mealtimes, he broke dishes and chucked food like Barry Bonds. Pitifully shorthanded, I left Benjamin (almost 5) to dress himself (mismatching his clothes like a geriatric in Ft. Lauderdale), eat well (taking 20 minutes to consume one bite of hamburger) and socialize maturely (acting like Sponge Bob on super-seaweed at the grocery store).

Somehow, though, I was proud to get through two days without major injuries. My sons lavished me with praise. “Daddy, you’re the bestest,” Benjamin said.