Dad of All Trades, Master of None

Domesticated, Not Demasculinized

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With all due respect to Mr. T…introducing the “Pity Da Fool”

Posted by doatmon on July 27, 2009

Well, it’s Monday.

As recently as a week ago, Monday meant the start of a hectic and uneventful work-week.  It meant taking French Fry to pre-school, Chicken Nugget to Daycare.  It meant returning phone calls and e-mails.  It meant updating web sites and scouring the weekend’s news for stories I might have missed pertaining to my clients.

This week, it’s Monday.  And that means, well, it means it’s Monday.  Oddly freeing and yet suffocating.

About the only other thing I can say is that Monday also means that the play-yard at one of our local malls is inhabitable again for the first time in three days.  The bullies, teenagers reliving their terrible twos and princesses screaming about their nails getting chipped have mostly all returned to their respective residences.

And of course, that’s where my two rugrats want to go on our first Monday together.  The play-yard.  The most dangerous Petri Dish in Columbus.  Where Jimmy Hoffa, little Timmy and parental sanity are all buried, never to be seen again.

But it also means a few moments of physical activity for my daughters, in air conditioning as mother nature intended.  It means a few minutes to catch-up on podcasts from the weekends.  And the always remote and outside chance of meeting a MILP.  Not MILF.  MILP.  To me, at this stage in my life, the MILP is infinitely more important than the MILF.  You know, MILP.  Mom-I’d-Liketo-Playdate.

Sadly, no MILP’s today.  But plenty of moms.  Plenty of SAHers.  Plenty of opinions as to what the overweight, balding father with one ear-bud might be doing desecrating their diseased play space.  In a relatively short period of time, I feel I have learned to decipher the myriad of looks I receive whether at play-yards, playgrounds or “mommy and me” time at the local library.

There are almost as many stares and glares as there are Wiggles songs that make me want to commit Hara-Kiri.  Just to be clear, that’s a lot.

I plan to enumerate the various looks in future blogs, but I thought I would start with the one most prevalent today: The “Pity Da Fool.”

The “Pity Da Fool” is a mother (I have yet to run into a PDF dad) who is clearly a SAHer and a veteran one at that.  This ain’t her first pediatric rodeo.  She deftly maneuvers strollers through malls, is confident in her ability to sit on a bench at the playground and maintain order amongst the masses and is most likely a member of at least one play-group and one book club.  A regular Bunko night is optional, but routinely present as well.

The “Pity Da Fool” isn’t angered or threatened by the presence of DOATMON, but rather has sorrow and, well, pity, in her immaculately primped and plucked eyes.  There is a palpable sense of the real possibility of The “Pity Da Fool” patting DOATMON on the head and saying, “There, there…everything will be okay.”

Should there be a physical, verbal or tearful confrontation between the kids of a PDF and DOATMON, the PDF will shepherd her children away and explain the virtues of being kind to those “less fortunate.”  Should a Starbucks be spilled, a diaper be defiled or a tumble take place, the PDF is one of the first on the scene to “assist” DOATMON and offer her condolences and her advice.

This is not to say that the PDF is rude or intentionally condescending. Rather, it just never occurred to her that a dad would either be capable or interested in staying at home with the kids.  The “Pity Da Fool” is often easily converted into a friend and could, down the road, potentially become a MILP.

Anyone know any PDFs?

No, geeks, not Adobe PDFs.  I know it’s hard for you nerds to exist in our society.

“There, there…everything will be okay.”


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