iPhoned It In

So a few weeks ago, we were hosting an over the top, decadent, life altering party.  It was for Halloween and the lighting scheme was only candles, which made everyone look lovely and golden...even the terrifying scarecrow couple who had dead crows dangling from his participles. During one of the courses, I dropped my phone.

One foot down

          In slow motion


                        end over end
                               over end over end
                                              over end over end


                                                                             soft bump on soft wood floor

Screen shattered. 

A few weeks and one second before my phone fell, I judged those people who pulled out there phone and still stroked their finger over divided triangled glass, pinching and moving the picture to fit into the largest unbroken section.  Well...

I 

Have

Been

Humbled.

Who am I to judge?!  Maybe they work a lot and the Apple Store want to charge them $170 to fix it?! And maybe they got their phone insured but used Verizon instead, and there is no Verizon store in the mall they work at and so there is no way of finding out what they would cost...though, I suppose they could still use their phone, only their ear bleeds when he does.

So this week on PTA we are all talking about what is on our iPods and let me tell you, the only thing on my iPod is a busted a** screen.  And it's the worst!  I mean, you live your life thinking you are better than most people and that you are for SURE better than those dummies with huge pink plastic protective cases (sorry honey) duct taped to this sleek sexy skinny phone. (btw I opted for a super cute wood sticker that went on the back and on the face of the phone but left the sides as God made them...naked and black!) And then in the end it turns out you are no better than those you reveled in judging, but perhaps you are even worse because you were, all along, wrong. And now my ear bleeds when my mom calls but for reals instead of figuratively...Ha ha ha ha...just kidding mother.

So if by chance I have met you and you were talking on your phone that you have dressed like the little brother going to school in 'A Christmas Story' I want you to know I judged you, I thought the less of you and thought you to be a person who can't control even one pretty little thing in their life. 

I was wrong.

I am sorry.

Accidents happen to anyone...though mine happened at a super sexy party that you probably weren't invited to.

I feel so much better.

Why Are Our Expectations of Dads So Low?

Last weekend my wife was out of town. She had taken a much needed vacation with some friends to spend a weekend in San Francisco. While she was gone, I was on Dad Duty. On Friday, while the older kids were in school, I took my youngest out for waffles. Mostly because it was a good excuse to try the new Belgian waffle and french fry place that opened by our house (mini review: my two waffles were topped with cookie butter, sliced strawberries and vanilla bean ice cream. Hold me. Hold me and never let me go.)

While we were there I Instagramed the above photo, as a modern, hip, iOS loving Dad is want to do. When I posted the photo several of the comments were to the effect of "You are a great dad!" And to be clear, it was super nice of people to say that. And, for the record, I do think I am a great Dad. But why was going to breakfast with my daughter (something that my wife does frequently on any give day of the week I am sure) suddenly shoot me into the stratosphere of awesome dad-ness?

Another example: One summer when my boys were little we lived a couple of blocks away from a 7-11. I have a Diet Coke obsession and one day, I wanted a frosty beverage, as a modern, hip, thirsty Dad is want to do. So I loaded the boys into the double stroller and took the short walk to the 7-11 to get them Slurpees and to get me a drink. As we walked home from the store, beverages in hand, not one, not two but three people driving past leaned out of their car windows and yelled to me things to the effect of "You are a great Dad!!"

Basically, if you are a Dad and you don't beat your kids in public or feed them to lions, you are winning in the world's eyes. If a dad is on an outing with his kids, and all the kids seem to be living and not bleeding, we cheer them like they have exceeded our wildest dreams. Why do we have such low expectations of Dads? I have had Dad friends get free drinks at a restaurant, or free balloons, or compliments just because they were out with the kids without a wife present.

I guess maybe the question isn't why we are so easy on Dads, but why we are so hard on Moms. If a Dad is struggling to keep his kids under control at the grocery store, he's likely to get sympathetic comments, or offers to help. Because clearly he is totally helpless. But if a Mom is with her kids and they are acting up, she is much more likely to get the stink-eye from her fellow shoppers. What's wrong with that Mom? Why can't she keep her kids under control?

So maybe when we see a dad out eating waffles with melted chocolate on top of them we should think "That's a great Dad! Is that a melted chocolate bar on top of that waffle?! Where can I get one of those?" And when we see a Mom at the grocery store with her kids, unruly or not, we should think "What a great Mom. Grocery shopping sucks and she is trying to get it done with her kids in tow. And kids can be jerks sometimes." We're all in this together. Let's just cheer each other on, OK? Moms included.

But seriously, I took the kids to get haircuts and to go swimming while my wife was gone. I mean, I AM AWESOME!