Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Day 413 - My Cherie, A Door

Almost every day since I've become Mr. Mom, I have taken the kids out for a daily walk. I usually walk around the neighborhood for about thirty minutes, and then top it off with a cup of coffee. I have zeroed in on four different places to get my coffee: Starbucks, Noah's Bagels, Gelson's, and this little donut shop next to an In N' Out. Some times I'll get a pastry, and some times I won't. I don't like to plan these things in advance because it takes the excitement out of life.

The new stroller we have is great, and you can maneuver it easily with one hand. The wheel balance is great and the stroller rolls in a straight line every time. Believe me, I've tested it. Last week I was on one side of the crosswalk, gave the stroller a good push, and it made it to the other side of the street without supervision and not hitting a single car. Amazing, right?

But the one thing that is an inherent problem with all double strollers is the size. These strollers are either too long or too wide. The stroller we have is side-by-side so it's on the wider side. And the trouble you find when you're by yourself is trying to open a door while getting yourself and the stroller inside at the same time.

I bring this up because I have made an observation: People, especially men, do not help me with doors. I've seen many times when you see a woman trying to get their stroller through a door (a single stroller no less!) and someone will get up to help them get through. Furthermore, this also holds true for women who look man-ish.

Just because I have a penis doesn't mean I wouldn't appreciate a helping hand with a door. Do I give off a sense of physical perfection that I do not need help? That the bulging muscles rippling underneath my Golden Girls t-shirt shouts out, "Stay away! This man needs no help!"?
Sadly, I think not.

Maybe if more men were able to experience what it is like to stay at home to raise their kids, the world could be a different place. It could be a world where all men are bald due to exhaustion and stress. It could be a world where all men knew the names of at least three different diaper rash ointments. And it could be a world where all men would never have to pay anyone to poop or pee on them.

Dare to dream, people. Dare to dream...

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Maybe instead of a Golden Girls t-shirt you should wear one that says "Hold the door for me... I'm fragile."

And under that text there should be a picture of a kitten.