Why? Oh, why was I never blessed with a son? What did I ever do in a previous life to hatch two princesses? My wife says it’s my fault (Something about my chromosomes).
Growing up, I made sure that my daughters’ had a balanced childhood by giving them a variety of toys including dolls and trucks. Other than my wife intentionally burning everything on the BBQ resulting in me taking over, I tried to play gender neutral roles. I would perform some domestic functions and my wife would cut the grass.
In high school, educators had the time to teach my daughters that pipelines are bad but didn’t spend the time to teach them to be feminists. What happened to equal rights? Doesn’t exist in my house. When it comes to shoveling snow, fixing the car or chopping wood, they pull the girly card. There is no equality. There is only Dad jobs, no kid jobs. They don’t cook or clean. They don’t say, “Dad, stop cleaning the chimney, we believe in equality, let me do that”.
In fact, they don’t even do the “girl” jobs well. They don’t cook or clean, they can barely do their own laundry.
I always worry about my princesses. Are they ok, who are they with; do they remember the code words? I wouldn’t worry about boys; when they dump their car in the ditch and have to walk home to get the tractor to pull it out, no big deal. There is no “Daaaad, I got the car stuck in the ditch and have to meet my friends. Can you have it pulled out and cleaned by the time I get home?” (Ok, I used a little artistic license on that). I dream with envy of those families will all boys and their testosterone fueled Ferrari’s instead of my estrogen fueled Prius.
Where did I go wrong? For now I am going to blame the Internet and smart phones. Whether it’s true or not is up to future generations to debate.
Note to their future partners, I tried, I really did. Not my fault.
I do have one hope for the future, and that is karma. May karma be as big as an elephant and have the attitude of a thunderstorm.
I may change my mind as I get older (Maybe even a little wiser). I might prefer a princess to spoon feed me and change my diaper than a son (Mostly if an inheritance is involved).
I love you girls, truly and passionately. However, you must never forget their will be no Do Not Resuscitate order for me, I’m hanging in here until the end.
Thought I would stir a different pot today.
Your Arm Chair Mayor,