I was privy to a conversation among women the other day, during which they were getting all misty-eyed after having spent time with a bloke who had just become the father of twins.
“He held one of the babies in his arms for a whole hour,” said one breathlessly. “He’s such a good dad“. Really? I found myself thinking. Is that all it takes? Is the bar really that low? Is that all blokes need to do to impress upon you our worthiness as parents? Because frankly ladies, you are doing yourselves a disservice. It’s attitudes like these that allow us to get away with blue murder.
Probably because our forefathers did so very little about the house in the way of child-rearing, modern day dads still only need to make a token effort every now and then or worse, just be seen to be making a token effort to be showered in accolades. Witness the outpouring of sympathy a friend recently received when his wife spent a rare couple of nights away from the family home. Neighbours rallied with home-cooked meals, friends and relatives bombarded him with unsolicited offers of babysitting while doubtless, far away in Canberra, an emergency meeting of the Australian Of The Year panel was being convened.
Or the gushing admiration mates and I receive whenever we venture to the shops or playground alone with the kids to give our wives a break. It’s our one, comparatively tiny contribution to the child-wrangling all week, a small window of shamelessly high-profile parenting, and we’re all but given a ticker-tape parade.