martha, martha, martha!
a generous anonymous reader directed your hero's attention to this site:
Calling all Mr. Moms: Be a part of the "Mr. Mom Show" on Martha. It's National Men Make Dinner Day and you're invited to join 164 stay-at-home Dads in the live studio audience. Join us Thursday, November 3rd. It's all about you, Dad!there are so very many things wrong with those four sentences, i have no clue where to begin. but i'ma give it my best.
first of fucking all: mr. mom?? "mr. mom?" jumping moses, this is 2005, people! i ain't no 1983 michael keaton fired-from-work clueless stay-at-home careerist douche battling gender stereotypes and finding myself suddenly discovering "gosh, parenting is hard work too!" FUCK! i mean, i know how to change a diaper in 0.08 seconds. i know how to do the grocering; i am a fucking laundry WIZARD. i don't just "do" the dishes, i become them. (i know how to clean house too, but i am totally ok with admitting that i hate and avoid it at all costs.) also: i like my kid. a lot. she is not some foreign bizzarro entity who happens to live with, and urinate upon, us.
second of all: "national men make dinner day?" GODDAMN IT I COOK DINNER ALL THE FUCKING GODDAMN TIME. thai duck curry, anyone? or maybe something lighter, like an heirloom tomato salad with homemade vinaigrette? pork chops with pear-leek compote and a side of kale-potato hash, perhaps? how about some spicy chana masala and aloo gobi? YOU GET THE PICTURE.
third of all: Martha? you go girl and all, but, please leave me out of it.
fourth: am i really invited to join 164 stay-at-home dads in the studio?! really?? *squeal!* oh, goodie! oh, thank you Martha. thank you for this rare and life-changing opportunity. excuse me for wetting myself, but i simply cannot wait to swap stories with my reclusive ilk! just think of all the things we'll have to talk about: "so, you're a stay-at-home-dad, eh?"
"hey, me too!"
"that's swell, chief."
"um ... don't you think Martha totally got screwed by the Man?!"
fifth: nov. 3, right? would that be to celebrate the 250th anniversary of the colony of Massachusetts' offering a bounty of 20 pounds for the scalps of native american children under 12? waaaait a second! what exactly does martha have in mind for my child?
sixth: "it's all about you, Dad???" actually, no. it's all about my daughter. you know, the one i stay home for? my 16-pound drooling, episodically-defecating, grunting, napless, non-rolling-over, impatient, ADD-afflicted, hairless, bleating goat-girl. thank you for your smarmy condescension, though. i feel so good about myself now.