Sunday, June 19, 2011

A Bad Dad Story For Father's Day

I try to control the sexism that living in a patriarchy tends to stir up in me - truly, I do - but many things (about men trying to make laws controlling my uterus, about our society's incessant bullying of women and children) make this a challenge.  I am especially ticked about the way society judges mothers as if they should be able to control everything that ever happens in the world or pay for it dearly (kind of the way society has been treating teachers lately, but moms have been getting it for even longer) yet praises dads to the high heavens for "babysitting" their kids, even if they don't even know key details like, oh, the name of their child's teacher or doctor.

People are always telling stories on moms who are just trying to do the best they can - women who are there in the trenches with their kids, day in and day out, who have the unmitigated gall to be less than perfect or to possess no omnipotent control over the economy/illnesses.  Personally, I'm not about judging parents who are there doing the day-to-day work of keeping their kids safe and healthy and educated without hope of help or reward. 

Somehow, I don't feel quite the same about the sort of parent who thinks he deserves a medal for that one time he grudgingly took off work when his kid was sick.  A few months ago, I witnessed the following tableau in a doctor's office, while waiting to pick up some lab orders for my daughter:

Dad is at the front desk with a child who might be anywhere from six to eight  - big enough for eight but a face and manner that suggested she was probably younger - skittering around him while he talked to the receptionist. 

Dad:  I don't know.  I'm not the one who usually brings her to the doctor.  I'm just doing her a favor because she couldn't do it today.  Do you have it on file or something?

Receptionist:  We have to see the insurance card at each time of service.  That will be $60.

Dad:  She didn't give me any money.

Receptionist:  Do you think you could call her and see if this insurance information is correct?

Dad:  (sighing in annoyance, talks out cell phone and Hands It To The Sick Little Girl)  Try to call her.

Sick Little Girl, who apparently has had to deal with Useless Dad before, calls mother and gives phone to dad who gives it to the receptionist as she is a woman and apparently is more responsible for working this out than he is. He and kid sit down.

By this time, I was hoping I had misinterpreted things,  Perhaps he was not the child's father, but  some helpful neighbor who got called on in a pinch and was in over his head, having no children of his own and no knowledge of how the offices of doctors function.  Then the child commenced climbing all over his lap and this hope died - he was the father.

That man deserves no Happy Father's Day.  He deserves a kick in the pants for thinking he is somehow less responsible for getting his kid to the doctor than is the child's mother.   To all the dads out there like him, please spend this Father's Day learning how to get over your sexist self and be a responsible parent.

To the fathers who do share equally in parenting their children (know any?  I'm thinking really hard, but...I have read about quite a few, I just don't think I've met them - my daughter does have a friend who was raised by her father, but I have actually only met that child's mother at school - hmmm - still I'm told her dad is the responsible one and the mom is a total flake), Happy Father's Day.  You rock.

4 comments:

gojirama said...

That poor kid. I'm really blessed in that regard. I don't take kids to the doctor- Brian takes off work and does it for me ( even when I have to call him and say, "Get home and take your son to the ER" )

Veloute said...

Wow! He does deserve a kick in the pants. Mind boggling.

Saints and Spinners said...

Yeah. I wish I could say that office scenario was a freak occurrence, but I can't. I'm pretty lucky. Bede is the primary wage-earner and I am the primary care-giver, but his work schedule is such that we can work out satisfactory child-care arrangements. Today (on Father's Day!), he got breakfast in bed, but then he vacuumed the house, scrubbed the bathroom, and took The Girl on his errands so that I could combine my errands with exercise.

I hate it when people refer to dads "babysitting" their own kids. If the child is yours, it's called childcare.

Andrea said...

Ugh, that makes me want to gag. I once saw a man at the beach with a baby and a preschooler--when he had gathered the children, the umbrella, the tote bag and the cooler up and headed out, he received a round of applause from all the surrounding beachgoers. Have you ever gotten a round of applause for getting your kids to and from the beach alone, in one piece? Me neither.