Daytime Confessions of a Stay Home Daddy

The background color on my computer didn't look pink when I selected it. It
was more sienna or maybe an easy on the eyes southwest orange, but going back to
change it would be admitting defeat against macho-ism. Sure some guys might point
out that pink is wimpy, girlish, etc. But it takes a real man to be able to stare pink in
the face and not worry about it either way. Staying home with the kids, changing Disney
Princess Barbie's dress, making zilch for dinero--bring it on! Soccer Dad, House Man,
you jest? Ha ha, they're good ones all of them, real funny. But I'm rubber and you're glue, just
background noise. I can take it.

Look closely madams et monsieurs and you'll see its the dads who worry about the
color pink who have the real man-issues. These are the dudes who would never think
about changing a stinky diaper in public because of fear some other insecure tough guy
might make fun of them. But not this Titanium daddy (10x the strength of steel and half
the weight of aluminum or something like that) Not me never! Laugh if you like, my
force field has been tested, it is impenetrable to outside assault!

One the inside however, once in a while, I admit it can be tough. Despite ascending
above the common masculinity hang ups and enjoying life in the outermost reaches of the
Testosterone-o-sphere I can't deny sometimes longing for an opportunity to gain self
assurance. Peek through the windows of Maison Langer-Slusher today during nap time
and you'll spot a daddy chained to the house by a sleeping squirt, longing for a maiden to
come to his rescue by needing rescuing. She wouldn't have to be beaux or jolie (not that
I’d complain if she was, but that is not the point), elderly, ugly, whatever-she just needs
to be in distress. A flat tire maybe. Yeah-that'd be the stuff of stay-home-daddy dreams.
Yours truly would huff it down to the street faster than you can say Petite Siren three
times fast. And this damsel wouldn't be driving off with the flat in the trunk and a puny
spare on. No way! I'd dig the tire patch kit out of the piles of junk in the basement, pull
out a rusty nail with the needle noses, and fix her up right! You betchya. 35psi using the
ever handy portable tire pump then drop the car back on all fours and turn those lug nuts
tight.

"Non non, c'est non pas un problème madame! Bon journée!"

With grease under the fingernails I'd hop on the machine and set a new 5k indoor
rowing world record. Then Lukas could wake up from nap time in good spirits and we'd
hit the brasserie.

"Cote de bouf avec frites et .5L Leffe triple s'il vous plait. Et pour le garçon, nuggets
de poulet et jus de pomme"