Daddy plunges. Mommy does the rest.

I recognize that I am somewhat of an anomaly–I run a business, work hard, burn the midnight oil, want to be successful, retire early.


I cook, buy groceries, prepare school lunches, take my kids to school, pick them up after school, drive them to their after-school activities, help them with homework, read to them during tuck-in, clean up their barf, watch Free Willy together.

When they were younger, I changed their diapers, wiped their tushies, gave them a bottle in the middle of the night, held them when they cried, burped them, bathed them, put Band-Aids on boo-boos.


Most guys my age hire help for these responsibilities. Or, they rely upon their non-working spouse to manage the home while they earn a living to support the family. Or, in many cases, they even count on their working spouses to man the domestic front.


I prefer kid interaction over parenting by proxy. If given the choice, I might even choose full-time parenting over work.

I want my kids to remember the moments we played chess together, built snow forts for snow ball fights, when I chaperoned the class trip to the local environmental center, wiped away the tears because my son got a yellow slip in his backpack for misbehavior, woke up in the middle of the night to view the lunar eclipse.


I sit next to my daughter in our breakfast nook inches away from the refrigerator while my wife reads in another room and my daughter shouts out, “Mommy! I’m hungry.”

I stand at the stove preparing the night’s meal and my son turns to my wife and asks, “Mommy, what’s for dinner?”

I get a call from my spouse who works in a different state relaying a message she receives from my daughter who goes to school three minutes away from where I work to pick her up earlier than expected because her after-school activity was canceled.


When it’s time to unclog that smelly toilet or swipe the spider from the wall, whose name do you think they call?


While they may not acknowledge the myriad of ways I dedicate myself to being an interactive parent, at least I can take comfort in the props they give me for my mad crapper plunging skills.

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