Reverse Discrimination?

I know I've written here before about "that Mom" and my fear of being her.

But do you know what I've discovered?

The male equivalent to "that Mom" does not exist. There is never "that Dad."

I've noticed this from my observations both of Brendon taking the kids out on his own, and watching other men out and about with their children. Brendon can take all three of the kids out when they are at their most ragamuffin, unkempt, unmatched, and grumpiest selves, and it never fails that he comes home with stories of how random women stopped him and commented on the kids' cuteness and/or his super-dadness for braving it with them on his own. Never. fails.

By the same token, whenever I see a dad out with his kids somewhere and one of them is having a fit or looking like a disaster, my automatic thought is usually, "Oh, bless his heart," and I give him a sympathetic smile as I pass. (The only exception to this is if the dad is being a mean jerk to his fit-throwing/disaster-looking child. In that case, the sympathetic look goes to the child.)

I can't be the only one...do you do this, too? Automatically award the dad a medal of honor in your head for being a <gasp> involved father? But then just expect it of women...and maybe even judge her a bit for the tantrum or the ragamuffin-ness?

Well, it's got to stop. I am officially going to start awarding a mental medal of honor to ANYONE--be it dad, mom, male, female, family member, or friend--who is willing to brave taking a child out into the great wide world, facing potential hissyfits, stained clothing, potty accidents, or just plain attitude.

Great job, people! And bless your hearts!