Sometimes I get irritated because all Unknown Papi has to do is take the kids to the store on his own and someone will stop him to congratulate him on being a great father. I’ve never once had a stranger come up to me on a regular day and tell me I’m being a great mother. I feel lucky if someone begrudgingly holds a door open for me while I’m nursing one in a baby carrier (as I walk), holding the other one’s hand, and carrying 3 grocery bags in my “spare” hand. Doesn’t seem fair.
Mother’s Day is totally different. All I have to do is walk out of the house with spit up on my shirt and people trip over themselves trying to wish me a happy Mother’s Day. I have to be honest and say that I enjoy it so much I might be guilty of just aimlessly wandering the streets and making eye contact with strangers to pry well-wishes from them. On Father’s Day, I was looking forward to my husband getting the same kind of treatment. Didn’t happen. The poor dope spent “his” day running errands with his family and not one single stranger wished him a happy Father’s Day. Not even when he was carrying both kids at the same time. Doesn’t seem fair.
Unknown Papi takes exception with me calling him a dope in the previous paragraph. Please note I meant it affectionately and do not have a problem with dope or dopes.
Have you heard the exciting news? This Sunday at 9:00 am the planets are aligning in a way that will make it possible for Unknown Mami to meet Mrs. 4444 (pronounced fours). Unknown Mami is getting her paper bag all gussied up for the occasion. Unknown Mami thought this bit would be more interesting if she wrote it in the third person. Unknown Mami was wrong.
And now your Friday Fortune Cookie (don’t forget to add “in bed” at the end, if you are so inclined):
Just ’cause you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you.
(I overheard it while typing up this post on the TV show Without A Trace.)