Happy Father’s Day to the 21st Century Husband

Dear 21st Century Husband,

Moms today are so glad you don’t suck. You rock. It’s true, sometimes we may get into our little groups and make fun of your unusual parenting tactics, but deep down, we appreciate you more than you know.

Our Fathers {well, most anyway}
Most of our own fathers were the breadwinners. This was swell and all, but not so fantastic for our moms’ sanity, I assume. When our dads got home from work, like Papa Bear, they  would plop into their Lazy Boy with the newspaper – only with a Scotch in their hand too. Don’t get me wrong, our dads were hands-on in their own 20th Century way. But, our mothers were the ones who did the diapers, the feedings, the wake-ups, the conferences, the packed lunches, the everything. It was quite rare that you found a 20th Century father wiping butts or doing middle-of-the-night feedings. I am not sure how our mothers survived this or didn’t become raging alcoholics.

Fathers Today
It is common that husbands like you actually do some of the nasty, dirty work of parenting starting from the newborn stage. You’ve even had to take some scissors to cut a onesie that just did not survive that mustardy blowout. Thank, God. This parenthood business is an actual teamwork. The best part is that you, Dad, are doing all of this stuff because you want to. Well, maybe not the barf, but you do it regardless. You parent, reprimand, encourage girls’ nights, and support us when we are about to lose our ever-loving minds.

It’s true, you’re usually the favorite. You supply the Oreo’s, unlimited screen time, late bedtimes and endless games. We’re usually the bad cop, but we’re used to this by now. We’re just stoked that you’re so involved in this parenting gig.

When Puke Makes You Appreciate Your Husband
My gratitude came to its pinnacle when our family of four was on our way to a little weekend getaway across state. We were driving in the car when all of a sudden, my two-year-old daughter puked, puked, then puked some more  – all over the car, carseat and herself. It was beyond disgusting – that stench. Thankfully, my husband took the reigns and immediately started cleaning up. He did everything while I stripped my daughter down and cleaned her in the middle of the parking lot. So. Much. Dry-heaving.

On the way back home, as the barf perfume sailed passed my nose, I grabbed his hand, started laughing and said, “I’m so glad you don’t suck.” That lovely event would have been so much more stressful if my husband wasn’t such a badass.

It’s true. Dads today, you get it. We usually don’t have to nag you to get it done. You get down and play with your kids and truly want to be involved. Happy Father’s Day, 21st Century, Dad. Enjoy your day, well, being a dad.

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