Where’s Your Mother?!

One of the great things about being a stay-at-home-dad is that, when things go wrong, people tend to ignore you and blame the mother.  Somehow the general public still cannot wrap their minds around the fact that the father may, in fact, be the one responsible for the terrible behavior that is spewing forth from the child.  This fact was made quite clear to me on Friday when two separate women said the same thing to my naughty, naughty son.  “Where’s your mother?!”

Edward’s response to both women was the same, although the second lady was much more pleasant about her inquiry and said it in a kind of nice way.  The first lady was not nice at all, so Edward responded accordingly.  I was waiting in line at the bookstore and Edward decided that this was boring and he would rather go hang out by the exit doors.  As there were several people behind me, I didn’t feel that I could effectively wrangle him, so I settled for keeping an eye on him and making sure he did not leave the store, attack anyone, or break anything.

The woman was not amused by this.  Since he clearly was not at the bookstore in the middle of the day with a male person, she leaned over and said, quite sharply, “WHERE’S YOUR MOTHER?”

Edward, not missing a beat, shouted back into her face, “SHE’S AT WOOOOOOORRRRK!”

The woman seemed awfully offended and taken aback by this, so I thought I should step in before she grabbed him and took him to a shelter or something.

“Edward, don’t yell at people please!” I called out from my precious spot in line.

“Is he with you?” asked the woman haughtily.

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Well, if he keeps playing with these doors he’s going to get his fingers pinched!” she informed me helpfully.

“Yes, that would teach him,” I responded.

Well, at this the woman just glared at me, and then glared at Edward, and stormed out of the store, on her way to join the rest of her coven I suppose.  Luckily it was now finally my turn in the line, so I paid for my book, grabbed Edward, and got out of there.

Now before you all yell at me, I will admit that it is probably not a good idea to let my child run loose around stores by himself, and I generally try to discourage this, so I have to take some of the blame for this incident.  I would probably be mad at me too.  But why be nasty about it?  And more importantly, why ask where my child’s mother is?  I mean, he told you the truth.  She is at work.  The second lady that asked him the same question as he snuck around the supermarket aisle to hide from me, was also informed by him that his mother was at work.  Asking where someone’s mother is maybe isn’t the best way to go these days.  Maybe ask where their Mommy or Daddy is.  Or maybe ask if they are there with a grown-up, just in case they are there with their au pair or something.  Because when you assume that it must be their mother that is watching them, you not only set societal progression back several decades, but you also make me care a whole lot less about fixing whatever you are upset about.  After all, I’m only the father, so it must not be my problem.