The hustle and bustle around my apartment is always filled with noise from people of the miniature version, kids. Every morning I pass more than my fair share of toddlers, and middle schoolers. Most of the week they are with their moms. Most moms in power suits, with heels, holding their purse on one arm, pushing a stroller, or wrangling a kid from each hand, while simultaneously talking on the phone and sipping their lattees. No joke, these women actually exist.
And then, there are the mornings where it seems to be "Dad's day." The day where the kids clearly got to pick out their own clothes, where the little girls hair, is in what looks like was supposed to be a braid but didn't quite turn out. Its so funny to notice the difference, but there is in fact a difference. I see dads running up and down Columbus avenue. Some trying to catch the bus, with their kids, like ducks racing after them. Some walkind down the street with their kids on their shoulders. Others speeding around the corner with their strollers going on two wheels, while to little ones are racing with their back packs, just trying to keep up. The air around the kids on these days seems a little more frantic and a little less put together. Whats even more comical is when these dads pass those moms that I was describing. The moms wave, because of course the know these men and the shake their head in a sort of pitying way. It seems to be the unanimous signal for, "Well, at least he tried."
My hats off to you dads. Keep it up. Your kids and your wives love you anyways. Even if you forgot to pack their lunch.
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