Suburban Snapshots

I Hope I Didn't Accidentally Emasculate You

Monday, June 23, 2014

Sometimes I'm not my best. Sometimes I'm careless, I don't use common sense, I've gone as far as being pretty shitty. But in context, on the whole, I think I'm good. I think I'm a friend you'd like to have. I'll bring you soup when you're sick, I'll come over when you're upset and you tell me not to bother, I'll watch your kids in a pinch and I won't judge your husband after you tell me for an hour straight what an asshole he was to you when work was stressing him out.

Sometimes my husband is careless too. Sometimes he screws up, doesn't use common sense, and while I can't say he's ever been truly shitty, at times he's really annoying. Because I'm a humorist, well, I turn all of this into jokes. And in between joking about Steve, I tell you about the time I ambushed him with four foster puppies, or volunteered him to help autistic kids learn to surf, and how he did it all with barely an eyeroll. How ultimately, he helped like he always does. The way a man does.

What Steve understands is that when I take a crack at him for the benefit of thousands of people on the Internet, it's because that's what I do. It's part of my life online. He deals with not having the opportunity for a "his side," and accepts that I elaborate and exaggerate for the sake of the gag. He knows that he's still going to get lucky later and that four posts from now he'll be my hero again.

It's this last part that I wish the men who occasionally stumble on a status or post of mine would get the hang of. Invariably when I make even an innocuous swipe at Steve or husbands, a man whose name I don't recognize appears in the comments. He might assume that I'm generalizing the whole of the male population, perpetuating the stereotype of the hapless husband and his exasperated wife. It's clear from his comment that he was looking to feel dismissed and persecuted, that he's read too much into my update, and that he wandered in from someone else's "Like."

This guy. I can always count on some version of him. I've stopped replying (mostly) because his agenda is set. I'd have an easier time getting the six-year-old to understand the value of diversifying her diet than defending myself to a white, middle-class, 21st century American man with oppression issues. And I'm certainly not going to paint myself or Steve as flawless parental specimens to avoid offending someone — you can all go read Goop if that's what you're into.

There are dad and mom bloggers rallying for the portrayal of fathers as competent, caring, involved parents. They do a great job of it and they're clearly being heard — yesterday I saw an ad for laundry detergent where the dad was in charge and there wasn't even a punchline, just a dad folding the wash and taking care of his kids. And it's my guess that the people working to update old notions of fatherhood are too busy being awesome to bother feeling offended by dishwasher innuendo on Facebook.

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