Back to the Kitchen

So yesterday I'm walking with another dad (we go to Starbucks once a week or so), and the maintenance workers in our complex, seeing us, say, "Giving mom a break. Good for you!" Neither of us said anything; the other dad, who is also doing most of the childcare this summer, was outraged, but as I told J, I was honestly relieved that they didn't see me as a wussy man who is doing childcare while his wife brings home the bacon. But of course the assumption that they made is not surprising; what kind of weird world do I live in now? Never in my wildest dreams did I expect that the 1970s would be some kind of progressive pinnacle, and from there, we would go backwards. In theory, I mean, obviously--few dads stayed home in the 70s either, but still, it was seen as a desirable goal. Now it's not even part of our thinking. If Emily isn't wearing pink, people assume that she's a boy--no matter if she's wearing some sort of equally "girly" color. Or even clothes with flowers on them. If it ain't pink, it ain't a girl. Apparently my generation is rebelling against the unisex clothes we wore growing up.