The appearance of incompetence. It happens to us all. It certainly happens to me – but I have insanity and prozac as reliable scapegoats. But when it happens to a father, then he for some reason feels like the finger of suspicion is pointing at him, everyone is laughing, and he will shortly be up for nomination as Worst Parent of the Year.
Bill was in charge of Lily and Poppy on Friday night while I was out on my college night. He was feeling particularly pleased with himself, having got the pair upstairs, washed and scrubbed with no major tantrums erupting. Mentally patting himself on the back and dreaming of that bottle of white wine cooling in the fridge, he reached for their pyjamas; and then it struck him – like a tonne of bricks (or a toddler wielding a heavy-handled skipping rope at head height) – there were no nappies in the house. 7 o’clock on a Friday evening, home alone, with not a nappy in sight. And although Poppy is potty-trained during the day (just about!), she still needs a nappy at night.
So it was a site of devastation I returned to later that evening. Every drawer and cupboard had been turned out, in the desperate hunt for a nappy, all to no avail. Bill had ended up piling them both into the car and headed for Sainsbury’s (thank heavens for 24 hour shopping!). He said he was too embarrassed to take them in with him, but mindful of the fact that leaving a two and a five year old unattended in a car in a public place wasn’t exactly up there on the list of perfect parenting tips either. So he bit the bullet and reluctantly dragged the two pyjama-clad children with him on the nappy hunt.
He had hoped to get in and out with nobody noticing him. But Poppy and Lily were determined to let the whole shop know that daddy had forgotten the nappies, and they were out on an exciting late-night shopping trip as a result - so they told everyone they came across (Bill says it is remarkable just how many people do go shopping in Sainsbury's on a Friday night at 7 o’clock). He felt like everyone was judging him as a completely incompetent hopeless dad, who didn’t know one end of a baby from the other.
Grabbing the nappies and rushing through the checkout, with one last embarrassing ‘Daddy got no nappies!’ from Poppy to the checkout lady, and he was herding them back through the shop to the front door. Just as he thought he’d got away with it, he heard the noise of a tap being turned on, and pivoting in horror, he saw Poppy standing behind him, feet hip-with apart, shouting ‘I have done a wee! I have done a wee I have!’
I don’t think he’ll be rushing back to Sainsbury’s in the very near future, my dear Sweet William! (Who, by the way, is the most competent dad I know, so that award can go to one of the other many hundreds of parents enjoying late night dashes to Sainsbury’s. We've all been there one way or another).
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment