For reasons I won't go into, Mr. J burned through that 90-minute window this weekend. And I told him then, "This is the only time I have for his Valentines box. If you keep me from using this time, you will have to be responsible for the box." I had to travel for work on Tuesday, getting home on Wednesday after Mr. J had left for his own trip. On Monday night I set out the shoe box and the stickers, and I told him, "You and Bear will have to make that box while he is home with you on Tuesday morning. If I get home on Wednesday night and there is no creative decorated box, it will be ugly for you, capisce?"
So last night, I staggered downstairs after putting the kids to bed (absolutely knackered), and went looking for the box. Here's what I found.
My first reaction, of course, was: Sonuvabitch, I have to make another f%^&ing box. I can't send him to school with this on Friday. Mr. J couldn't even have wrapped the box in tissue paper? Hell, wrap it in printer paper! How am I going to remove and reapply those stickers?
But then I thought twice. You know what? Screw it. So the other moms will sneer at his box. Screw them. Bear won't care - he had fun making the box with Daddy, and he doesn't need to feel like the box he made wasn't good enough.
And when I tell the teachers Bear made his box specially with Daddy, they will love it, because if Mama helped make this box it would be a shameful embarrassment, but Daddy? Wow! What a Super Involved Father!
Mr. J gets kudos just for showing up. He makes a crappy half-a$$ed box, he's Father Of The Year! I'm riding that double standard as far as it will take me.
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