I Take Care of Kids, Honest!

I take care of kids all day, and I'm a guy.

I change diapers, fix food, wash dishes, vacuum the carpet, read kid's books, get them dressed, take them outside: everything that comes with watching children for ten hours a day. I experience the same boredom and loneliness associated with tending to, let's face it, the mentally disabled. Sure, children are cute and all, but when one of them is babbling and throwing noodles on the floor, and the other is wiping sauce on her forehead, it's a little hard not to make that connection.

So when I go to the park, I'm not there to molest people. Be unafraid, women that veer their kids out of my way and fail to include me in your conversations. I am the reverse result of feminism. If women can do a man's job, so too is the reverse true. After all, someone has to take care of the kids, and since we don't want every child to be raised in a daycare vat, someone has to stay home full-time during those early years. (In my case, my wife is better at working a job, I'm better at working with our kids.)

You don't need to flee from me. Sure, I am 6'1", wear glasses, and am balding, and yes that fits the physical profile of every crappy T.V. movie you've watched where some whackjob stalks a family to death, but I'd like to inform you that I'm harmless. I'm odd, true, but that's because I'm breaking a stereotype here.

So please don't consciously or unconsciously prejudice me. I'm not going to eat your kids. If you are standing around in a circle of women, and I happen to be playing with my kids on the slide, talk to me. Include me please, because I have the same feelings of inadequacy and lack of adult connections that anyone who does this job has.