I just flew back from Oakland with Andie – having been in town to go to my friend Brady and Carolyn’s wedding – and I was reminded constantly of what a great parent I am. Man, oh man, I’m a great dad.
From the initial flight where I was running hurriedly through the airport to my gate with Andie hanging precariously from one arm — to my return flight where my pants were falling down as I walked belt-less through the metal detector at security (and only lightly grazed her head against one of the sides) – was I constantly given lavish approval from everyone about what a great dad I was. Not only could I see the appreciation in their eyes, but people were constantly telling me.
This is because I was born with a penis.
There is an amazing double standard, whereby whatever a dad on his own is doing with his young child he is an amazing father. Michael Chabon’s book, Manhood for Amateurs, has an great anecdote about this involving a Berkeley Grocery Store and gum in his kids hair – so good in fact, whatever I write here will feel like a ripoff.
I’ll just say that on the flight, as a man, I was offered constant help and and attention from not only the staff, but my fellow passengers…. Would this be the case if I had provided the Y chromosome to this deal? I doubt it.
Tony Danza was the greatest father alive to little Samantha, there’s no denying that, but I think I’m well on my way to usurping him based solely on the positive feedback I’m given. Please keep it up society, I need it. As an aside, Southwest Airlines is the best airline in the world to bring a kid on… and not just because the bags fly free.