» TOKEN MALE

Portrait of a Househusband

As the cobwebs slowly clear from my head, I try and remember why I'm actually awake at this ungodly hour.

I am quickly reminded by the image of an almost four-year-old boy standing beside my bed, and the words Can you make me some breakfast Daddy, pleeeeeeese? emitting from his mouth. It is my son…my pride and joy. Of course, I'll make him breakfast. "Just give me five minutes, okay?" "Kay" is the reply.

Ten minutes pass. My son is back in my room. "Daddy, I thought you were going to make me breakfast?" "Oh, Daddy fell asleep, but I'm getting up right now."

So begins another day in the life of a househusband. My wife has been going to school every morning to upgrade her skills, but once that is finished she'll be working full-time. How did I end up as a househusband? Well, that is a story for a different day…my son needs me now.

I trudge into the kitchen to prepare the morning repast. I love my son Josh, I just hate mornings. I always have. If my wife, Tanya, has time, she'll make our son breakfast, allowing me a little more sleep, but not today. She's long gone. So I quickly organize breakfast, and that being done, I head towards my one true vice in the morning…my paper.

The kid is happily eating away and watching whatever show is on at the time…could be Dora the Explorer, could be Blues' Clues. All I know is that I cannot carry on without my paper. One day my wife took my paper to work with her. I was a wreck. I called her, and with much restraint asked her if she knew where it was. Yes, she had it with her. I politely explained to her that my paper is part of my daily ritual and would she please refrain from taking it again. Okay, she said.

There are a few bonuses to being a househusband. First, you don't have to work. I'm actually on disability (part of the story to be told at a later date) and my days are free, and that makes me the househusband. Secondly, I haven't, as of writing this, shaved in three days…and I like the look. Thirdly, I get to wear my comfy sweatpants and shirt all day long (unless we end up having plans, of course). Finally, and most importantly, I get to spend extra time with my son.

Okay, the paper is read, and now it is time to survey the scene. Hmmmm. I see laundry needing to be done, and dishes needing to be washed (thank the Lord, we just bought a dishwasher…my life just got a million times easier). One thing that will ease stress is to just accept the fact that dishes and laundry always have to be done. My wife seems to go through eight outfits a day and the laundry basket is always full. This, of course, is due to the stronger societal pressures women face in terms of having to change for every (and I mean every) single occasion. Most times I'm good in jeans and a t-shirt. When I was a bachelor, I recall doing laundry once a week. Not anymore. I also have a toddler. No matter how much I clean this place, it is always a mess…unless we have company coming over and then we magically manage to keep it clean at least until they walk through the door.

I'm not big on giving baths. It's just one of those things. Fortunately, baths happen at night, when my wife is home. I'm not big on cooking either, but I may have to learn if my wife's new job keeps her away from the house a little later than usual. I've always found food tastes better if somebody else makes it for you, but I may have to change my thinking.

Sorry, I've got to go. My son is calling me. It seems there is some butt-wiping needing to be done and I don't see anyone else around here that's going to do it. One more adventure in this daily journey that began what seems like many hours ago, though looking at the clock I see it is only lunchtime.

Stay tuned for more exciting stories from Mike Mountain, househusband extraordinaire.