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Dad Diary

 When I walk my baby, I notice that there are male commenters and there are female commenters, and I hate both groups.


I hate the male commenters, because their response to a meltdown is to laugh uncomfortably and say, "Oh, I remember *those* days...." And then I feel I have to manage their useless discomfort--but in fact I have a screaming infant on my hand.

I hate the female commenters because I find they like to offer unsolicited advice, in a passive-aggressive way. One might say, "Little girl, where are your shoes?" My non-verbal little girl cannot answer, and my own (repressed) comment might be: "Mind your own fucking business."

Another might say, "You'll want to bring a transitional object next week, so your baby doesn't cry when I have to collect the tambourines." And I might say: "WANT? Lady, WANT has nothing to do with all this. I WANT to be in Crete...."

But I suppose we're all doing our best. Mostly, I just use a maniacal laugh, like I'm Christine Baranski, and I try to change the subject.

P.S. There is a third subset of people, people who don't comment. I really like this group.
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