PS : What About Dad?
So I would be speaking for the 30...20...10...or 5% who think it is time to end the unfairness. Before I actually get on with it, please note that this piece may not and doesn't really have to agree with every one. But if at some point you think we are on the same page or you get to feel like there is an iota of truth as you read on...well...
Now as children we were taught these lines 'who sat and watched my infant head while sleeping on my cradle bed'. Not wanting to be the buzz kill of whatever childhood memories this infamous poem holds for you but then, is that really the case? did mothers always sit and watch? I mean there was definitely a time when Mummy was too bruised from childbirth to look after herself what more after a new born you, so did it ever occur to you that Someone else did the watching then?
Empathy for women and mothers have made the world's view on parenting a little skewed. Everyone thinks the mother did it all, neglecting the fact that there were times when someone else attended PTA meetings on the weekends while Mummy was at her usual Saturday gig #owambe. Now who actually was there when you were sick and Mummy was crashing on the vacant bed beside you?
Looking at the fact that we have more single mums than there are dads doesn't provide a basis for the biases making the rounds. Like if we must sing the praises of our mothers can there be a small portion of that kept for fathers? Can we have poems for fathers taught in schools as well or do we just divide the 3 verses of the infamous ‘Who sat and watched poem’ and then dedicate at least a verse to fathers?
Oh yes mothers are soft and sweet and emotional and all things fathers may not be but you can never judge the book called 'a father' by its tough exterior. Do not let your judgment be based on the hardness of the cover or the fact that the book looks torn and worn, there is a lot more within it. Buried in this book is the tale no one ever tells, not even mothers. The sweat and stress that has become the success story called 'you' lies within this not so attractive book and if for any reason you keep walking by this book that has for years been on the shelve of your life without you even flipping through its pages, then be informed that you are neglecting a treasure.
Mothers are like that victory song after a battle...while fathers are the soldiers who fought tirelessly for the victory song to be sung. It is great to sing victory songs after a battle but it is quite unfair if the story of the battle is narrated without making mention of the efforts behind it all. This is not meant to be a 'love your daddy more' piece, neither is it a 'battle of who did it better', it more like a neon sign on life's road instructing us all to please look both ways before crossing.
I don't know what your story is or may be but one thing I know for a fact is that it takes 'two' to make ‘you’. So please, the next time you hear a poem or song about mothers, feel free to rephrase the lines...sing it in a way that puts a smile on your 'daddy's child' face without feeling guilty...'he' deserves every bit of it ;-)
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