Originally intending to catch up on some feeds this bright Sunday morning, I stumbled over the latest Brainpickings article and it hit a nerve. More than one actually. It’s a post about the letters written by Sherwood Anderson to his son in 1927. Published in a book, Posterity, Letters of Great Amercians to their Children, I glanced at the excerpts in my usual skim reading way and the horse I was riding pulled up sharply.
Tag: parenting
Beggar in the coffee shop
“Hi guys. Sorry to bother you. I am not begging. Just trying to make a living.” and so the story starts. It’s like that spam message that says it’s not spam. The moment you see that line, you just know that it is. “You see. I bought this [sic] sunglasses yesterday for R99 ($11) and someone stole my money at the shelter last night.” He looks around furtively as the smell wafts over you. In some cultures, it may have been quite delicate, that unmistakeable blend of body odour, piss and 99% proof vomit. In mine, the sledgehammer bashes against the side of my head and I see stars until a heroic breeze bats it aside. His face bears the scars of too many days in the sun, the blistering remnants of some wino cage match long since obliterated by methylated spirits filtered through a loaf of white bread. He leans in. “Please,” and another bash pushes you back in your chair till you feel the buttons in the formerly comfortable cushion dig into your spine. Fight or flight time, bile rises and so does your anger. Seeing rage replace the distaste on your face, he makes a well practised retreat, “I can see I am bothering you. Sorry.” and off he goes to accost the polite young thing in the corner who has not yet developed the required rhino hide, scowl and cynical view on the world. Oh come on, wake up girl, don’t open your wallet. Damn.
Being a stay-at-home Dad
I know what you are thinking. You are wrong. Very wrong.
Take it from me. I have done both and the idea of being a stay-at-home Dad is nothing like the reality.
Sure, you get to be with your kids – something most Dads never get the opportunity to do and something I can never be more thankful for. Sure, you can sit in a coffee shop at 10am and read a good book (why would you read a bad one?). Sure you can <insert whatever you dream of doing here>. But then reality strikes and the true role of a stay-at-home dad materialises and takes aim at the back of your head with a baseball bat.
Lance Phillips 