Apr
16
Over the weekend, I was persuaded to accompany a friend to a small fête attended by people I hadn’t seen in almost ten years. The get-togeth was incredibly fun; catching-up with old friends, picking up where we had last left off as if no time had passed among us.
Well, for some of us.
For some of us, not only was there time among us, but a baby too. Big, beautiful, sighing, gurgling, sleepy-eyed babies, shaken and stirred, to stay up past their bed times with the rest of us.
Throughout the eve the babies, were coddled, caressed, cooed, blown on, bobbed and twirled around in front of the childless, for amusement. The men especially held the fort with folded arms in makeshift swings for baby, moving around the party in total jubilation of their new pride and joy.
That’s when the disconnect happened. Seeing boys with babies instead of married couples with children. Seeing boys with accessories instead of new families.
Women have always had the handbag as a source of praise. Recently the carry-all got bigger (and with it, the responsibility too of lugging Lanvin as if it were light-weight and so simple to do.) But men, not so much. They’ve had their Tumi’s and their Treos, but nothing quite as big as a Birkin, which is why, I suppose, it’s their time now, and babies are it.
In this pose of baby-and-man, the wedding ring gets a rock ‘n’ roll makeover, the Clarks are replaced with Converse, and the couple thing is reduced to she, him, and “Papa’s got a brand new bag.”
I know, it sounds harsh, but I can’t help but feel that today, husbands look more like housemates, and dads, like daddy-os.
And women? They’re still carrying the bag. It’s the baggage that always seems to fall on the kids.
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