One thing I will say about having twins, you instantly achieve the status of rock star. I realized this during our recent tour through the midwest, but the swagger faded fast. The first few days I felt like Axl Rose, and by the weeks end I fully understood that I was simply driving the bus. I didn't have it quite as bad as my poor wife, Kristin, who felt like the glorified milk lady. You would have thought the two little punks in the backseat saved the planet or something. And this show-and-tell game hasn't subsided now that we have settled into a routine back in Colorado.
Nothing ever happens fast, and I'm sure this new way of life is going to stick around awhile. Forget about loading and unloading, visiting any public place is always an ordeal and I don't mean that in a negative way. For instance, I was at the bank the other day and had all three tellers (female) rush from around the counter to stare and ask questions. Sure I'll play, but I'm not so sure the guy behind me cares as much about the fellas. The women could poke at the twins all day long, while a guy might check out the stuctural integrity of the stroller.
The gender issues can be pretty funny. Three times now ladies have said to me, "oh it sure is nice to see a dad who isn't afraid to take the kids out of the house." What the heck does that even mean? First off, just because I run daddy daycare doesn't mean I've joined the Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants Club, or whatever the secret society is called. I mean, shouldn't you say that to the lady over yonder? I'm standing right here.
Is this true? Are we men a bunch of Homers that stay in our caves, plop the babies down in front of Sportscenter, scratching ourselves while wondering what happened to all the Pabst Blue Ribbon? Or maybe we do like to leave our caves for hunting and other important reasons. Could it be, that ladies pack a diaper bag and bottle of wine before calling a few close friends, every time they run out of yarn? Hmmmm. I think we had better leave this one alone. Lets move on to gender issues behind the wheel!
Nothing ever happens fast, and I'm sure this new way of life is going to stick around awhile. Forget about loading and unloading, visiting any public place is always an ordeal and I don't mean that in a negative way. For instance, I was at the bank the other day and had all three tellers (female) rush from around the counter to stare and ask questions. Sure I'll play, but I'm not so sure the guy behind me cares as much about the fellas. The women could poke at the twins all day long, while a guy might check out the stuctural integrity of the stroller.
The gender issues can be pretty funny. Three times now ladies have said to me, "oh it sure is nice to see a dad who isn't afraid to take the kids out of the house." What the heck does that even mean? First off, just because I run daddy daycare doesn't mean I've joined the Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants Club, or whatever the secret society is called. I mean, shouldn't you say that to the lady over yonder? I'm standing right here.
Is this true? Are we men a bunch of Homers that stay in our caves, plop the babies down in front of Sportscenter, scratching ourselves while wondering what happened to all the Pabst Blue Ribbon? Or maybe we do like to leave our caves for hunting and other important reasons. Could it be, that ladies pack a diaper bag and bottle of wine before calling a few close friends, every time they run out of yarn? Hmmmm. I think we had better leave this one alone. Lets move on to gender issues behind the wheel!
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