I write a lot of things in a lot of different places. And because I write a lot of things in a lot of different places, I “meet” so many….let’s call them “interesting” people. Sometimes they leave an online comment on my work. Sometimes they send me direct messages to my email (I stopped publishing my email because of it, but some people know how to get around the controls, apparently). Sometimes they go so far as to mail their letter to my PO box. Those are my favorites—shows some initiative, contacting me like that.
Sometimes this communication from readers is lovely. Sometimes not so much.
But if I’ve learned anything about living a parenting life with humor in the nine years I’ve been attempting, I know that when trolls hand you lemons, you squirt lemonade back in their face.
So here’s some of those lemons (all typos left purposefully in place) and my backwashed lemonade.
“I know I’m just another asshole dude telling women what to do, but we don’t get pregnant. Paraphrasing Smokey the Bear, ‘only you can prevent pregnancy.’”
—A-hole Dude
Dear A-hole Dude: The only true thing you said in your comment was the naming of yourself. And I have to give you credit: Another Asshole Dude Telling Women What to Do is actually a pretty accurate name.
Without going into all the details I was fortunate enough to learn in fifth grade (I guess not all schools had the resources to educate their students about the finer points of conception), I will simply explain to you that in order to result in a viable pregnancy, a woman’s egg needs sperm. A woman does not produce sperm herself, which logically proves that she is not the only one who can prevent pregnancy.
Who produces sperm, you might be wondering? You do. In your testicles, where it then is delivered to a woman’s vagina (and perhaps to a waiting egg) through the penis. So you should keep it in your pants, because you, my dear, are sadly misinformed about who has the power to prevent pregnancy. You have just as much responsibility as your lucky woman does.
Paraphrasing Michael Crichton: “Life is hard, but it’s harder if you’re stupid an asshole dude.”
“Quit having babies. Please. Now. Good gawd.”
“Both EO Wilson and The Dalai Lama have called for smaller families as the only way to stave off the ills that beset our planet, our species, other species.”
“I always wonder why people think their DNA is so special that they need to overbreed.”
—Slightly Misinformed
Dear Slightly Misinformed: I wasn’t aware that having smaller families was the only way to “stave off the ills that beset our planet, our species, other species.” As someone who is very interested in conservation and environmentalism, I guess I mistakenly thought that things like conserving water, riding bikes instead of driving cars, eating organically grown whole foods rather than packaged ones, boycotting plastic, and reducing our reliance on oil (among many other things) would make a big difference.
I guess my seven years of study are worth pretty much nothing. I should have spent that time preventing pregnancy.
As for my DNA, it is really special. I’m a millennial, which means, by default, I think I’m very special, which means I think, also by default, that society could benefit from my passing along my very special DNA to as many people as possible. I’ve done the world a huge favor.
You’re welcome.
“Women want equality in the household until it’s time to rotate the tires, or change some wheel hubs, or clear the property of winter refuse.
“I have no problem doing laundry or dishes or helping out with any other household chores but don’t act like your everyday housewife is going to install a floor or change a transmission.
“And good for you if you can afford to have all the everyday logistics taken care of [with a “cleaning lady, a landscaper, great mechanics and tradesmen”], for some of us, assuming gender roles is necessary.
“(I say this as I am playing outside with my kids, while cooking dinner for them, while my wife works.)”
—Assuming Lots
Dear Assuming Lots: Let’s review some of your assumptions:
1. A woman can’t lay down a floor. (As a matter of fact, one of the first things Husband and I did when we moved into our current house was rip up the kitchen floor and lay down a new one. And, yes, I helped. And, yes, it’s still in tact. And, yes, we fought the whole time.)
2. A man can always fix a car. (We have a mechanic on speed dial because Husband doesn’t always know how to fix a car.)
3. I have “a cleaning lady, a landscaper, great mechanics and tradesmen supporting” me. (I have one out of the three. I’ll give you a hint: She fixes cars.)
You might want to reassess your gender assumptions and intrinsic biases while playing outside with your kids, while cooking dinner for them, while your wife works.
“[A dad being a parent] is exceptional if most people don’t do it. That’s the definition of ‘exceptional’. When it will be common practice, it won’t be exceptional. But while we are at a time with the social stigma of men not expecting to look after the kids, if a man chooses to be different, he is exceptional.”
—Arguing Semantics
Dear Arguing Semantics: Thank you so much for cluing me in to what exceptional means. I guess I’ve been operating under a false definition of that word for my entire life! It’s such a relief to set it straight and finally be able to use it correctly in my essays.
Which I see I’ve done.
A dad being a dad is not exceptional. It is, as I stated in my essay, being a dad. If we are lifting men up as exceptional for being a dad to their kids, then all the dads who aren’t being dads feel like they’ve been let off the hook. The standard, you see, is not being a dad.
Maybe I’m in the minority, but I’m not interested in granting that kind of leniency. I’m interested in celebrating the many benefits that involved and supportive dads bring to our society. I’m interested in changing the social expectations that have historically been heaped on moms and excused from dads. I’m interested in dads being what they signed up for when they contributed one-half of the chromosomes their children have: a dad.
The end.
“What type of jobs do they have that allows them both to be home at lunchtime to take care of daily duties, and still care for and feed a family of 8.”
—Nosy
Dear Nosy: Wouldn’t you like to know.
“I stopped reading at ‘he knows I’m a better mother because of my work.’ Bull. If you want to work, then work. But stop with the bogus lines to justify it. Funny how you never hear men use that line.”
—Calling Bull
Dear Calling Bull: I honestly didn’t realize that humanity was so far advanced that we could read minds. You are one special person; I bet, after posting this mind-reading observation, you’ll be inundated with requests for your exceptional powers.
I can hardly contain my curiosity now: When you look into my mind and heart, what do you see? Am I happier because I work? Am I not? Does being happier make me a better mom? Does it not? I would really, really, really like to know what you think.
Actually, I wouldn’t. Because here’s the thing: When I say I’m a better mother because I work, I mean it. I’m a better mother because I work. If you don’t like that answer, then it’s your problem, not mine.
Writing happens to be how I take care of myself, which is something every parent should do. I’m just lucky enough to be able to call writing my work. When I work—when I write—I feel more relaxed and happier. Feeling more relaxed and happier makes me a better mother. Therefore, my logical mind, which was honed in Mrs. Allen’s calculus classroom, says that taking care of myself by writing (my work) makes me a better mother. This breaks down even more simply into the following equation:
Me + work = Better mom.
Logic is pretty amazing when you use it. You should take it out for a spin once in a while.
“This lady and her husband need to stop having kids. Who needs 6 children? Lets keep having articles like this to encourage irresponsible breeding.”
—Totally Got the Point
Dear Totally Got the Point: Yes. My essay really was about irresponsible breeding. I’m glad you could see through the rhetoric.
Thanks for reading so closely.
“Maybe stop sh*****g out kids like a cockroach and you wouldn’t need so much help. F*****g breeders.”
—Potty Mouth
Dear Potty Mouth: Essays wouldn’t be essays without a visit from you and your friends, so thank you for stopping by.
I prefer to think of myself as a bunny, rather than a cockroach. My kids are much cuter than cockroaches, and, frankly, I’m much hotter than a nasty little bug (according to Husband, who is the father of—yes—all six of my children).
So let’s amend your statement to be a little less…prickly:
“Maybe stop popping out kids like a bunny and you wouldn’t need so much help. Cute little breeders.”
There we go. Sounds much better.
“Do they need condoms? Ill get them a case of like 100 if it’ll help”
—Family Planning Expert
Dear Family Planning Expert: Thank you for thinking of us. You can send your case to:
35 Mind Your Own Business St.
Trojan, XL 40589
“I can literally smell the menstruation all over this article and comment section! I bet your cycles have all synced up at this point.”
—Woman Wannabe
Dear Woman Wannabe: I’m sorry you can’t be a woman. You are really missing out, let me tell you. Blood shooting violently from your lady parts, cramps doubling you over in your bed, kids asking you if you’re dying, because, after sixteen years of menstruating you still haven’t mastered the art of removing a tampon without getting something on your hands.
If you need to talk to someone about your massive jealousy, I’m sure any woman in your life would be happy to tell you what it’s like being a woman living in a man’s world. Here’s a preview of what to expect: derision from society for your body’s natural cycle of ovulation and menstruation, mood swings blamed jokingly on “that time of month,” and sarcastic, distasteful comments from men like you.
“I bet he has to plan a 7 day Disney trip just to make this chick slightly impressed and all his paychecks go straight to her bank account [laugh emoji]. She sounds like he HAS to do the sh*t because he a parent… No b***h he’s CHOOSIN to be that helpful and supportive regardless of whether he’s a parent or not…It’s definitely his choice to be a great parent and not just be there.”
—I Know Everything
Dear I Know Everything: Man, it feels good to have all my secrets uncovered. I’m only slightly impressed by the Disney trip, and I control the bank account. If Husband asks me for a little extra spending money, the answer is almost always no (I need my new shoes, after all; what’s he gonna buy?). I leave him an endless list of chores to do after he finishes his day of work: wash the dishes, cook dinner, sweep the floor, put the kids to bed.
You might wonder what I’m doing while he’s taking care of, well, pretty much everything. Or maybe you already know what I’m doing, because you’re so smart.
That’s right. I’m sitting on the couch, nagging him, complaining about how he’s not doing a single thing right.
Sure is good to be a woman.
As always, thank you for stopping by. If you ever feel the urge to send me your thoughts and opinions about my parenting and kid-count, feel free to email me at idontcare@babymakingfactory.com.
I always love hearing from my fans.
This is an excerpt from Hills I’ll Probably Lie Down On, the fourth book in the Crash Test Parents series. To get access to some all-new, never-before-published humor essays in two hilarious Crash Test Parents guides, visit the Crash Test Parents Reader Library page.
(Photo by David Solce on Unsplash)
