When other men find out that I’m a stay at home dad, I usually see a certain look in their eyes. It’s not exactly pity—but it’s a close relative. They’re thinking “Geez, I wouldn’t want to do that.” I can see the wheels spinning in their heads, thinking about how they would do in the same situation. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, I usually get the same question.
“What’s the worst part?” they ask.
I have a stock answer to that question, and it always surprises them. They think I’m joking. They don’t understand the magnitude of the problem; but it’s something I face every single day. I don’t care if it sounds benign and harmless; it’s the bane of my existence.
My answer is this: Crafts.
I hate crafts. No, I mean it. I really, really, really hate crafts.
If you’re the parent of young children, you know what I’m talking about. You have to do crafts all the time. It starts during the first 'mom and tot' class at the park district (don’t look at me that way). As soon as you walk in the door, the teacher hands you some construction paper, a few crayons, scissors, and a cotton ball and says: “Today we’re making snowmen!”And it hasn’t stopped yet. Pre-school? Forget about it. Ghosts, goblins, thanksgiving turkeys, snowmen and snowflakes. Kindergarten? Leaves, Indians, Valentine hearts, shamrocks, and mother’s day cards. And of course, many, many more snowmen and snowflakes.
It never stops. First grade, second grade, third grade, fourth grade. Crafts, crafts, crafts, crafts. Is it time for the science fair? Great! Load up on supplies and start cutting, and drawing and painting. Get some markers and paint brushes and construction paper and cardboard and scissors and glue and silly putty and play-doh and yarn. And it’s not just school. The after school extra curricular activities are no respite from crafts. Cub Scouts is the granddaddy of them all, especially when it’s Pinewood Derby time. That’s more than a craft--you have to make a wooden car; with weights and decals and paint and aerodynamics. Religious Education is no escape from crafts, either. Every year at Easter time, you can bet we’ll be making a cross. Shouldn’t we be allowed to resurrect last year’s cross? Don’t look at me that way. It’s thematically appropriate.
Crafts are not confined to the school year, either. This is a year round phenomenon. I almost had a seizure when I got the summer school brochure last year. One of the classes offered in every age group? “Crafts for Kids.” If it’s a new day, it’s a new craft. Here’s a big blob of clay and some shellac. Make a duck. Here’s a pinecone and a jar of peanut butter. Make a lure for squirrels. Here’s a stick, a leaf, a blade of grass, a jar of Elmer’s glue and a tongue depressor. Make Benjamin Franklin discovering electricity.
Make it yourself. I’ll pay you $20.
Crafts are a stealth weapon. They certainly weren’t in the parenting brochure. The brochure itself was a little scary, but I think I’ve got a handle on most of those jobs. I’ve got no problem with cooking. I’m not very good at cleaning, but I understand the need for it. Helping with homework is fine; it’s part of the job. Counseling and advising the boys, car-pooling, soccer practice, field trips, and play dates are fine.
But...oh...how...I...hate...crafts.
(Exhale)
There, I feel better. Sometimes you just need to vent.
Now if you’ll kindly excuse me, I’m looking for a carrot, three jelly beans, a baggie full of mini M&Ms and a quarter. My son and I have to make George Washington crossing the Delaware.
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