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The difference between Mom and Dad during the pandemic

As we all deal with our collective depression over the Covid-19 situation, our kids are reminded of the differences between Mom and Dad when they work out of the house. The first thing they notice is that old Dad is not as savvy as he used to be when building forts made from couches, chairs, and sheets. He seems to bristle and run to bathroom when he hears, “Dad the WiFi is down!” Or “I can’t log onto my school account!”

If truth be told we men begin to realize we have spent a significant amount of time acquiring what I call, “Commuting Skills.” These revolve around the important things, like knowing when to flip radio station over from NPR during one of their fundraising drives to the important local sports coverage. If we tire of that we can always hit the AM radio stations for some right leaning rant. We’ve honed our ability to know exactly which lane to be in before the customary jam up by the school zone. It’s an art.

But here we are at home with the old fam. Now back in the day I used to be a serious fort builder. Capable of building forts that could withstand a ‘level 6 sleeping bag kick fight’ during a sleep over. It included zip lines for food delivery and other important things like sending Barbie out on a candy run. She usually did not make it back and I being the man of the fort would be asked to go investigate what was happening in the kitchen. And if possible, “while I was there could I grab another Twizzler?”

The Den Fort Building Era ending early. Now it was on to figuring out how to stream everything into the house all at once. Conveniently, my oldest daughter wants to set up TikTok to demonstrate proper makeup application during all the streaming activities. So now I must become a script writer and researcher. This way other poor, sap Dads can help their daughters purchase ULTA beauty products online. I hope we go viral – I need the money.

The good news is that the 4th of July is right around the corner. My skills at lighting fireworks and yelling, “Fire in hole!” are unmatched by Mom. My time of obsolescence is ending, which reminds me to ask, “Does anyone know where Mom is and where does she keep the lighter?”