I am not the fun parent

I am not the fun parent, although I really am funny and fun ( can you put those two words together?)  .

No my husband gets to be the fun parent. He is carefree and childlike himself in a way, so he can truly enjoy and delight in all those infantile wondrous things that I seem to have lost somehow along the way.

I am the strict parent, the parent who runs on a schedule, calls bed time, toothbrushing and is orderly and expects chores and help around the house.

I am not the fun parent, I don’t play the video games, watch the cartoons, or play animal crossing on the DS, I write serious plays (some are funny) a blog, do voice overs when employed and make sure that I am occupied, as well as responsibly raising my child and stepchildren.

My son comes to me for comfort but goes to my husband for the fun stuff.  We do laugh by the way, we do have our little jokes and our moments of fun, but I am always inquiring as to what he might be thinking or feeling.  I ask the embarrassing questions such as; “Did you make a friend at camp today?”  In that moment he turns to my husband with a twinkle in his eye and continues to relish in the fundom that his father is always there to provide.

When I ask him to make his bed and my husband is in the room, my husband  will sneakily make it behind my back and  whenever I catch him doing it,  they will laugh together at the sheer frivolity of it all.

I am not the fun parent, I probably never shall be, because let’s face it somebody has to do all the dirty work.

 

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