The Gay Uncle is on the road this month. First stop, L.A.! It”s much more difficult to catch a glimpse of parents in Los Angeles (as compared to G.U.’s home town of New York) because there is no one out there pushing strollers and acting stupid right on the sidewalk. In fact, there is often no one on the sidewalk at all. Or no sidewalks. And people look at you funny if you pull up alongside them in your rental car and try to get them to roll down their windows so you can hear the dumb or cruel things they”re shouting at their kids in the back seat. Luckily, Gunc knows a bunch of folks out here, who invite him into their homes to allow for unwitting observation. Best of all, his friends (and perpetual parental whipping posts) Kate and Dylan have transplanted themselves to the west coast. They seem much happier here, with plenty of space for the kids to run around in. But, since everyone’s private insanities reside in their brain, we all take our craziness with us wherever we go.
The Gay Uncle was over at K&D’s house one evening before bed, and he and Kate were having a drink and catching up. She and her husband are commendably great about sharing parenting duties””taking turns waking up with the kids every other morning, and winding them down each evening””but after Dylan had fed, bathed, and pajamaed their children, their son Max came out to ask his mother to read him his bedtime stories. Kate was curled up comfortably on the corner of the couch, and had been telling G.U. about their day at the beach, and when the boy pleaded for a book, she shook her head. “Mommy”s tired,”¯ she told him. The Gay Uncle thought she was going to try for a parental bait-and-switch, telling the kid to ask his daddy, and sloughing off the responsibility on her husband””a tactic which G.U. derides, mainly for its creation of problematic power patterns: shades of Wait until your father gets home! But instead, Kate went off in another direction. “Didn”t I take you to the beach today?”¯ she asked. “Didn”t I get you potato chips and ice cream?”¯ The boy nodded. “Then isn”t it time for you to do this one thing for me?”¯
The Uncle was stunned. (As was Max.) Not only was Kate trying to use her parental responsibilities of providing food and fun (and everything else) for her child as an ex-post-facto bargaining chip, where clearly no previous deal/reward structure had been made. But she was using it to try to get out of READING TO HER SON, something he clearly couldn”t do on his own, and something that has been scientifically proven to be one of the most beneficial practices one can engage in as a parent. The boy squinted at her, confused by this tactic. But, clearly used to such deflection, he turned and padded back down the hall. “Dad-dy,”¯ he called. “Can you read me some books?”¯