A Man's Job!

Soundtrack Selection: It's a Man's Man's Man's World by James Brown

So I have awesome parents! I need to start this post by saying that because I'm about to offer them a little constructive criticism on my upbringing, which usually results in a follow-up email from my mother about how I'm too critical and insensitive. So allow me a sentence or two to brag on them...

First of all, I have to credit them with raising me to take care of my own shit: homework, extracurriculars, responsible behavior (except that time in high school when Artie and I threw a New Year's party while they were out of town). I've done my own laundry, finished science projects and packed my own lunches since the age of nine. I can take care of myself.

But I have to say, I'm clueless when it comes to the "man jobs." That's the problem when you have a dad who can build piers, porches and roto-rooter the toilet with the help of his son and other very manly men in the neighborhood. Meanwhile, I was on cooking, knitting or shopping duty with my mother and the rest of the old birds of my family. While my brother got to cut the grass and chop trees, I had to empty the dishwasher and vacuum the den. It pissed me off at the time and now I have to live in its wake (By the way, I fully recognize that Artie would have traded with me in a heart beat...well maybe not the knitting).

Prior to their recent visit in October, I ask my dad to bring his drill because I had a couple of things I had to hang on the wall. The next day, mom told me he had a surprise for me. Guess what it was?...yep...my own drill. Now don't get me wrong, I was excited and grateful for his thoughtfulness (although I'm pretty convinced it his way of getting out of doing my chores). However, two months later I am sitting in my room staring at the drill, the picture and the wallboard anchors I bought at the local hardware store. I have no idea what to do with any of them.

I'm fully aware that my parents assumed there would be a man in my life to help me with (or to do himself) these tasks that my father so graciously (chuckle, chuckle) completed during our childhood. But alas, although I can bake 12 different types of Christmas cookies and can make a queen-sized, handmade quilt, I am grossly incapable of simple tasks such as hanging a picture on the wall. Ill-prepared is an understatement. 

So as we approach the new year, I have two resolutions: 1) To learn the man jobs. Nope, I don't feel like I'm encroaching on the male desire to feel needed. In light of the fact that a potential dating interest and I recently discussed his weekend task of perfecting a Bolognese sauce, I think his manhood is safe with me learning to operate a power drill...and 2) I think a toy tool box is in order for my 2 year old niece this Christmas (I know her savvy mother will ensure she knows how to use it by the time she's 18). 

And lastly, Mom & Dad, I may be gender-biased in my self-care abilities, but I'll still say...I think you did a pretty, damn good job with your kids...despite the sexist division of childhood labor!