Father Knows Least?! By Charlie Savenor

 Out of nowhere, another passenger tapped the jovial father on the shoulder and demanded, “Can you keep it down, sir? I want this to be a relaxing flight, and your family is making too much noise.” The father’s first reaction was to be as friendly as New York Jets coach Rex Ryan, recently fined $75,000 for some choice words to a critical fan. “No, lady. We are not making noise, so we will not keep out voices down.”Their exchange only got more heated from there. I watched the whole thing with some degree of disbelief. Their lack of civility was like in-flight reality TV without the benefit of a remote control’s on/off button. Thankfully the wife calmed down her husband, who responded in a more balanced way to the other passenger, and everyone agreed to be respectful during the remainder of the flight. However, one image stood out for me.

Before sitting back, the noise-averse woman gave the father a certain look.

I know that look. Just five years earlier that look was directed at me, when our son was crying mid-flight.

 Julie, Joseph and I were on a packed flight to Florida. Immediately after takeoff Joseph began crying loudly. It is not unusual for kids to shed a few tears on a trip by any mode of transportation. Since Joseph was crying for “Mommy”, I had full confidence that the situation would be resolved swiftly. I offered my support and assistance, but it was clear that Joseph was in good hands. As Julie tended to Joseph in the window seat – ie two seats away, I tuned out the tears and read “Sports Illustrated” while drinking Diet Coke with a lemon twist.

 All of a sudden, a woman behind us tapped Julie on the shoulder and declared loudly, “It’s your husband’s fault.”

My first thought was this most be some sort of joke.

 ”Your husband should be handling this situation, but, look at him. He’s doing nothing.”

 But this wasn’t a joke. She was serious.

 Then a deluge of venom ensued: “Fathers are useless. They don’t take responsibility for their children.” This person was so nasty and angry, she could have been the mayor of Mean-ville. “All men do is make babies, and then they do absolutely nothing for their care. Nothing!” As her muttering continued it became clear that her comments were not directed solely at me. Julie and I tried to be polite while quieting Joseph down, but this angry passenger would not stop her verbal assault on me and all other dads worldwide. “Useless, irresponsible,…”

Why did this misanthropic person blame me, the father? I may have been little lax at that moment, but I don’t think it warranted a blanket dismissal of fathers everywhere.

 Sometimes when we travel as a family, I reflect on this uncomfortable episode. This recent case of deja vu actually made me relive this whole nasty encounter. In my internally filing system, this unpleasant in-flight social turbulence is not categorized under civility in travel – or road-rage without the road; but rather as an entry in the ongoing discussion about fathers and fatherhood.

 It appears that the halcyon days of “Father Knows Best” are over, but have we really come to “Father Knows Least”?

Is she right? Is today’s father useless?

I don’t think so. In my view, fathers today are more active than previous generations. We do our share of household chores, homework review and sports coaching. While our household responsibilities may not be evenly split, my dishpan hands reflect a new domestic reality. Can you imagine Don Draper or even Mike Brady changing a diaper?

Granted every family divides the workload differently, I am honestly not sure that a 50/50 split is realistic or possible. Even in the age of flexible hours, moms and dads have different roles, sometimes defined by scheduling, gender or personality. Julie cooks, and I do the dishes. Julie handles bath time, and I get the boys dressed for bed, as long as I am home that early from work. But shlepping luggage, taking out the trash and sledding, that’s all me. Equal? I don’t think so, but the system seems to be working for us. (Note to self: Ask Julie about this.)

Here’s a question to consider: when your kids cry, for whom do they ask? My informal polling shows “Mommy” most of the time.

Most importantly, it appears that this generation of fathers and mother understands that quality time doesn’t just mean occupying the same room while playing on separate iPads. We both make an effort to read to our kids, to prioritize time for family vacations and to be home for dinner.

The truth is being a parent is hard work. Sometimes we just do what’s needed to move the ball down the field.

A few weeks ago when Julie left early for work, I was responsible for breakfast. That morning while Joseph enjoyed his toast, Benjy had no interest in eggs, pancakes or, even their favorite food-group, cereal. His willfulness wouldn’t budge as he declared his desired morning meal.

“Cookies.” He exclaimed with tears rolling down his cheeks. ”Cookies?” I replied. “But Benjy, cookies are a treat. Not a meal. Please, how about some eggs?” I was really glad that Julie had made some before she left. ”Cookies!” My three year old was morphing into a Cookie Monster right before my eyes.

Ok, Ok. He got his cookies.

A few minutes later our nanny walked in. She gasped when she found Benjy with a mouth full of cookies and his hand in an open box grasping for more.

“Benjy, who gave you cookies for breakfast?” The question lingered in the air for a moment. In my heart of hearts, I was hoping Benjy would explain how he won a test of wills.

With a mouth too stuffed to speak, my baby slowly raised his arm and pointed at me. Et tu, Benjy? Just like that, our three year old threw me under the school bus.

Sheepishly, I shrugged and peeked up at our nanny. And there it was again, that familiar “Father Knows Least” look.