Not the Fun One.
by Risa Green
Somehow, I am no longer the fun one.
This did not happen overnight. It must have been gradual, because I only recently even became aware that it had happened. But it has. Where I used to be Mommy, the Doer of All Fun Things, I have now morphed into Mom, the One Who Drives to All Fun Things. And somehow, my husband, who used to be Daddy, That Other Parent, has now become Daddy, the Awesomest Guy In the World Who Coaches All of Our Sports Teams and Buys Us Donuts at Nine AM. Hmmm.
It kind of sucks, not being the fun one anymore. When my kids were in preschool, we would spend the afternoons together playing at the park, going to Mommy and Me classes, baking brownies or Rice Krispie treats, and making art projects together. But now that my kids are older and have stuff to do after school, I feel like I’ve become nothing more than a glorified chauffeur, chef, and personal assistant, all rolled into one. While my kids are toiling away at school, it’s become my job to buy posterboards for their projects, to make cookies (by myself) when they’re student of the week, to return their books to the library before they’re overdue, to buy them new socks because their old ones are starting to feel like sandpaper, to prepare (ok, to order) dinner so that it’s on the table when they get home from practice and they’re starving. Twice a week, I sit in the carpool line at school for half an hour, waiting to pick up my kids and three of their teammates, and twenty minutes later, after feeding them all a snack (that I had to go to the market to buy), I promptly deliver them to the soccer/basketball/softball field, where
My husband, a/k/a the Awesomest Guy In the World Who Coaches All of Our Sports Teams and Buys Us Donuts at Nine AM, is waiting in his coach’s hat and jersey, yelling about all of the FUN! they’re going to have.