Despite being a wonderful father in all other respects, my husband has a blind spot when it comes to dressing my daughter and getting her ready to go somewhere. He claims that it is difficult. He claims that he has no idea how to put her hair in a simple ponytail. And, if recent events are any indication, he seems to think that pants are up for debate.
As for picking an outfit, I have two main drawers for her clothing. One has shirts, and the other, shockingly, has bottoms. Many of them are coordinating outfits, but in a pinch, is it really that hard to look at two items of clothing and see if they match in coloring? The way he talks about it, it is indeed rocket science to pick out matching and weather-appropriate clothing.
He also refuses to attempt to comb her hair (which is fine and long) and make any attempt at putting it into even the simplest of styles. My God man, it is 2013, there are entire websites created to teach people how to do hair! You could watch hours and hours of video in order to prep yourself. I won't lie, it takes some practice to get it right, but you HAVE TO START practicing in order to get anywhere.
Our son attends an acting class on Saturdays, and recently I was the one who took him. It is somewhat far away, and there isn't really any point to coming home after dropping him off, you would just be basically turning around and leaving again to pick him up.
So, I am sitting in the parking lot, reading a book (HEAVEN) and I get a text that Hubba-hubba is currently at the library with our daughter. Immediately, my mind jumps to what she was wearing when I left the house, which was a sort of babydoll tank top. It is a shirt, not a dress, and technically does not completely cover her bum. Especially if she moves. Which she does. A lot.
I don't remember the exact wording of my text, but it went something like "OH GOD, PLEASE TELL ME YOU PUT SHORTS ON HER BEFORE YOU LEFT THE HOUSE."
The reply was something like, "Uh, no."
Fierce cursing began emanating from my mouth, and it was a good thing I was ten miles or so away from home.
I told him that it was completely inappropriate for her to be wearing that shirt as what he thought was a dress, and how in the world could he think of taking her out of the house when the world could so very clearly see her behind?
In short, I was patronizingly told that I was "stressing about the little things" and needed to chill out.
It turns out that I did not, as instructed, chill out, and promptly yelled at him when I got home.
I was venting my frustration to a dear friend of mine, and she very much jokingly said, "You know you've married down when pants are considered optional."
I think that sums it up nicely, does it not? I DARE someone to defend him.