David had just given our daughter medication to help her deal with a cold, and, quite abruptly, she announced that he was “more like the mom” and I was “the dad.” Wait, what? How can our kids (of all people!) be hypnotized by the rigid gender dichotomy that our family undermines by our very existence?
It’s not even as though we follow roles that break down in quite the way of “traditional” mom/dad couples. My job’s hours are pretty flexible, so I have lots of time to spend with the family. I do my share of the laundry and generally clean up after dinner. David does the cooking. And when it comes to caring for them when they’re sick—which, after all, triggered the mom/dad comment—it’s a pretty even deal.
I admit the home workload isn’t strictly a 50/50 proposition. David’s design business is part-time at this point, and he does more around the house than I do. But our roles are flexible and nongendered enough that calling us Mom and Dad is just weird.
It’s also true that our neighborhood is very gender-progressive. Our next door neighbors both work full-time, but the dad’s home a lot more, does more than half the cooking, and is forever busy around the house. On the next block is a dad who mainly works from home while mom goes off to her full-time engineering job. Another mom is a high-level nurse practitioner whose husband is an ice sculptor. And so on. In sum, there is no shortage of gender-role busting all around us. Why isn’t all that enough to steer our kids away from such reductive ways of thinking?
Because even those important, living examples of role flexibility are still overwhelmed by the morass of gender traditionalism swirling around them.
The stories I could tell of frenzied bachelor parties, exotic dancers jumping out of cakes. Sounds exciting? Sure, but around midnight, there you are frustrated and disappointed with a fake cake you can’t eat and a dancer named Candy who has to leave to drive her babysitter home.
Bucky is the Ultimate Dad™ after he gets over his anxiety about having a kid w/ Sam. Like he wears action baby carriers and totes around his child’s rubber ducky diaper bag with PRIDE. Half of the damn bag is full of fruit snacks because he’s weak and he spoils his kid. He does background checks on all daycare staff when he thinks Sam’s not paying attention, and pays stupid amounts of money (all coming from Bucky’s pocket, since Sam knows his husband is being extra as usual) to make sure his kid gets the very best.
He learns how to style and manage kinky hair because he refuses to be that one white parent who always has their child’s ethnic hair looking a hot mess. Like one day, before the child is even born, Sam finds Bucky hunched over the computer at 3AM, eyes bloodshot, watching black hair care tutorials on YouTube.
“Bucky what the hell are you doing, man?”
“Our child’s hair is not gonna’ be dry, Sam. I promise. I swear to god. Put that on my momma’.”
And Sam just kinda’ closes the door and heads back to bed because he’s far too tired for any conversation with right now.
Request: “Love your writing!! Can you write a Shawn imagine about him being nervous about meeting your family for the first time and he ends up feeling sick the whole way there but you tell him to just relax and it’s just nerves but once you get there later that night he just continues to feel worse and worse and ends up falling really ill and you feel bad for him and take care of him?? And maybe he’s embarrassed about being sick at your parents house??“
Pairing: Shawn Mendes x reader/female character Rating: General audience Words: 1353
John Mayer is playing softly on the radio as they speed past the trees on the side of the highway. Shawn buttons and unbuttons the top button of his shirt in the side view mirror for what feels like the hundredth time. They’re getting closer to her parents’ house and he can feel his stomach turn at the thought of standing in front of them for the first time. He looks hesitantly at the tie in his clammy palms every few seconds.
“Do I have to wear the tie?” he groans. “I feel like I’m already in danger of asphyxiation with this shirt collar.”
“If I have to wear this dress, you have to wear that tie,” she says, eyeing the piece of silk in his lap. “Besides, it was your idea.” She receives nothing but a pitiful expression in response. “Fine,” she gives in. “But you’re helping me out of this damn thing when we get back home.” She rolls her eyes when she sees the smug smile on his face. “Not like that! This dress is tight as hell and I’m going to need help taking it off.”
“Oh, so no sex?” Shawn smirks at her. She smiles and shakes her head as she puts on the blinker and turns onto a smaller road.
when he was seven, he was out at the beach with Yasmin. She and him were just sitting just ankle-deep in the water whilst their dad dove to collect some nice rocks for their aquarium. They were just getting ready for a swim when something stuck on Yasmin’s leg. It was weird, and soft, and sticky, and colorful. Malek’s eyes grew really round, because he’s never seen anything like it. Yasmin peeled it off, and it crawled and wriggled on her palm; She went to show Malek, and he was even more amused to discover that the thing was alive. He ended up researching, to discover that it was a chromodoris, or a very colorful seaslug. He went on to research more, he was very fascinated with everything underwater. He learned to swim at a very early age. He likes manta rays, whales and nudibranches the best. He loves going to aquariums to study sharks and dolphins. His mom promised they’d go scuba diving together, and Malek’s always looked forward to that. He’s always promised his mom he’d be a Good Boy and get good grades so he can get to a big university and study the fishes, so I think part of why he wants to go to college so bad is because it’s something he promised his parents.