Dear Administrator of the Moms Group in Our Upper-Middle-Class Town,
I know I don’t fit all of your qualifications. Namely, the mom part.
However, I implore you to overlook the minor issue of my gender and peer into my soul. My exhausted, unappreciated, and lonesome stay-at-home father soul starved for communication beyond the incessant singing of Cocomelon.
Thank you so much for inviting my wife to your weekday morning get-togethers, but again, she can’t make it—she has work. And again, I can make it, as I’ve abandoned my career (note: not in childcare) to fetch organic gummy bunnies and anticipate the needs of two toddlers every second of every day for—wait for it—no compensation.
I understand and acknowledge that women deserve a safe space far from the male gaze. A wonderful dreamland where moms feel secure to recognize each other’s dedication to their kids and make passive-aggressive comments about the childrearing tactics of whichever mom didn’t show up that day. Sheer bliss.