My husband is a daddy loner. The funny part is he’s part of a wolf pack that silently feels the same way, but doesn’t hangout together.
As women we all thrive on the conversation we share with our co-workers of life, our mommy friends. We look forward to playdates, bunko nights and girls night out with our mommy friends, so we can commiserate, share a laugh and talk about dumb reality shows, because they’re all we have the brainpower to watch.
Working or not, we seek out the company of other women: calling up old friends we remember have kids, looking online for groups with similar interests (basically, do you have a heartbeat and do you have kids?) or heading out to the watering hole with our single friends, once in a blue moon, for what I call the Mind Eraser.
Men are silent sufferers. You can tell they miss having “buddies”, but they don’t do anything about it. Their single friends are still going to the local dive bar and watching sports while chugging pints of IPA or playing the latest RPG all night, their headsets connecting them. Their lives are no longer in parallel. A single guy friend just doesn’t care whether your kid lost their first tooth or said something funny the other day. At least single women will listen or pretend to listen. Single buddies just aren’t interested.
Married-with-kids men don’t know the first thing about making married “buddies”. They’re used to their hometown, high school and college buddies and they don’t remember what it’s like to be “out there”. They don’t remember how to make small talk until they’re comfortable moving to the next step, having a “real” conversation about the crap that goes along with being a husband and a dad.
They never get past this conversation:
Dad #1: Hey, what’s up?
Dad #2: Not much. What’s up?
Dad #1: Not much. How about you?
Dad #2: Not much. Did you see the [insert sport team here] game?
Sports conversation lasts for about 2 minutes.
Dad #1: Cool.
Dad #2: Yeah, cool.
Both silently take a swig of their beer.
Dad #1: I’m going to get another beer. Do you want one?
Dad #2: No, I’m good, thanks.
Dad #1 never returns.
If I ask my husband whether he’s interested in having any daddy friends, he says, “I don’t care.” I think he really thinks this is true, but I know better. I’m sure he’d rather watch a college football game with a new, daddy friend, than listen to me ask what every damn play means because I don’t like football enough to ever remember anything. I’m in it for the beer and burgers.
Mothers don’t have to have similar interests to hangout. My mommy friends are all different. The ties that bind us are the stories about our families. Men, for some reason, need to have something in common.
I tell him to join a sports league of some sort with my daughter. He says he’s too busy. I tell him we’ll make time. He says he works so hard during the week that he just wants to hangout with us on the weekend. I tell him he’ll be happier, if he can find someone similar to hangout with. He says he doesn’t care.
I thought this was just my husband, until I brought up the topic with my other mommy friends. Each and every one of them sang a similar song about their husband. Why the heck don’t these guys just hangout together? I just don’t get it!