Rush Hour

November 10, 2009

By Geff Mastro

First, you need to know that I am a husband of 16 years and the proud father of four lovely little girls. Yes, that’s right. It’s just me and five women in one house.

For those of you men who already see my dilemma, please know that we do have two full bathrooms … but I’m not always allowed in. For those of you who have households with multiple women, you know that there are more important things than Dad having to use the bathroom to get ready for work … things such as putting on make-up and making sure outfits fit just right.

And don’t think for a moment that playing the trump card of “I have to get dressed; I pay the bills” makes any difference. Experience has taught me that this line can often be met with, “By the way…I need X dollars for Y Activity in school, and it’s due today.” A wise man knows that it is far better in situations like these to either get up earlier to do what one has to do, or simply keep one’s mouth closed. “Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent, and discerning if he holds his tongue” (Proverbs 17:28, NIV).

Growing up with four sisters, and now with my current family arrangement, I have observed an unfair disadvantage in being a male, related to bathroom usage. Women have the unprecedented right to enter the “sacred shrine” at any time they want, even if there is another woman in there. Men, and particularly dads, do not seem to have that same right. Their authority as head of the household ends at the closed door. It then transfers sequentially in rank, according to age, to all of the women in the house.

The former “king,” whose praises they had all sung the night before when he was buying them ice cream with his last few dollars, now falls at the end of the line. Even the 6-year-old has the authority to “kick Daddy out” if she has to “go potty.”

Lest it seem like these are the grumblings of a discontented father, let me share with you what I experienced this morning …

I arrived at work, unpacked my things and checked my e-mails. In my inbox was a charming message from our eldest child, who is now 15, on “Getting to Know Your Family and Friends in 2009.” The message was a compilation of more than 30 questions, which the recipient is to answer and then forward on, while returning a copy to the sender. I had seen things like this before and occasionally participated, though by and large I’m not a fan of anything that requires me to “forward this on to 10 people in the next 20 minutes.”

Our eldest child frequently sends us little articles or “snigglets” of information that she finds interesting. I do try to reply and at least thank her even if I won’t forward it. Normally, I would have passed over this note until later and then read through it. This morning, though, I took the time to read. Reading through her responses to this questionnaire, my heart started to beat faster and the pride within my chest began to swell and bust through my shirt. Pondering her answers to generic questions about her favorite drink, food, and season, I realized that we were very similar in a lot of our likes. My interest was piqued. Then it started to dawn on me that many of those preferences were there because I had influenced them. I had a part in developing this beautiful creature who was now responding to me in a very adult manner, sharing insights about herself and her interests.

As I read further, I began to reflect on her sense of nostalgia for symbolic and meaningful things like her favorite toy as a child, which was a stuffed elephant. This elephant, mind you, was the same one we brought to the hospital with us as our Lamaze focal point on the morning she was born.

Her comments on what she had done the night before: simply spending time with her family and loving it. And then … the pièce de résistance, the part that tugged on my heartstrings. “Who is most/least likely to respond?” Her answer to these questions? “My daddy. He’s the only one I’m sending this to.”

Could it be that this teenager who texts her friends at 11 at night and had the choice of sending this out to any number of 50 or so friends still wants to maintain a very personal and loving relationship with her father? Could it be that all of the late nights working to provide for my girls, the time invested in teaching them life lessons, and spending the last ounce of effort we could muster to help with homework and projects, even the arguments we had as we tried to shape her into a fine young lady were now paying off?

“Come, my children, listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the Lord” (Psalm 34:11).

As I am finishing this I just checked my in-box again and can see that she responded to my reply to her questions with a simple “I just wanted to tell you that I love you so much and I also had a lot of fun with you last night.”

Suddenly, the wait to get into the bathroom doesn’t seem so long.

— Geff Mastro lives in a Burlington County, N.J., and is a licensed counselor and school psychologist.