Dads Have Skills Too

I can identify the cry of my children in a heaving playground. I can not only pick which child it is, I can also tell why it's crying. The penetrating whine of, 'I'm hungry', is vastly dissimilar to the indignant wail of, 'My stupid brother just took my swing', which in turn is completely different to the heart-stopping scream of, 'My stupid brother just hit me in the head with his stupid swing and now I'm bleeeeedingggg!!!'

I have been attuned to their own idiosyncratic style of bawling since the day each clawed their way out of my horrified, protesting vadge - learning the hard way what happens when you mistake, 'I'm hungry' for 'I'm tired' and a hyper baby gushes up buckets of stomach curdled milk all over the couch

This superwoman hearing skill is what differentiates mothers from fathers. Dads can't tell which cry is which, nor do they care. They just want it to stop because the rugby is on.

But, crying aside, there are some things at which a Dad really does excel.

Dads Give Treats

My children are so deprived. They've never tasted Coke. They think raisins are lollies. They had a piece of white bread the other day and thought it was cake. I have no interest in feeding them junk food. I have seen children on junk food and they are overweight and overwrought. Dad however, has no such compunction. When he gives them juice he only waters it down by a half instead of my habitual one eighth. And the children love it. THEY LOVE IT.

Dad's Are Not OSH

All Mums are OSH. They smother their offspring in sunscreen (replacing with a fleece lined hoodie the moment the sky clouds over) and velcro sandals so tightly the baby's toes turn blue and puff out a little. A Mum's favourite things to say are, "Be careful!" and "You'll hurt yourself!" and "Oh no dear, we don't go outside when its raining. You might melt."

Dads are not OSH. They don't give a flying rats that their toddler is balanced on a box that is wobbling on a stool that is perched on the edge of a table next to a plate glass window. Their only concern is if baby will accidentally change the TV channel on the way down. Dad's favourite thing to say is... nothing.

This, annoyingly, is wonderful for children's development. Kids need to know how to move, climb, swing and jump and essentially - how not to fall. They can only do that if they're given a chance.

It certainly wasn't me who sent our two year old down a Flying Fox by himself. I have difficulty putting him on a slide. It was through sweating, interlaced fingers that I watched my precious baby flying down the wire, hair streaming back in the wind, face contorted by G forces, chubby little hands clenched white knuckled around the rusty T-bar, ("Be careful! You'll hurt yourself! It's raining!")

My little boy however, loved it. The experience helped build his confidence, improve his holding on skills, and kickstart a wonderful career as the world's first Maori Stunt Baby. All thanks to Dad.

Dad's Word Is Stronger

Mums are the disciplinarians. We tell our kids what to do and how to do it every single second of the day. Soon, for kids, that constant harping becomes dulled and all they hear is a vague yap yapping that, like tinnitus, they will learn to tune out.

Dads are too lazy to be bothered saying something more than once. And most irritating of all, 99% of the time that single order will be obeyed. This is frustrating and unfair and reasonable grounds for couch banishment, but Mums can still use this skill to their advantage merely by training Dads to say the things they want. NB. Care required. Dads also have that childlike, stubborn, wilful streak in them and your requests may also morph into a vague yap yapping that will eventually be tuned out.


I'm sure there are more skills that Dads have. I cannot think of them now however, as I must go smother my children in sunscreen before bubblewrapping their resigned bodies and placing them gently on the flat, shaded grass.