"Lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch"
Since you asked, here's what I want to know about Gender Equity: Why is it that Dad's the one that's constantly screwed over when it comes to the kids' school projects?
Case-in-point, this morning the Social Media reminded me that exactly two years ago, the middle kid announced -- at around 9:00 p.m. -- that his catapult project was due the next day and that "we" hadn't started it yet.
Off "we" went to the garage, where I used 60,000 tools and the equivalent of a tornado aftermath-worth of scraps to build a tiny catapult that would launch a wood block precisely 5 feet (only to discover the next day the assignment was to have it shoot 3 meters which is Canadian-ese for about 10 feet).
Fast forward to two weeks ago where I overhear a Mom voice in the kitchen whispering "you should probably ask Dad" followed by the little one appearing and begging my help to....you guessed it....build another catapult.
"When is it due?"
"Two weeks," she says.
(Can you guess who's the reigning "favorite child" this week?)
After I came to from the shock of Advanced Notice, I actually almost weaseled my way out of this one since we were spending the weekend at the grandparents' house, complete with Papa Ed who actually knows how to build stuff, and loves to do it.
True to form, we returned home the night before the due date with a slightly less claptrap catapult than I would have built, with some actual engineering thought.
But also true to form, as Dad is settling into the couch cushion to watch the hockey game, the little one bounces in and says, "Dad, the catapult broke, can 'we' fix it?" (eyelashes bat-batting, cute smile forming).
"What? Already?? Alright."
Back to the garage, shades of 2015. Engineering ineptitude....tools, pieces and parts flying around, miles of electrical tape, and some late-night tears and sweat....and again, "we" have a working catapult that flings a small wood block its prescribed metric distance without killing anyone.
Here's where the Gender Equity piece comes in. How come Mom always claims the colorful "tri-fold" projects where you just have to glue construction paper together and show the important moments of the Chicago Cubs World Series drought while I get saddled with stuff like precision catapults and replicas of landmarks, and constructing a 50% scale, functioning, nuclear-class aircraft carrier complete with sailors and airplanes flying off the deck start-to-finish in 10 hours?!?
I want a recount. I think I'm getting jobbed here.