My 6-Year-Old Asked Her Teacher, ‘Can Mommy Come to Donuts with Dad Instead? She Does All the Dad Stuff Anyway’

A quiet, snowy street | Source: Midjourney

“She does all the Dad stuff anyway.”

The words echoed, a painful mantra. Because it’s true. It’s devastatingly, undeniably true.

Who taught her to change a flat tire on her scooter when no one else would? Me. Who spent hours in the backyard, patiently showing her how to catch a ball without fear? Me. Who researched and built that ridiculously complex volcano for the science fair, staying up until 2 AM? Me. Who wakes up every Saturday morning to make pancakes, then takes her to the park, then to soccer practice, then to the library? Me. Who has the tough talks about bullies, about responsibilities, about the harsh realities of the world? Me.

I’m the one who deals with the leaky faucet, the rattling car engine, the blown circuit breaker. I’m the one who works the extra shifts, who juggles the bills, who makes sure everything runs. I am the provider, the protector, the fixer, the disciplinarian, the adventurer. I am the one she turns to for strength, for solutions, for reassurance.

A woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

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