The kids used to call me Dad. Who is this 'Mom' they speak of?

I feel that I am losing my pants-wearing status of the family.  Most recently, Kenny has been doing all of the man-jobs, leaving me to wonder what it is that I’m suppose to do.  He mows the lawn.  He does almost all of the household repairs.  He even cleans the gutters.  Occasionally, the kids let me cook for them and once every month I get to read the meter.  This is what my life has become. 

I decided to build the kids a tree house back in the woods just to prove that I could do it.  I pulled out the wheelbarrow and it had a flat tire.  I went to air it up and got so excited about the two-story tree house I was building up in my mind that I mis-stepped and tripped over the wheelbarrow.  I landed on my own leg.  Pain is more painful the older you get; that much I know for sure. 

I limped my way through airing up the tire then gimped it back down to the pile of boards behind our shed.  I began filling the barrow with the straightest boards I could find.  On the fourth one, my attention again drifted to the magnificent house I was about to create and somehow or other, I smacked myself across the face with a two by four.  My left-face was throbbing, but I was not giving up just yet.

Once the wheelbarrow was loaded as full as I could get it, I began to push.  But I filled it too full and could barely move it.  And I had about a quarter-mile of rough terrain to get through.  I made it maybe a quarter-block before sweat was pouring down my face and my forehead-veins were popping out.  Then and there, I abandoned my tree house dreams to return to the air conditioned house to lie on the couch.

When Kenny got home from work, he asked what I had done today.  I told him, “I aired up the tire on the wheelbarrow.”

He was quite proud of me.

I guess being ‘Mom’ isn’t so bad after all.