Me and Mrs Jones' Bed

It's 2 p.m., do you know where the mother of your children is? She might be hosting a play date with me and my kid.

When I was a kid, you just went into the backyards of the neighborhoods and played with your pals or future mortal enemies. It's just the social way the world worked. However in recent decades, we've come to evolve into something known as the play date. It's a more formal event with set time limits and the hint of adult supervision. Everything a kid really couldn't care about.

This play date business seems to be created for the benefit of the adults. It gives the mommies a chance to sit back, keep one eye on the kids and share a little grown up talk. There have been reports of a glass of wine instead of joining in on the juice boxes. This seems perfect for the mommies. But what about the stay at home dad? Can he really enjoy the play date?

The answer is no.

For any mother who thinks it is rude that I merely dump the kid off and immediately split, this is being done for the sake of your happy home.

What husband wants to come home after a hard day at the office to find a strange man on the sofa? He's been play dating while you've been working. This is worse than a traveling salesman. He suspects more has gone on besides childsplay.

I'm not going to lie. I have a fantasy about his wife and their bedroom. Of course the fantasy involves his wife watching my kid while I go upstairs and nap on his bed.

If the two of us wanted to have an affair, that means we'd have to hire a babysitter to watch the kids. Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose of the play date if you're forking out cash by the hour?

He hasn't a clue about the emotional and physical strain of taking care of toddler all day. He somehow thinks that I actually am a gentleman of leisure using the kid as a front for seduction. That my kid is like the Corvette his wife refuses to let him buy. Instead of being a friendly afternoon, this encounter turns into a sword fight. I can't even imagine his questions during dinner when I'm gone.

The real victim of this eventually become the kids when future playdates get blown off for various and lame reasons.

Thus I realize it is so much better to just avoid the awkward nature with a dump and run.