And Then There's Dad

Other People's Children

by Gary Drevitch

There are a lot of ways to divide parents into two. There are the nervous parents and the relaxed parents, the sporty parents and the bookish parents, the organic chefs and the junk-food facilitators—but I think one of the most telling ones is between parents who take a sincere interest in other people’s children, and those who don’t. I wish this weren’t true, but I have to confess that I’m one of the latter.

That’s not to say I don’t pay attention to my children's friends at all. The boy who could already smack a baseball over the fence at age 6? Him I noticed. The girl who spoke up so confidently at every kindergarten class show? I couldn’t miss her. Still, I can’t say I necessarily wanted to hang out with either of those kids. But other parents always seem sincerely pleased to chat or roughhouse with my son or daughter when they come over for play dates. When other kids come to my apartment, I’m happy to see them, but I mostly just hope they won’t dump all of our toys on the floor. (Again.)

Do you remember the first time another parent chatting with you in the playground told you that all of the other parents in your class had already switched to organic milk for their kids? The knot in your stomach that, on some level, you’d just missed something fundamental about parenting, and now you wondered, So what’s wrong with me? That’s how I feel when a fellow class parent tells me about a story my son told them, or something they especially admire about my daughter’s personality, or even what color eyes my gang has. I don’t think they’re telling me these things because my kids are so superior. They’re not. But I do feel bad that I have no compliment to pay them back about their own kids. Somehow, I just haven’t been paying attention.