One of My wife’s co-workers saw this in the Letters-to-the-Editor section of the paper a few days after the article about me was run on Father’s Day.

Despite all the talk with the actual reporter about “Don’t call me Mr. Mom,” I guess some editor decided to use the phrase anyhow to title a sidebar graphic about the increase of at-home dads recently.

It didn’t appear in the online version, apparently. And I didn’t get to see a print copy until a few days later, since we were out of town when it came out. But Anna and I enjoyed a nice eye-roll together when we saw it.

Which, of course, only made it appropriate that we shared an awesome high-five at “The Routly family is one step ahead of the game.”

Anyhow, nice to know I have another local supporter.

Here’s how it appeared in print:

Me with my hand on my son’s rear end.

Thanks for thinking of me on Father’s Day, Tasha. This totally cracked me up.

This has been a strange Father’s Day Week.

While the media spends most of the year rightly lamenting the plague of absent, uninvolved fathers, The Atlantic magazine took upon itself this week the opportunity to offer up articles on whether fathers are necessary at all and if we’re on the cusp of the end of men. Slate, meanwhile, offers up an exciting Boston College study which reports a huge increase in men’s participation in domestic and childcare responsibilities, and interprets it as further evidence that men are liars.

Now, to be fair, at least 2 of the 3 articles above are, on the surface, trying to put a positive spin on their attention grabbing headlines. Isn’t it great that women have come so far in a short period of time, as to be the majority of both job-holders and college graduates? And don’t you see? The silver lining to men lying about being involved dads is that not that long ago men would instead be lying about spending their evenings at the bar rather than be seen as the kind of guy who goes home from work and changes diapers!

Okay. I guess. You have to wonder a little at the timing though. I always figured Father’s Day was a chance to thank and encourage dads for what they do, not to marginalize their contributions to family and society AND call them liars. But maybe that’s just me.

Is this some sort of poorly thought out application of John Nash’s non-cooperative game theory, where they just bet against the assumption that everyone else will be running fluff pieces about good ol’ dad? Maybe. Given that it scored “The End of Men” author Hanna Rosen a spot on the Colbert Report, perhaps it worked. They’re definitely getting attention.

And I suppose it’s better than the alternatives, like MomLogic’s annual Father’s Day Week reprinting of their 10 Reasons Father Doesn’t Know Best list, or their gift guides for stinky, couch potato, lazy, and deadbeat dads.

I’m really excited about this upcoming documentary on modern fatherhood called The Evolution of Dad, from filmmaker Dana Glazer.

It’s not even so much that the film features some fellow at-home dads and spends some time talking about the phenomenon, so I can “relate” — it’s that this film really seems to be exploring the very issues of involved fatherhood that are close to my heart and I find myself more and more passionate about all the time.

With a few rare exceptions, dad-as-primary-caregiver portrayals in the media (be it movies, television or commercials) fall into two basic categories:

• The bumbling dad who is forced into caring for the kid due to the loss of a job. This is always, always played for laughs.
• The bumbling dad who is suddenly thrust into a caregiver role through the sudden absence the kid’s mother, through death or abandonment. Here it will sometimes be played as a tragic circumstance, initially, but eventually for laughs as well as the poor guy struggles with diapers and how to feed and clothe a child without getting pee’d on.

“Sitcom Dad”, as he’s known, isn’t a new phenomenon by any means, nor is it limited to at-home dads. Working dads often receive the same bumbling, know-nothing portrayal as well when it comes to doing anything domestic or child-related — with the possible exception of discipline or playing video games. We’re all familiar with the exasperated wife character whose husband is little more than a large child.