The Accidental Parent

The Accidental Parent. That’s what my friend Alice calls my husband, Christopher. The Accidental Parent. And she means it in the most positive, admiring way.

As the great majority of our friends and family know, Christopher and I were both dedicated DINKS (double-income, no kids) from the time we met in 1990 until the events of 9/11/2001. Well, I take full responsibility for my dramatic shift of perspective that occurred that morning. I informed Christopher the evening of September 11th that  we needed to become a family — by having our own, adopting, or providing foster care for children. That to refrain from doing so would be too selfish. I know. It still doesn’t make much sense.

In fact, Christopher was as traumatized by my announcement as by the lives ruined by the attacks on the World Trade Centers. “It’s a deal breaker!” he cried. “We have a contract!” he insisted: “NO KIDS!” By December of 2001, though, he was singing my tune, thinking that our children would benefit from knowing our family and friends, people who worked in all kinds of fields, lived all over the world, and enjoyed all sorts of circumstances.

Neither of us could have anticipated the force of Christopher as a kid-magnet. Honestly: they cling to him. Boys and girls alike. Teen-aged boys, in particular, find Christopher’s appeal irresistible. At times, CP races away from them, screaming, “Get away from me! I need some space!” These boys, giggling, trail eagerly after him, mimicking his walk and talk. It’s a riot.

With our own children, Christopher is a pied piper. Last week, I stayed in bed most mornings due to a severe head cold and thus overheard Charlotte (6) and Theo’s (3) weekday morning ritual chez Christopher (45).

a. music by Thao, the clapping song

b. clapping by Christopher

c. clapping and singing by Christopher and the kids

d. breakfast machinations by all

e. crying by Theo

f. singing by Charlotte

g. brushing of hair by Charlotte

h. remonstrations by Christopher

i. giggling by all

j. running to catch bus by Charlotte

k. announcing / sing-songing “I’m read-ee to roll, Dadd-ee!” by Theo (and “I want to see my friends . . . !)

l. door slamming by Theo

I thought: this is what happens every morning while I’m at work.

Then, on Saturday morning, Christopher and Theo announced they were going to the park. I happened to catch them on their way around the corner of our block: Theo on his trike; Christopher on his skateboard (yes, skateboard). Later that morning, the boys were dancing in the dining room. This behavior, on the part of Christopher, is beyond his known and practiced reluctance to shake his booty in public. Our friend and orthopedic surgeon John Fenning, concerned that something was wrong with the immobile Christopher during a rockin’ event in Fort Myers FL, once took Christopher’s faux pulse while the rest of us brought the house down.

The Accidental Parent. My husband. A super partner and my best friend, is also the most amazing father.