Mr. Mom

My wife left me on Saturday. Okay, it's not really as dramatic as that. She had an all-day outing with the girls up in the wine country. So I became Mr. Mom. Because we've taken Judah in his stroller through our surrounding neighborhoods so many times that I could do it blindfolded, I decided to take Judah down to the Embarcadero to check out the farmer's market, and then to the Giants ballpark.

I grabbed the stroller, the diaper bag, my backpack, and of course Judah and headed toward the F-car line (for you non-public transpo types, it runs down Market street). When we got to Market, the F car pulled up across the street from us. I briefly considered jaywalking, but I'm sure Judah wouldn't appreciate it, given the amount of cars racing by. So we waited, and luckily the streetcar didn't make the light so I asked the driver if I could get on.

He opened the door and I fumbled to quickly get Judah and the diaper bag out of the stroller and fold it up. The driver was nice enough to grab the stroller and put it on board so I could handle the rest. I reached into my pocket and grabbed the buck fifty fare. The streetcar began moving. I lost my balance and had to take a step sideways so's not to drop Judah, then I was able to get the money into the coin box. Whew.

Not 5 seconds later, the streetcar made a lurch forward and I lost my balance again, nearly putting Judah on the floor. Luckily for him I have decent balance, so I just absorbed the motion with my knees and crouched for a sec and then made for the nearest seat.

Some 50-something tourist ladies in the nearby bench seat chuckled and one of them said something of which I could only make out "Britney Spears", and they laughed again. Ha ha very funny muthafucka. Judah and I settled into our seat and he seemed to enjoy the ride (as much as a 5 month old can anyway), and the tourist ladies gushed about how cute he is.

We had the same sort of adventure getting off the streetcar, except with no assistance from the driver this time. Same thing getting on and off the N going home. If I was a woman with a child, people would be tripping over themselves trying to help out. Man!