Levi writes about parenthood.

I recently wrote a post for What To Expect dot com’s “Word of Dad” blog. You can read the whole thing by clicking this link:

My Child’s Failures and Successes Can’t Be My Own




For the probably lovely older lady at the coffee shop in my neighborhood who thought she was being supportive when she told me how nice it was that I babysit my daughter I’ve put together a list of ten ways you can tell I am not my daughter’s babysitter. I hope she’ll find reading this as enjoyable as I found writing it.

Ten Ways You Can Tell I’m not my Daughter’s Babysitter

1. Not only can I eat anything I want in the fridge, I also picked out and paid for all of it.


2. I’m not getting paid $5 an hour. In fact, if you take hospital bills, mortgage payments, medical insurance, and stuffed animal fees I’ve paid thousands upon thousands of dollars to spend time with this little girl.


3. I don’t need a ride home at midnight. I’m already home at midnight and likely asleep on the couch after having watched half of a documentary on Russia’s Toughest Prisons.


4. If I had a college savings account, and oh for all that is good in the world I should, it wouldn’t be for myfuture college plans.


5. I’m way too comfortable with the fact that I’ve had my daughter’s vomit and poop on me more times than I can count.


6. I can literally stay up as late as I want every single night but I choose not to because I know how hard that makes the morning.


7. Nobody says that to my wife when she’s with our daughter.


8. Not only am I not freaked out by all those scary house noises late at night but I also know how much it costs to replace the boiler that causes them.


9. When I experience personal failure, which is not infrequent, the first person I think about is not myself but the little girl who has made me cry and smile more in the last seven years than I had in the previous twenty-seven.


10. I don’t get extra money for washing the dishes.


Bonus way you can tell I’m not my daughter’s babysitter – I’m her dad


Have you been called a babysitter?

Share your stories of fatherhood disparagement in the comments. Or share your own “I am not a babysitter” photo.


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