Shall I rehash the feminist critique of assumptions about professionals being disembodied individuals detached from family obligations? I think not. Instead, an example. (Warning: gross!)
I’m reading to Kid from the Animal Science Book, while he’s having his potty time. I think we were learning about how coral and sponges are animals, not plants, when I hear Dog barf. I have to choose between wiping the poopy bum or cleaning up the vomit, and I pick the bum. Wrong choice–Dog eats vomit.
“Gross!” says Kid. At least one family member is properly socialized.
Since then, Kid has had a bath and gone to bed, and Dog has graced the carpet with three more barfs. I have become that crazy person who drops everything and scampers to clean up the barf before she can eat it up again.
Meanwhile, there is sociological work to be done. And I wonder, does Rob Sampson ever have to choose between poop and barf? If so, I hope he makes the right choice.