Did you learn that from your wife?

For those irregular followers of Milk & O's, as well as those who have not been privy to the multiple changes that have occurred with Swiss Family Frodermann since August 2009, the artist formerly known as SuperDad is now Mr. Mom. I have taken a few months to settle into the new gig before contributing to the FroFamily blog, but if I am going to really embrace this new role, the cross to bear that is maintaining this blog should become a bigger priority of mine. We all know that this blog has suffered anyway since the advent of MyFace and the stranglehold it has taken on KFro. It only promises to get worse now that work has "required" that Chief Breadwinner get an iPhone. Now it is SpaceTweetBook all the time, in the car, on the couch, ..... As such, this is the inaugural blog post of Mr. Mom, with the promise of regular ones to follow.

While a less sexy title than SuperDad, Mr. Mom is whimsical, clever, and descriptive, as well as conjures up fond memories of that classic 80's film by the same name. However, I vow to be more entertaining than the comical stylings of Michael Keaton and Terri Garr. Plus, I won't almost single handedly ruin the Batman franchise. Michael Keaton = Batman = lame. I also vow to not let the new role change me as a person. I will still be the same softball addicted, beer drinking, Chipotle eating fool that I've always been. Except now I've found myself drinking even more, and I've grown a full beard. Grizzly Adams - look out. There is a new sheriff in town. And I don't hang out in the woods with some old crazy guy and a bear. At least not yet anyway.

Now, to break you all in slowly, I'll leave you with a little anecdote from a day in the life. Hence the title of this post and accompanying picture. To set the scene, one night last week, Chief Breadwinner was working late doing what she does and the kids and I are eating dinner. I am doing some refrigerator maintenance by serving a variety of fruits as part of our meal to ensure that they do not spoil and thus be destined for the garbage disposal. As we are eating, the following conversation occurs.

B (in his typical loud excited voice): "Dad, we have three different kinds of fruit! Grapes, apples, and peaches."
Mr. Mom: "Yes B, we do. Good counting. Can you guys think of any other kinds of fruit?"
B (as he spies what is on the counter): "Bananas and kiwi!"
Mr. Mom: "Yes, good job."
A: "Pineapple."
Mr. Mom: "Great."
B: "Pears."
Mr. Mom (thinking when will this end): "Yes."
A: "Tomatoes."
Mr. Mom (completely surprised): "Yes. How did you know that? Most people think tomatoes are vegetables."
A (in complete teenager voice): "I learned it in school. How did you know that? Did you learn that from your wife? She is a scientist you know."
Mr. Mom (straight faced but busting a gut internally): "No. I learned it in school to, ... and why did you call Mommy my wife instead of just saying Mommy?"
A (matter-of-factly): "Because that is what she is. Your mommy is Grandma F."
Mr. Mom (now laughing out loud with B joining in): "You got me there A. You got me there."