Get ready for people leaving your life. Ghosted. My kid and I lived in San Francisco in an old Victorian. I had a job interview, and my babysitter was taken ill. No job interview. No job. It was an opportunity. I leaned in to it. You have to learn how to I threw out almost everything. The whole house opened up and all that floor room. Toys everywhere. Loved it. I wrote a book about single guys and their kids. I lived on advances. No family. No mom. No friends. Just us. After reparenting parenting, there is a very strange thing with book publishing. Dad is an afterthought. No one thinks about single men who are parenting their children. Alone. The focus is always on the mom. We signed up for swimming lessons at the YWCA. Moms. Babies. They could not relate to me. If you can kick, you can swim. When a dad with a kid showed up, the women closed ranks. They so did not approve. Moms with kids treated me like a criminal. When the moms and babies were in the shallow end kicking their little feet, we went to the deep end, climbed on the diving board and jumped. Down we went. My kid squealed with delight. We did it again. Finally, it was time to get dressed and leave. The next piece of cultural silliness was the shower with the men. She’s a girl. She’s a girl. Apparently, there had been a volleyball match, and the showers were crowded. I’m carrying my kid. The showers became quite silent. I had to cut her hair to make her look like a boy. Department store restrooms. “Your daughter is in there playing with the faucets.”

“Stop playing with the faucets!”

I’m a guy. I’m a guy.