I must have been like  school kids who think that their teachers live at school because I was a bit surprised when Reid announced that the cook at Reid’s daycare had taken some time off. Before the conversation ended, I knew more than I ever imagined I’d know about his life. It went something like this:

Me: What did Todd make for lunch today?
Reid: Todd is away. It was Won.
Me: Won?
Reid: *Wuh*-on!
Me: Oh, Ron! Sorry. (That should have been obvious but my brain was tired after a day in French class.) Where’s Todd?
Reid: What is the word for his woman?
Me: Mother?
Reid: No.
Me: Wife?
Reid: Yes. That’s it. She had another baby. He is staying home to watch over the baby. His older child goes to school by itself.
Me: (I had no idea that he had a child already, let alone one that was old enough to attend school.) How long will Todd be staying home?
Reid: He is staying home until… (Her voice trails off as she is clearly searching for an answer. Then with confidence) When he’s back, I’ll ask how long.
Me: If we ask the teachers, you could make a “Congratulations on your new baby” card.
Reid: Yeah! Let’s do that
Me: Is Ron a good cook like Todd?
Reid: Todd is a good cook. But sometimes he cooks yucky food. Sometimes we try the yucky food.
Me: Just because you think some food is yucky doesn’t mean that it wasn’t cooked well.
Reid: (No small amount of skepticism on her face. No words but much doubt.)

After driving a bit further
Reid: Let’s play daycare but there’s no director.
Me: (Wondering: do I ask to be director when we play? Why has she eliminated the option?) I want to be the cook.
Reid: (Humour in her voice) No, I want Daddy to be the cook. And I’ll be the student with CareB and Eeyore and Princess Dolly …

It would seem that in Reid’s world, it is laughable to suggest that men might carry Blackberries or women might do the laundry or be cooks outside the home. I hope there’s a little boy out there who has some pretty flexible ideas about gender roles. Note that I chose “boy” carefully in the preceding sentence. When Reid mentioned marriage recently she said she couldn’t marry L because she is a girl, too. I said that sometimes girls marry girls and Reid told me emphatically that she wasn’t going to do so. During this sort of exchange I usually tell Reid that she has to be a grown up lady before she can get married. If Ken is around, he throws in the number 30 as the minimum age. Dads can dream.