Benjamin has this nasty little habit of calling every man in sight “Daddy.”

I’m sure if his father had a greater presence in his life this wouldn’t be the case. I’ve convinced myself, actually, that he does this because I’m a single mom. It’s just killing me. It happens in the grocery store, at the park, on the street, in the car, at his day care and in the coffee shop.

I’ve tried correcting him.

“No, honey, that’s just a man. A man, not a daddy.” And when it’s someone we know, “No, Benjamin that’s not Daddy that’s our neighbor, Ted.”

But to no avail. It’s so bad actually that when I see a man walking toward us on the sidewalk my body actually tenses up. Uh-oh. Here it comes.

“Daddy! Daddy!” He shouts, “Hi, Daaaaddeeeeeee!”

The poor, unsuspecting men usually smile and give Benjamin a big Hello. Then they probably go home and can’t sleep with their girlfriends that night.

Does this happen to anyone else?

Please, oh please say yes. You know what? Just lie to me and tell me it does. I could lock his real dad in a closet and force him to spend more time with his son. By the way, he was a no show last week (car problems again) and even though he hadn’t seen him in two weeks he tried to drop him off at my grandmother’s 8 hours early. I told him – no, that he had to spend time with his son.

Sometimes I think we’d be better off without him in our lives. What happens when Benjamin is old enough to know that his dad, his hero, wants to dump him off at Grandma’s the second he has the chance? What’s to say he doesn’t sense that already?

[Photo: Benjamin and his uncle Ezra, who he, of course, called Daddy all night. His cargo shorts are way too long! They look like short pants. So funny.]

Related posts:

1. Thou shalt not speak of…
2. Happy Father’s Day, Daddy (!)
3. Daddy is coming back.