Hello, Hot Dad
Our school gate is – like most in Hong Kong – mainly populated by women. We muddle along come sun, come rain. But add a father to the mix and we turn from relatively balanced mature females into simpering embarrassing teenagers – especially when the father in question is a Hot Dad. A true Hot Dad only comes along every couple of year groups. No insult intended to all the other perfectly presentable husbands out there, but the HD is a rare and valued commodity. He makes a ripple. For that, I blame being stuck at home with limited opportunities for objective assessments of the physical attributes of the male species (mine are petrol pump attendants and the village postman). So when an HD hoves into view, the reaction is can be extreme.
Our school gate is – like most in Hong Kong – mainly populated by women. We muddle along come sun, come rain. But add a father to the mix and we turn from relatively balanced mature females into simpering embarrassing teenagers – especially when the father in question is a Hot Dad. A true Hot Dad only comes along every couple of year groups. No insult intended to all the other perfectly presentable husbands out there, but the HD is a rare and valued commodity. He makes a ripple. For that, I blame being stuck at home with limited opportunities for objective assessments of the physical attributes of the male species (mine are petrol pump attendants and the village postman). So when an HD hoves into view, the reaction is can be extreme.
When an HD enters a group at The Gate, the change in body language could fill the pages of any psychological journal. Women, who moments earlier could hold their own in a discussion of the credit crunch, lose their grip on normality and revert to their flirty younger selves. The amount of hair tossing is shameful. As for me, I try to stay away from the silliness until some primaeval instinct kicks in and I find myself trying to outdo Fashion Mum using my wit and repartee to vie for HD’s attention. It’s hardly a level playing field: Fashion Mum’s cleavage makes her a shoe-in for an Olympic gold while relying on my wit leaves me in a poor bronze position.
Poor HDs. I’ve often wondered if they have any inkling about the effect they have on mothers. And what about the HD’s spouse – does she have a sixth sense that picks up the pheromones at The Gate? In the process of carrying out global research for this column, I turned to my sister-in-law to get her take on the HD. Turns out my brother is considered an HD in their school community. I asked sister in law how she felt. Jealous? Protective? It turns out she is flattered and quite proud of him. Now I wasn’t expecting that.
But, she continues, at their school gate the mothers have a more interesting and challenging target for female hair flicking: the Hot Teacher. Suddenly poor old HD seems a bit last year. Maybe I should be going home armed with careers advisory leaflets to persuade my own HD of a husband it’s time for a career change. Could be interesting for both of us…
