After several false starts, my little miracle baby and I finally got around to watching the seminal 1983 classic, Mr. Mom. Within a few days of each other, we watched this, Gung Ho and The Other Guys, and both of us agreed that Michael Keaton is a wonderful, wonderful talent that should be hired immediately for whatever high profile project anyone out there is considering.
Mr. Mom obviously takes place in a very different time, when the idea of a man staying at home with his children was the very definition of comedy. Even funnier was the idea that women could work in an office. So when Michael Keaton’s character, named… Mr. Mom (someone fact check that)… loses his job and his wife, Teri Garr’s character, named… Mr. Mom (fact check?)… instantly gets a job as an advertising executive, which is what happens when someone with no experience looks for a job.
Because he’s a man, Michael Keaton has never been to a supermarket or figured how to buy things like ham. “It’s almost like he’s disabled,” my baby says. “That’s men for you,” I say. And we both laugh. Men!Here, he’s sneakily trying to buy some lady products. I try to explain to my miracle baby what lady products are. “Sometimes, when mommies and daddies love each other…” I begin, but he interrupts with, “I know what &!#$*ing maxi pads are mother*&#^#!!”
Michael Keaton makes a mess of bathing his children. I laugh and tell my baby I can relate to this, because bathing him is like going down a water slide while people scream and throw things at you. “I can’t get clean unless I’m screaming my head off,” my little miracle insists. I smile and say, “Well, I can’t wait for that to stop. Seriously, I hate it.” He laughs, then realises I’m not joking and we watch the next half hour of the movie in silence.
To prove he’s a macho man, Michael Keaton pretends to be doing major construction with a chainsaw. “He could seriously hurt himself or someone else,” my baby says, laughing. I look at him, concerned. Maybe this movie isn’t appropriate for a baby his age. Then again, maybe it is. I’m not a scientist.
Michael Keaton starts to let himself go. I haven’t been able to do that to myself because it’s really hard to make something this pretty look bad. Of course, according to my baby, I have let myself go and I’ve never looked worse. “This was supposed to be a fun, father-son bonding thing,” I tell him. “You wanna do something about it, Supertramp?” I’m not sure what he means by that, so I just say, “No.” Man, this guy is mean and intimidating.
But he’s also really adorable. “Teri Garr is the most beautiful woman in the world,” my little miracle says, adding, “I want to marry her.” I tell him gently that she might be a little old for him by the time he’s ready to get married. “I’m ready now,” he says, dead serious. Again, I gently suggest she’s too old for him. He says, “I want to give her a kiss.” I become instantly uncomfortable. “I want her to warm up my bottle,” he says. I know he means that literally, but it’s disgusting.
“I’ve been here!” I say as Michael Keaton attempts to dry his baby’s bottom with an electric hand dryer. I put my hand up for a high-five, but my baby just stares at it. “You should be ashamed yourself,” he says. “If you try to high-five me again, I’ll take a dump inside your computer. Inside it.”
At the end of the movie, everybody gets what they want – Michael Keaton goes back to work, Teri Garr gets to keep her job and the kids are left to fend for themselves. Just like in real life.
Next up? My baby and I tackle Daddy Day Care.