Tuesday 200 - #50
You couldn’t help but notice. They were everywhere you looked. On buses. On the sidewalks. In lines at the supermarkets. Waiting outside restaurants. It was like some Nordic edict had been passed throughout the land: Nine out of ten nice looking Swedish men are required to push state-of-the-art baby carriages with sleeping children in them.
I went through my guidebook to see to see if there was some reference to the phenomenon, but couldn’t find anything except references to meatballs, schlager, ABBA, IKEA and lagom, the zen-like concept of just enough.
Curiosity got the best of me, as it does. I asked Eva, who was hands down the most helpful waitress in SoFo, if not the world, if gay adoption was on the rise in Stockholm.
"How do you mean?” she asked, clearing away my plate of smoked shrimp.
“Everywhere we go we see men with baby strollers,” I said.
“Oh, yes,” she smiled, her blue eyes twinkling in the cafe’s candlelight. “We mothers decided long ago that if we had to go through the trouble of pushing the babies out, the least the fathers could do was to push them around.”
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