THE NIGHT before Father's Day I overheard this conversation:

"My dad's an arsehole."

"My dad's a bigger arsehole."

"It's not a competition."

"Maybe."

"But if it was my father would win."

The amount of stories I hear, and the bitterness and reluctant resignation with which they are told, makes me think there could be an Olympics for bad dads. Gold medals awarded to sexual predators, emotional abusers, financial delinquents, and absent fathers.

I'm sure men want to be good dads, magnificent men and fine human beings.

And every child wants those qualities in their father. No one's perfect, but it's heartbreaking when it doesn't even come close. Great dads, even good dads, are much thinner on the ground than top mums. There seems to be a top mum in every second kitchen. The term "dad envy" is often bandied around among my 40-something friends. This is not in reference to the fathers of the young children who surround us but the fathers of our adult friends.

People with great dads are considered incredibly lucky. While many fathers were opening cards with pictures of anchors and open fires and unwrapping biographies of sporting greats on Sunday, many people do not have contact with their fathers on Father's Day, or any other day.

The broken hearts and shattered dreams that lead to a severing of ties with a parent are deep wounds that are tricky and, in some cases, impossible to heal and can damage future relationships. Men need to be better at fathering. They need examples, support and to be left alone and expected to do it, which is a challenge in our world of gender expectations, complicated lives and the undervaluing of caring for children.

When people with children split up, even if the woman bags her ex relentlessly, more often than not she'll admit that he's become a better father. Because he's had to do it on his own - find the skills and be without a go-to person.

When our children were young and out with their dad, it was not uncommon for women to approach him and gush about what a great job he was doing. One woman said, "Where's mummy today?" and he replied: "My mum's been dead for 10 years."

A stay-at home-dad or a man pushing a pram is more common these days than when we began equal parenting 10 years ago. But fathers are still considered more worthy of praise and encouragement. "Steve's changing the baby. Isn't he fabulous?"

Making a virtue out of what should be normal is counter-productive. It sets the bar too low. How often do we hear stories about fathers left alone for a couple of days to care for their children being inundated with casseroles and offers of help? Offers that seldom happen when a woman is caring for her children alone. They'll never learn to do it if everyone else is doing it for them.

I was abruptly put straight by a lady lawyer mate of mine as I spoke encouragingly about the amount of dads at pick-up at the school, equal parenting and domestic literacy among the men I know. That's in the People's Republic Of Moreland. Nothing's changing in Collins Street.

Many times when I've asked a dad on the phone what he's doing he'll reply, "Babysitting". "Oh, whose kids?" I'll ask. "My own," he'll say. He's always surprised when I inform him it's not called babysitting, it's called parenting.

Men are never asked, "Who looks after your kids when you're at work?" Yet women are constantly grilled, judged and questioned about their child-care arrangements. Women will tell me that their income only just covers the child care, as if the child care is solely their job and their financial responsibility.

Blokes are often treated, and frequently act, as if they are doing a favour looking after their own children. And a bit of passive aggression or even full-on resentment is not uncommon. The cultural and social default setting is that it's the woman's job to care for children and blokes merely help. We don't need role reversal in parenting, we need role development.

Women often prevent men from acquiring parenting fitness and confidence by not giving men the opportunity to find their way and develop their own skills. Mothers should not be the walking parenting instruction manual. Buy a good baby-care book that can be accessed independently. Write the feeding schedule down and leave the father with a bottle of expressed milk or formula a couple of times a week from when the baby's born so he can do the whole feeding, settling, sleeping circuit and learn to care for his kids and get to know them.

The truth is the more he does, the more he'll do. And the more she does, the more she'll keep doing. Back off ladies and leave the blokes holding the baby so they can nut it out. It's not your job. It's a team effort.



Catherine Deveny is a Comedy writer, stand-up comedian and columnist at The Age