Whenever I see a stay-at-home parent with a particularly wearied look, I always ask, "Just get back from vacation?" The answer is often "yes."

This isn't a new phenomenon, of course. I can only imagine the days of "Dad" piling everyone into the family truckster and meandering across the country for a week or so. "Mom" had to do meal planning, manual Maquesting and keep the kids in line as well.

There was a movie along these lines. Additional plot lines involved killing "Grandma" and "Dad" getting hot and heavy over Christie Brinkley.

I might quibble with a few specifics (Penelope Cruz would be an improvement on Christie, to be sure), but the emotional truth of Vacation still rules. Except for the getting-happy-and-hurling-with-John Candy ending, which is totally bogus. In real life, the Griswolds do hard time on some kind of drug charge.

Still, the fact remains that stay-at-home parents don't get real vacations very often. I should qualify this. Once the youngest child is in school, parents ought to be able to send the little shits off on their own for a little while. We managed to spend a couple minutes at the beach last week relatively alone while our six-year-old and three-year-old dug in the sand and rolled in the waves. It was a pleasant taste of things to come.

I can hear the question now. "Why isn't a vacation a real vacation? Don't you have other people to watch the kids now and again? I mean, in Vacation the kids spent an afternoon getting stoned with their cousins. Found time is found time, right?"

The kids in Vacation were teenagers, so even my own example is flawed. It's a sad truth that whenever a person sees a child who happens to be a relation, that relative feels some sort of near-religious compunction to expound upon the mysteries of the raising of children. So, for example, let's say little Bobby goes fishing with Grandpa for the morning. Fishing goes as usual (nothing hooked other than the occasional pissed-off crab). Bobby isn't pleased. Grandad is even less pleased.

Grandad: That kid is a whiny brat. You've got to teach Bobby how to fish properly.

Dad: When you say "fishing," you mean sitting on your ass, pounding a couple beers and going on and on and on about the vagaries of the upcoming election, all while managing to snag your grandson twice?

There are times that advice from those who have gone before is useful. But the folks who tend to chime in the most are those without children. Let's say cousin Trudy is holed up in a corner with her third Godiva martini of the morning. Bobby has just run over her foot (for the God-knows-how-manyth time) with the remote-controlled monster truck she herself bought Bobby last Christmas.

Cousin Trudy: Goddamnit, that hurts! Haven't you taught Bobby any manners? He's like a little monster with that thing. And anyway, that's an outdoor toy if I ever saw one.

Dad: Speaking of ideal worlds, perhaps big-ass electric toy isn't the most appropriate gift for a three-year-old.

Of course, a real Dad can't say those things. A real Dad on vacation has to sit there and smile. In addition to final responsibility for small children, the parents are supposed to endure almost endless "hints and suggestions." This is not a vacation, no matter who is staying home.

These things are true even if you're not hanging with the Fam. The average idiot on the street has plenty to say to parents of even slightly less-than-perfect tots.

Crotchety old man: Can't you shut that kid up? He's ruining my tour of the Hall of Mammals.

Dad: Gimme what you got in your flask, and I'll shut him up in a jiffy.

I'm not complaining. Well, not as much as it seems. If you've been a stay-at-home parent for more than a year, all this is old hat. You simply accept the lack of real vacations and look forward to the day that your kids sleep in until ten and then dash out the door without so much as a "where's the frackin' cereal?"

Ahhh. That's the life.

Jon Worley is looking forward to a real vacation in 2013 or so.