Article Contributed on: 5/4/2009 9:52:50 PM
What?!? You mean to say that not EVERYone takes April off? What are you - heathens?
OK - sorry. To use a lame, over-tired excuse, I've been busy. But you might understand better if I explain...
My
Wif has been called out of town on business more often in past weeks than she has in the previous 3 years. This has created an interesting circumstance called, "Daddy Runs The Show," (DaRTS). It has also provided an "opportunity" for me to burn some of my much-valued annual leave. So I guess it all works out.
For her first trip - a full work week long - she left me a 2-page, extremely detailed printout containing all the details, timetables and varied intricacies of our kids' lives. Stuff like, "get "
M" up at 6:40. Make sure she's got cereal ready downstairs. Wake The Knuckleheads at 7:00. Cereal for them, too.
D-Man is the yogurt carrier. They have to be at day care by 7:40 to get breakfast," and the like.
(As an aside, I should tell you that back in the Wildfire Year of 2002 - before we had the kids and still lived in Evergreen - she had to travel and left me an 'evacuation list.' The first item on the list - and I kid you not - was "Dogs (2)." I joked at the time and ever since that I'm greatful it didn't say, "Dogs (5)" because then I'd have to go to the neighbors begging to take their dogs so I could fulfill the list.)
As for the most recent trip, she simply said, "day care on Thursday; come home with the same 3 children you drop off. School for "
M" on Friday. Feed them from time to time." Guess I'd proven myself to her!
Either that or she was influenced by the fact that this was basically only a 2-day trip. I'm happy either way.
But I proved something to myself along the way, too; and that's exactly how much I'm missing - and she seems to be taking for granted - as the kids age and develop. For example, my daughter seems to be obsessed with chickens. "I smell chicken!" she'll exclaim whether it's true or not. "Daddy, what's a chicken?" she'll ask. Any meal that isn't immediately identifiable is labeled as chicken.
Well, one of the kid CDs in my
Wif's car has a song that ends in chicken clucks. When they hear this,
D-Man turns to his sister and completely dead pans, "there's your chickens,
Sissy." It's hilarious to watch, but when I point it out to
The Wif she simply says, "he does that all the time."
Also, when
D-Man knows the song that's playing he sings along in perfect pitch and with such soulful movements that you'd think he was on stage. Similarly, the songs that end in an exclamation, ("POPCORN!"), or when clapping is required will have all of them joining in enthusiastically.
It's quite cute, but the hijinx aren't limited to the car; every now and then Bink will start crying because, "
Sissy says I can't be the baby dog." My answer? "Tell
Sissy you're Godzilla and go over and step on her." (Apparently this isn't the right answer.) And from time to time
Bink will grab his older brother around the middle and by saying, "we fighting
D-Man," will drag him to the ground.
Apparently, the Knucklehead Accords require a formal declaration.
I'm sorry that I have to miss these sorts of things, but someone has to keep rock-a-ronies on the table. Plus, I get to catch glimpses, so that'll have to do.
Chris Stone is looking forward to his next business trip so he can get some sleep...