Article Contributed on: 3/25/2007 11:56:54 PM
If it's Sunday, it must be time for a play (therapy) date around here. At least that's the way things have been going lately, and that means that Mommy and "M" are out seeing to that as well as any number of other, indispensable tasks: donating 15 metric tons of seldom-used toys to charitable causes, visiting the members-only,
large-volume retailer in order to purchase life's necessities in quantities that would bring a blush to the cheek of a Roman Emperor and stopping off at a local mud vendor for 28 ounces of an unpronounceable bean-based concoction.
Plus a strawberry milk for "M." Obviously some missions carry more heft than others...
I'd go myself - and have from time to time in the past - but it seems that the presence of chest hair somehow impedes the therapy's progress. Or so I've concluded from past experiences.
But no matter - this leaves me free to spend most of a waking day with my boys. And what a welcome exchange it will be! I'm already imagining it: morning spent on minibikes, some time on the archery range just before lunch and then exploring the outer rim on horseback before heading home for dinner...
Or, at least that's how I hope things will look in a few years. For now - at 2 and 1 years old, they don't yet need all those things to enjoy a day with Daddy. Simply hitting him or climbing on him as he sits on the couch, in his recliner or lies on the floor at their level is enough.
And the naps. Don't forget the naps...
Chris Stone is a slightly different - hopefully better - Father and man than he was yesterday...