Sweet Crawfish Pie. DynaPapa leaves tomorrow (Sunday) for a 10-day business trip that will take him to Copenhagen, Amsterdam, & Seattle. Despite my pleas to think of my sanity, my cries of a terrific educational experience, and my bribes that promised the performance of certain acts that shall remain unspecified in a public forum, he refused to take the twins with him.
This means the work of making sure chores are done; that people are where they’re supposed to be when they’re supposed to be there; that baths (with at least the usage of some soap) have been taken; that a toothbrush has, at least, come within 3 inches of everyone’s mouth; and that meals don’t consist of cotton candy, soda, and Popsicles, with a Snicker’s candy bar tossed in as a snack, will fall to me. Oh, wait a minute. That’s how it is every day.
Nevertheless, you don’t truly realize how much you rely on your parenting partner until the person is away for a few days. Plus, when your parenting partner is away you realize just how much of a balance and compliment you are to each other.
Since the twins seem to think DynaPapa is in charge of fun, frivolity, and fabulousness and that I’m the Prince of Darkness, they’re prone to telling me, especially during his absences, “I want Papa!” But, hey, I can be fun, too. As proof, I penned (semi-stole) these words to the much sung ballad, The Battle Hymn of the Republic.
I don’t know what the fuss is; I’m not asking very much.
Just learn to use a fork and please do wipe your butt.
Also give me a kiss or you won’t get any lunch.
'Cause I'm your loving dad.
Glory glory to my children.
No, I wouldn’t really kill them.
But, with terror, I will fill them,
If they don’t behave.
You think I’m a psycho and that very well could be.
You say you have no freedom but I have to disagree.
I will always let you choose between spinach or broccoli.
'Cause I'm your loving dad.
Ok. So, I have a little work to do on this fun & craziness thing. But, I’ve got the next 10 days. Ten days with just me and two very active, very strong-willed little boys. Oh, mercy. I. Want. Papa.
Lyric credits: Partially from here and partially made-up. And, no, I wouldn’t really fill them with terror. It’s a joke. Maybe. No, really.
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- sweetcarolinealine said: E is gone every other night of the week for 24-hours in MT. His only day off is Saturday. We seem him on the return night home, (unless H and I are already asleep) and until 11AM when we drop him off at work. I totally understand!
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- bageldreams said: You’ll do fine, and he’ll owe you big time when he gets home. ;)
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