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.
Recent commentsBlog comments powered by Disqus
- vidagemelos likes this
- 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!
- sweetcarolinealine likes this
- hey-there-moonflower likes this
- keetchiemom likes this
- thekidhasarrived likes this
- countydad likes this
- mvonbank likes this
- thesahmmy likes this
- bageldreams said: You’ll do fine, and he’ll owe you big time when he gets home. ;)
- bageldreams likes this
- asimpledad likes this
- lazydad likes this
- butdadsaid likes this
- kimber-leigh likes this
- northernmomma likes this
- rockabillymomma likes this
- daysofthedad likes this
- punkdad likes this
- electradaddy posted this
Stuff I Like
I have to get “Edge of Glory” out of my head before someone hears me whistling it.
Teddy's fave song is Are You Gonna Be My Girl
Only thing that’ll get him to stop whinging. I don’t even know all the words I just make it up and he...
do you ever just “what the fuck is the point” so hard that you stop everything you’re doing and stare and pretty much wonder...
My daughter loves to sing and dance. Ever since she was a baby I would sing to her and we would dance around the house. When she was younger we...