Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Tomorrow, tomorrow . . .

I love ya tomorrow! Today wasn't so bad, but tomorrow is predicted to be sunny with a one hundred per cent chance of Amy coming home. It's just in the nick of time too. I don't know how long my 17 month old is going to tolerate going to Grandma's house. She has a good time when she's there, but she's getting more and more disappointed in me, I can tell. She used to love getting her coat on so she could go in the car. Now, however, when I get the coat out of the closet, she just eyes me warily as if she thinks I'm up to something. Luckily for me, Grandma and Grandpa are very good at keeping her entertained and she has a pretty short attention span.

Oh, I found out why Amy prefers to take her shower when I'm in the house as opposed to taking it sometime during the day when I'm gone to work. I thought it had something to do with security, keeping an eye on the kids, or something parentally notable like that. Instead . . . Oh, I'll just give you this morning's example. Shower running. Daddy humming. Shampoo foaming. Knock at the door and a muffled voice says something. I recognize the muffle as my five year-old daughter's muffle. "What is it Rilla?" I ask cheerfully as one whose shower has been interrupted can possibly answer. "Daddy, Muffle muffle muff-mo?" "What?" I ask. She repeats and I hear "Wet stars to grow? " "WHAT?!" I answer with noticeably less cheerfulness. "The water is on and I can't understand you honey, you're going to have to speak up." She yells through the door "I said, wart sorts if mow?" Now into full-scale exasperation I pull the shower curtain open enough to peek my head out and repeat what I heard, "WART SORTS IF MOW?!?" I recognize her own exasperated muffle and a distinct NO!! I then tell her to poke her head inside and tell me again what she said. She then repeats to me as if there should never have been any doubt and what kind of idiot doesn't understand her muffles through a door and with their head under water anyway, "Daddy, What . . . starts . . . with . . . "O"?" Feel free to insert a short incredulous silence here. I wasn't in the same zip code as her mind was. I just stared at her blur(I had my glasses off) and repeated it back to her to make sure I got it right. "Yeah, What starts with "O"?" Cheerfulness was now a distant (but cheerful) memory. I shook my head several times to make sureI got the shampoo out of my ears, then I simply responded with "How about, "Oh my gosh, I can't believe you interrupted my shower for that!"" Rilla simply giggled and said I was silly and that she couldn't take that to school with her for "O" day and decided to take Matthew's toy ostrich instead. I told her that was probably a better idea and politely asked permission to finish my shower. She graciously acquiesced and I finished the rest of my shower in peace. I hereby make a solemn vow to make sure my wife gets a shower in the mornings before I go if she wants one.

Other than that, things went well. Amy called this evening and is enjoying herself so much. She'll tell all about it I'm sure on her blog when she gets back. The house is still in one piece pretty much and the kids are still alive. They've been exceptionally well-behaved these last few days and I am very proud of them for bucking up and really picking up the slack. I am missing my wife terribly, but am so glad she could go. She'll be here tomorrow and I'll report then because as great as these last few days have been, there will be . . . more to follow

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Steve, I am so happy Amy mentioned you had been keeping track. I don't know how you did it. When we watch them on a few occassions I wonder how we survive for just a few hours much less days. I loved the what starts with "o". She's such a cute bug.

Anonymous said...

ooooooooooooh, yes. showers. I'm roflmbo! that's the hardest thing for me when my hubby travels...thee hardest. You've learned a valuable lesson. ;) O