ADVENTURES OF A WORK AT HOME DAD
It’s raining outside and the forecast says by mid-week it will turn to snow. That’s not uncommon for this part of year in my part of the globe, in fact the almanac says we have snow on the ground before Halloween about twenty-five percent of the time. What the almanac doesn’t say is that this year the primary caregiver in our home will be me, one-hundred percent of the time. Now that is uncommon. Of course my wife will be around to love and nurture the kids too—she works from home after all—but this year the parent in charge of running the household is me. In the words of Miss Piggy, moi. The wife brings home the bacon, and then I fry it up in a pan.
Now, back to the weather. The reason I bring it up is because instead of running around the neighborhood with reckless abandon, our two boys no longer want to play outside because it’s cold. They still play with the same reckless abandon, they’ve just moved the recklessness indoors. The abandon part has moved inside as well. They abandon their clothes, toys, bread crumbs and myriad other things wherever they’re not supposed to be. Looking for a coat? The closet is the last place you should search. Try under the bed, on top of the table, or inside the fort that has suddenly sprung up in the living room. Missing that bag of marshmallows you just bought to make Rice Krispy Treats? Look in the bathroom or under the couch cushions. Or maybe the laundry room. But never go there to look for clothes. They’re strewn about the house in a pattern reminiscent of what a hurricane would leave in it’s path. Perhaps I should begin naming these storms of clothing, much like the National Weather Service names the storms each year. Let’s see, Tropical Depression Hanes, Tropical Storm Izod, and Hurricane Nike. Ugh. It’s not even November and I’m already looking forward to spring.
But like it or not, this is the hand I’ve been dealt. Mine is a future of laundry, dishes, and carpools. Not exactly what I expected when I signed up for this gig. Whatever happened to the daytime soap operas and game shows? Will Justin marry Laura? Is Luke cheating on Jordan? Does Suzanne from Tallahassee want to be a millionaire? For now, these questions will go unanswered, at least for me.
Hopefully I’ll get the hang of it soon, for I have seen the enemy, and he is me. If you have suggestions, advice, or a good meatloaf recipe I hope you won’t hesitate to share. I’ve met a lot of moms the last couple of years and my admiration for what you do has now gone through the roof. Speaking of going through the roof, that crash I just heard upstairs should probably be investigated and the one to do it is me. So back into the battle I go. Watch out kids, there’s a new sheriff in town, and his name is dad.
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