Not Today: I was feeling a little tired from an early wake up and a busy day. Around mid afternoon I yawned the biggest yawn I could muster and told my 3-year-old I felt like I could take a nap. She replied, “Daddy, you can sleep at dark time.”
This Isn’t Your Bed– When putting my 3-year-old down to bed and after saying our prayers, I pretended to be sleeping. My 3-year-old bluntly says, “Daddy, this isn’t your bed.”… Can I use that line the next time you waddle into our room?
At Least She’s Listening- My wife and I spend a great deal of time trying to teach our daughters to be responsible for their own things; you know, an effort to avoid the tireless battle of, “Daddy! Mama! I can’t find my…socks, shoes, backpack, homework, lunch bag…toys…”…
My 3 daughters and I had just gotten home from a trip to the grocery store. I had bought some ingredients for that night’s dinner. Somehow, those ingredients went missing. After about 10 minutes of looking, I thought to myself…out loud… “Where did that bag go?… Dog gone it…where did they go? I can’t find it….” My oldest replies, “I don’t know daddy. I’m not in charge of your bag. It’s probably in the last place you put it. Where did you put?”…Thanks kiddo…
Too Early For This Kind of Drama: My oldest daughter who just turned 8, is at that age where life should still be simple but is on the precipice of finding out otherwise-
My oldest daughter: I don’t think we’re friends anymore…(speaking of her best friend.. she’s had for ages…since like…kindergarten)…
Me: Why is that?
Her: Because What’s-her-face-who-likes-to-make-trouble said she gets to play with my best friend for 3 days out of the week…Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, while I only get to play with her Monday and Friday…and then she was saying this boy likes me as a girlfriend but I don’t like him like that. I just like him as a friend. I’m too young for that (oh thank you LORD…and yes you are)..and it’s not fair!
Me (nodding in confusion and understanding all at the same time):…um…hmmm…. Well..I’ll tell you what…
Here are my thoughts…
(Mrs. Wifey!!??!!…Our daughter wants to talk to you.)
One of my daughter’s isn’t afraid to express herself… For better or worse….After waking up earlier than normal, my daughters were playing with their toys before it was time to get ready for school…
My expressive daughter: Daddy, do we have any waffles left?
Me: I’m not sure…
Her: Why don’t you look?
…Excuse me…What did you say? My defiant personality wanted to kick in the door fully armed with a storm of wrath… Breathing deeply, I politely opened the freezer and prepared the last waffle remaining…
Me: Here you go…(as politely as I could muster) That is not how you talk to people…that is not how you talk to me…Next time, please and thank you are all you need to say.
That polite talk might have to turn into a stern talk…
My expressive daughter: Mama… do we have any milk?
My wife: I’m not sure.
My expressive daughter: Why don’t you look?
….Excuse me??? Might be time to turn that dependence into independence… That or she just wakes up hangry (when anger and hungry join together).
Hot Chocolate Will Never Be The Same
One day my youngest daughter randomly broke the silence with, “Daddy, I went poopy and it was runny and I peaked at it and it looked like hot chocolate except no marshmallows.”…. I think I’ll stick with my coffee.
Signs of aging begin to show when you lose track of what’s popular in kid lingo…Apparently there is this thing called a…dap?? (Can’t be a dab because that’s a fist bump…right? Is it still called a dab/fist bump? Do fist bumps even happen anymore?) I don’t get it but it’s hilarious to watch… If you don’t know what it is…The left arm raises straight at an angle above the head while the right arm bends with the hand covering the eyes…. I saw my daughters doing it one day.
Me: What are you doing?
Them: It’s called the Dap..
Me: The what?
Them: The Dap.
Me: What’s the Dap? Where’d it come from?
Their explanation is even more hilarious!
Them: Um…. it came from somebody that had a really huge sneeze…
Helping Hand: My oldest daughter had somehow managed to get herself stuck in a treasure chest full of stuffed animals. Gut bursting with giggles, she yelled out, “Can someone help me?” I asked my 3-year-old who was busy twirling in circles if she could lend a hand. She ran over, yanked off her sister’s sandals and ran away laughing.