Skip to main content

Willow's plan to make me a stupid human

Busy and (yawn) tired.
It has become quite obvious to me lately that that is the state Willow prefers I be in, busy and (yawn) tired. She doesn't want me rested and alert (or at least coherent). No. She wants me on the move (move, move, move, move, move) and ragged.
That's the Daddy she prefers: The Daddy whose world is not at all sharp and in focus; she wants the Daddy whose world is all fuzzy around the edges, a blur.
She wants me to be one of those stupid humans in the Liberty Mutual Insurance commercials ("Humans. We mean well, but we're imperfect creatures ... It's amazing we've made it this far.") Here's the commercial:



Well, Willow has it her way: I am, indeed, a stupid human.
Here's a few examples, just in the last two days, of how she's accomplished the task:
  • I chased her around the house, quite in vain, trying to pull her nightgown off over her head yesterday morning. Exhausting.
  • She dropped her Cheerios, one by one, over the side of her high chair.
  • She dripped milk, drop by drop, on my iPhone.
  • She emptied the sheets, the diapers, the toiletries, the DVDs, the recycling and the books from their respective containers.
  • She climbed atop the forbidden chest time and again.
  • She woke up crying four times during the wee hours.
And here's the result of her efforts:
  • I slammed the hatch on our SUV shut, thus slamming the bike rack on the hatch down atop my noggin.
  • I scooped the used coffee grains from our reusable filter BACK INTO the coffee maker.
  • I poured half a box of uncooked spaghetti noodles onto the floor, somehow missing the 4-quart pot the water was boiling in.
  • While mowing under our sunflowers, I slammed my head into a huge and immovable sunflower head. Then I did it again. And again.
  • On the way to the local park, I drove the opposite direction, half-way to Nashville.
  • I left the eggs at the Kroger checkout, then a few days later, I left the apple juice at the Kroger checkout. Then a few days later, I left the chocolate milk at the Kroger checkout (at least I realized it when I was still in the parking lot this time).
Yep, it's true.
It's amazing I've made it this far.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

With baby comes packing (and a lot of it)

Willow, Che and I are traveling to see the grandparents, aunts, cousins and Mos (or is it Moes or is it Mo's or is it Moses?) in Henderson, Tenn., this weekend. And that brings up one of the big differences between being a couple without kids and being a couple with kids: packing for travel (they even have an app for that, God bless us packing-weary parents). Back in my pre-child days, packing hardly mattered, probably taking up 1 zillionth of a tenth of a percent of my brain capacity to do (six days equals six days of socks and underwear plus some T-shirts, some shorts, a pair or two of pants, put on some shoes, throw in some toothpaste, and I was off). That's hardly the case anymore. Take, for example, if you have a spit-up-prone baby. Do you take two burp clothes, four, eight or, maybe, 16? Better take 24. And how many diapers do you take? Or wipes? Do I need to take baby medicine? Is it going to be cold or warm or cold and warm or warm and hot then ... AACK!!! You get t...
2 comments
Read more

Willow's morning of play, play, play exhausts poor, old Dad

Willow's playtime universe continues to grow. Rapidly. Witness. In the midsummer heat, I take Willow out to our shaded backyard in the morning to play. And play she does. She climbed into her swing first. After I pushed her for a while, I got her out of the swing and put her in her wagon so she could help me convey bags of sand from the garage to the backyard to fill her sandbox (part of her new swing set) and her water table sandbox. She took rake and shovel and played in the sandbox for a bit. Then she waddled over to the deck and started to climb the steps to get to the water table. She played in the sand a bit, but most of her time was used dipping water up and out of the water part of the water table. Most the water ended up all over her. After that she wanted off the deck to go back to swinging. Instead I retrieved the new tricycle Cherish procured from a Franklin recycle center and cleaned it up. Willow loved the trike, holding on to the handle bars while I pushed her...
Post a Comment
Read more

Willow's tooth-brushing goes from rocky to rocking

Willow has been giving us fits for months now about brushing her teeth before bed. She's usually better brushing her teeth in the morning, meaning it's less like wrestling an alligator for me, but at night before bed, she turns into the Tasmanian Devil. We've tried making the tooth-brushing as fun as possible for her, but I usually end up holding her against her will while I try, mostly in vain, to pry the toothbrush into her clamped-shut mouth. Sometimes we give up. We've tried singing to her. Dancing. Story-telling. Tickling. Nothing has really worked. But Mommy might have hit on the solution. A singing toothbrush. Yesterday Mommy brought home a toothbrush that belts out Queen singing "We Will Rock You." This toothbrush ROCKS! And Willow loves it. We tried it out last night, and on the inaugural brushing, Willow brushed her teeth successfully all by herself. She danced the whole time too. And I stayed bruise free (I also, surprisingly, had more energ...
Post a Comment
Read more