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I consider myself a very capable dad. I can change a diaper with the best of them. Bath time? No problem. Dinner time? Have it whipped up in two minutes.
But I always have the luxury of knowing that my wife is there if I need backup. She has gone away for a weekend before, but the kids and I did just fine. The main reason for that, of course, is that weekends are designed to let children be free-range. Just turn ’em loose in the yard. If it’s above 60 degrees, cut on the lawn sprinklers and you take care of play time and bath all at once.
But this time would be different. Because this time would take place during the week. And that means getting them ready for school and all of that fun stuff. And I am fairly certain the school would not be happy if I opened the door, shoved my kids in the hall and cut on a sprinkler.
Again, let me remind you that I am, for all intents and purposes, the single greatest whirling dervish of kidly preparation the world has ever known. But I have not done a weekday without my safety net.
We woke up bright and early. Well, my kids woke up bright and early. And then I woke up. Knowing that I would not have the See Who Can Pretend to be Asleep the Longest Contest with my wife, I decided to get up and tackle the day.
First order of business: Breakfast. I started to head downstairs, and Allie reminded me that the first order of business should, in fact, be a little housecleaning with Parker. I believe the phrase she used was, “Change Parker or I can’t eat.” Good point.
So after a quick pit stop, we headed down to breakfast. I asked my kids what they wanted for breakfast. “OATMEAL!!!” said Allie. “NOOOO!!!” said Parker. (He’s in the requisite No Phase. I am employing the same technique I used with my daughter when she went through the No Phase which is to ask questions that I want an answer of “NOOOO!!!” to. “Is anyone cooler than Daddy?” “NOOOO!!!” “Will you ever root for teams other than the Braves, Falcons or Bama?” “NOOOO!!!” “Are you ever going to want get a driver’s license?” “NOOOO!!!” I have him on video, so I am pretty sure that constitutes a legally binding contract.)
Since “NOOOO!!!” was not something in my recipe repertoire, I opted for oatmeal. Not the best of ideas, since oatmeal + 2-year-old = paste-like goo in hair. Minor hiccup. Easily solved with a dish rag. Or getting him near the dog. Six of one, half a dozen of the other.
While the kids were finishing their breakfast, I whipped together some lunches. “Daddy, Parker doesn’t go to lunch. I do.” Duly noted. Only one lunch needed. Why she couldn’t have told me this BEFORE I made the second sandwich is a mystery.
Realizing time was becoming a factor, I kicked it into hyperdrive. I swooped Parker up and dressed him. “Those are pajamas, Daddy.” Gotcha. Jeans. T-shirt. Let’s roll.
After putting on proper clothes, I loaded the kids in the car and headed on to school. We were pulling out of the subdivision and Allie said, “Daddy, I don’t have shoes.” OK, at that point, I decided maybe we should set aside some time learn the word “proactive.” It might help Daddy to know some things beforehand.
When I walked into school, I went through the ritual, which was to peel Parker’s Velcro-like grip off of me and put him in his classroom. He has a required tantrum before he can enter the room. Great show he puts on. But it’s kinda hard to feel sympathy for someone who is, essentially, saying, “I don’t want to go color and play on the playground and have snacks.” Not exactly a sweatshop life there.
I then walked Allie to her class, or at least part of the way, when she turned and said, “Daddy, I know where the class is.” Well excuse me, little Miss Independent.
Once the kids were in their respective rooms, I headed out the door. I called my wife to see how her morning was going. She asked how we had done this morning, and I told her that we managed, so far as I could tell. “I meant to put Allie’s clothes out before I left. What did you dress her in?”
Wow, at that point I realized that there was one major to-do that I, quite frankly, did not tend to. “Uh...a dress...I think?”
“You don’t know what she’s wearing?”
“No, it’s a dress. Spring colors. Looks cute.”
My wife called my bluff: “Which dress?”
“OK, I don’t know. I think Allie dressed herself. Or she may be wearing pajamas. But I think it’s a dress.”
My wife sighed. I completely understood. As it turned out, she was dressed fine. A dress, in fact, was the correct answer. And I think I did remarkably well, all things being considered. Even had I goofed the whole dressing-Allie, she would have told me about it. She would have told me after the fact, but she would have told me nonetheless.