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Thursday, August 26, 2010

You Can't Leave Your Hat On

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife


Back to school; back to reality.


I returned Sunday night from a Writer's Retreat called Killer Nashville.  It's all about writing mystery thrillers about psycho killers and serial murderers.


Not exactly what I write about.  But grand fun all the same.


Especially, the Cadaver Dogs.


Kayso I get home on Sunday night and The Bean and The Butterfly are excited about their back-to-school clothes.


The Butterfly sports a shirt with a HUGE Butterfly on the side.  It sort looks like she's being pollinated. 


The Bean wears a little Catholic School Girl skirt with a matching Plaid Newsboy Hat.


I think I found the exact hat on the Internet!!!


I think I spelled 'Plaid' correctly!!!


Kayso, she's pretty psyched about this new outfit, especially the hat.


Personally, I have learned to NEVER TRUST GIRLS IN HATS.  


But that's just me.


Apparently, The Bean's school shares a similar feeling about hats.  They won't let her wear her hat in class.


But she's cool with that.  Because she's cool.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Another Milestone

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife



The Bean is far braver than I.


Having grown up in the 80's, I tried (and often failed) to be fashion forward.


Or, at least, fashion current.


I owned Parachute Pants back when they were in style (barely).  

Damn, I was cool.

But The Bean passed another Little Girl rite this Saturday.  She got her ears pierced.  


I neither had the stomach nor the charisma to pull off pierced ears.  What if it hurt?  What if I was permanently damaged.  What if I did it and it ceased being cool? 


What if Johnny Depp didn't make 20 Pirates of the Caribbean movies?


So I wussed on getting an earring.  The Bean did not.


She held onto the DW's hand and grimaced a little.  But before you knew it, both ears were donned with shiny blue glass.


She gleamed brighter than the faux stones ever could.


The Butterfly doesn't want her ears pierced.  Ever.


I tell her that when she's ready, I'll do it with her.


I hope that Johnny Depp makes a lot of Pirate films.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Dog Pizza

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife

The Buffett Dog!!!

The Buffett Dog (!!!) celebrated his first birthday in style.  His cousin Bolt was on hand, and he got a good run on the beach.


And he got his very own special treat - a Dog Birthday Cake - which kinda ended up looking like a pizza.  Hint - the Pepperoni-looking things are actually Canine Canadian Bacon.


They look yummy.


They're not.


Anyway, Buffett is beside himself.  He woofs (sorry) down the Doggie Cake and happily goes to play outside.


It is about 95 degrees at the beach.  Buffett is in full winter coat.  So he starts to shed.


A lot.


Combing the fur is tranquil to the DW.  It's like crack.  The more she brushes, the more tufts come out.  


End of Day One - Buffett is minus enough hair to make another whole dog.


End of Day Two - More of the same


End of Day Three - More of the same


End of Day Four - The DW has gone entirely mental.  Her black jeans are covered in golden-blonde doggie cast-offs.


She looks like a crazy cat lady.


You know, except with dogs.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Ballet Moms Go Berserk

s always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife

Getting into Miss Mary’s ballet class is akin to getting into Yale.  There is a long waitlist.


Last year, The Darling Wife arose herself at 5 AM on a Saturday to sign the girls, The Bean and The Butterfly up for ballet.


She was number 86 in line.


So this year, the DW had a plan.  Camping out.


Insane.  Right?


So this year, she leaves the house at four in the afternoon and arrives at the studio.  She is number 36 in line.


36?


Yes, 36.


She has a laptop computer in tow.  A cooler filled with the basic necessities of the Atkins Diet – some kind of meat and some kind of cheese.  And a stack of books to read.  None of which were written by Yours Truly.


Rrrr.


There are men camping as well.  She will mention to me later that it was sexy for them to have camped out for their daughters.


Great.


The men, it seems, have brought a poker table and beer and cigars.  The other mommies are sipping Chardonnay in Styrofoam coffee cups.


The DW is lacking in wine.  This will not stand.


So she calls my Dad.  “Please bring me some wine,” she says.


Apparently, it’s too much trouble to stop at a store, so he brings her the best French wine he has.


“Thank you,” the DW says.  “This is for your granddaughters,” she reminds him.


This all happens around 7:00.  The mommies are already restless.  They are jockeying for position, quizzing each other as to which classes their precious pumpkins are enrolling in.


The man at the front of the line will have none of it.  “I’m not supposed to say a word,” he says.


The night eventually passes.  A bottle of French wine bites the dust.  Mommy bonding occurs.


And despite the incredible odds, The Bean and The Butterfly land in Miss Mary’s class.


And ballet Dads are sexy…


…still can’t get past that one.

Monday, June 21, 2010

The Bride

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
 
My cousin got married on the Seagrove beach last week. It was the first wedding The Bean and The Butterfly. attended.
 
It was a beautiful ceremony on the non-oil soaked beach along the Florida Panhandle.

And the Groomsman got to wear Tommy Bahama shirts and linen pants.  And no shoes.  
 
Sweet!
 
The reception was very nice as well. And The Bean was taking notes.

"I want to sit next to her," says The Bean. "I want to be near the Bride."

"But Bean," I say, "she needs to sit next to her husband."


"I can sit on the other side," she says.

I agree to let her walk over and see The Bride up close. She considers this to be a good compromise.

The Bean is wearing the second best dress in the room - white linen with a little tie in the back.

She looks good and she knows it.

The Bean inserts her cute self into the wedding party.

Pictures are taken and she has the biggest smile you've ever seen.

The Bean at a wedding.

Yikes!




Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Flash Forward

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
 
The Bean had her First Communion last Sunday.  

She was decked out in a beautiful white dress, complete with white High Heels and a Veil.

Yes, a Veil.

She was absolutely stunning, A Vision of loveliness, looking much older than I wanted to admit.

At one time, we walked down the center aisle of the church with her little hand in mine.

And I get choked up.  Big Time.

Walking her down the aisle evoked a frightening feeling in me.  It was as if I was giving her away.

I get choked up.  Fragments of tears appear in my eyes.  I don't want to give my baby away.

But she's beaming her wonderful smile.  "Daddy," she asks, "Are you OK?"

I nod that I am, but I am not.

"It's OK, Daddy," she says.  "You won't have to do this again for a long time."

I smile. "I hope not," I say.

She motions for me to bend down so she can kiss my cheek.  "See, Daddy," she says.  "It will all be all right."

I tell her the car will be full of gas when that day comes.  She pretends to understand.

"Don't cry on my dress," she advises.  "I want to look perfect."

And she does.

Monday, May 3, 2010

The Butterfly...Live at Budokan

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy
 
We've enrolled The Bean and The Butterfly in an after-school program called Budokan.

It's a Martial Arts-style program where the girls go and do their homework, then learn Aikido.

Aikido is, apparently, where you learn to hit people with sticks.  

The Bean and The Butterfly are getting pretty good at hitting people with sticks.

Why, you may be asking, would we want them to learn to hit people with sticks?

"It's for their self esteem," The DW says.

I must admit, hitting people with sticks does sound like fun.  I could probably make a list.

However, I'm not sure why we want The Butterfly to hit anything, with sticks or otherwise.

Case and point.  When we good to the grocery, The Butterfly likes to carry things.

Last time, she carried a 20 pound bag of dog food through the parking lot.

That is more than 1/3 of her weight.

That's scary.  Army Ant scary.

So, The Butterfly is carrying this 20 pound bag of dog food through the lot.  It's cute.  I laugh.

Other people fail to see the humor though.  They flash me dirty looks.

So I try to take it away.  "Daddy," she says, "I got this one."

And why do I want The Butterfly to learn to hit people with sticks?

Thursday, April 22, 2010

The Dog Did My Homework

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy
 
The DW and I were watching Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution last night.
I do a mean impression of Jamie Oliver.

"I'm a chef.  I have an accent.  You should listen to me."

I actually have the impression down pretty good.

The DW and I are watching how the Fattest City In America deals with The Naked Chef.  And are actually interested.

But then The Bean comes down the stairs.  She has forgotten to do her homework.

It's math.  About using big numbers between 300 and 200.

She has to write a story about an ambulance driving past things.

We settle on dogs, cats, birds and people.

The Bean doesn't know how to spell 'birds'.

"B-i" she says, and trails off.

"What letter comes next?" I ask.

She isn't sure.

The Buffett puppy barks.  "Ruff", he barks.

"Is it an 'r', Daddy?"

I smile.  "Yes, Bean, it is."






Monday, April 12, 2010

Beach Music

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy
 
Just so you know, the Buffett puppy is a Golden Retriever.  His real name is Beach Music.

He has never been to the Beach nor has he shown any particular affinity towards Music; however it is all a matter of time.

So last week, we loaded the Minivan (yes, a Minivan - sorry if that shattered your impression of me) and took Buffett to the Beach.

Crate time for 6+ hours went better than expected.  The Bean and The Butterfly were watching a kid movie called Hotel for Dogs on the Minivan's DVD player.

I suspect Buffett was watching as well.

Buffett did not know what to make of the Beach.  He walked close to the water, then retreated as the tide came in.
Kind of like one of those birds.

But after a short while, he caught on.  He dashes out into the sea and emerges minutes later covered in saltwater and sand.

Happy Puppy!

Dirty Puppy as well.

When it's time to leave, our Puppy is filthy.  His lustrous toasted-marshmallow coat is awash of brown sand.

And he smells.  A lot.

So we have to give him a thorough bath when we return to Beach House.

And those dreaded Georgia mosquitoes are out in force.

For those of you who don't know, Georgia has two types of mosquitoes - the kind small enough to navigate through a screen door, and the kind big enough to open it.

And they bite.  The DW and I end up covered in red welts as we dry him off.

But we have a very Happy Puppy.  And that's all that matters.

Monday, April 5, 2010

About The Doughnut

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy
As I wrote in Ballet Hair, I am utterly useless when it comes to anything hair related.  All of my her fled my head prematurely (at least in my eyes), and the cool coif I used to wear is now about six inches short of a Comb Over.

That's right.  Even if I wanted a Comb Over, I couldn't grow one.

But still.

So, I wasn't exactly looking forward to Ballet Hair and Make Up Day at the Studio.

Where in my Daddying contract does it state, that I should learn how to put make up on my little angels?  Certainly, this falls in the Mommying category.

Yet still, there I am, sitting on the floor learning about bobby pins and rouge and covering up eye brows so that they can be drawn back in.

This doesn't make an awful lot of sense to me.  But then I'm a Daddy.  A lot of things don't make an awful lot of sense to me.

There are Ballet Doughnuts.  Two kinds it turns out.  Those that are rubber and those that are foam.  God help you if you buy the rubber kind.  Apparently, that causes Worst Hair Ever.  And seeing as how I have a head start on Worst Hair Ever, I'm a Foam Man.

The Butterfly is not so sure.  She raises her hand.  "About the doughnut," she asks.  "Can I see it?" she asks.

The doughnut is passed around the room.  To The Butterfly's disappointment, the doughnut has nothing to do with actual doughnuts.

Probably a good thing to.  I wouldn't want a Krispy Kreme in my hair.  Then again, I don't have any hair.

The Bean's class is entirely different.  It's about make up.

There are eyebrow pencils.  And rouge.  And mascara.  And eye shadow.  Everything needed to "tart up" my 8-year-old Bean.

I'll admit it.  I kind of glazed over this class.  Didn't pay attention much.  Entertained The Butterfly.  Basically, watched the clock.

The Bean loved the make up.  So she put on her own.  
Mascara.  Only Mascara.  All over her entire face.

"Do I look beautiful?" she asks.

"Not especially," I reply.

She pouts.  "Well, if you'd learn to do this, then I would not have tried myself."

Point made.  

But I'm still way in over my head.  And I don't even have any hair to shield the blow.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Tourette's at 30,000 Feet

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy 

So, I'm traveling again.  Flying weekly to the middle of Massachusetts.  Away from the DW.  Away from The Bean and The Butterfly.

Flying out of the lovely Hartsfield-Jackson airport is always a challenge.  Especially when all the flights from the previous day were canceled.  Especially when you miss your flight.

All of the flights to Boston were booked.  For the entire day.  Tomorrow wasn't looking any better.  Stranded in Atlanta?  I can think of worse fates.

I'd just go home.  Hang out with The Bean.  Play with The Butterfly.  Spend a quality Sunday with the fam.

The DW was having none of it.  "How did you miss your flight?"

I explain that I thought I was on a later one.

The DW is unimpressed.  "Didn't you check your itinerary?" she asks.

"Apparently not," I reply.

"Well, you better figure out a way to get there."

I finagle a flight to Manchester, NH.  At 8:30 PM.  It was around 2 PM when I finagled it.

So time passes like molasses.  At last the hour nears. 

I settle into my seat and start to drift off.  "Pretzels!" somebody calls.

"Popcorn!" she yells again.

I momentarily think I'm at a Sporting Event.  But she never calls 'Beer!"

It turns out that three rows ahead of her, some guy is playing Family Feud on his computer.  She's volunteering answers.  FROM THREE ROWS BACK.

Turns out I was the only one trying to sleep.  The entire cabin got into the act.

Ain't traveling glam?

  

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Daddy - Daughter Dance

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy 
 
Every year or so, there is a night where the Daddies dress up and take their daughters to a ball.  
 
The theme this year was "A Night in Central Park".  The Bean and The Butterfly looked beautiful in their Princess-style dresses.  The men were all wearing ties.
 
Yes, ties.
 
All except for yours truly, who has all but forgotten to tie a tie.
 
Pre-party, I take the girls to Benihana.  The Butterfly hates Japanese food.

Except she doesn't.  She has yet to meet a Chicken Tempura she didn't like.

She eats all of her chicken and a half plate of Fried Rice.  And Ice Cream.  A big bowl of Ice Cream.

We get to the party and their are pony-drawn carriages that clop across the parking lot.

"Where do the horses go potty?" wonders a curious Bean.

She is informed that the horses are wearing diapers.  She makes a face.

"Are the diapers, like, full?"

She is informed that they are.

"That is so gross!"  I am inclined to agree.

We hit the Dance Floor and The Bean wants to dance.  She wants to be spun around just like the Princesses in the Disney movies.

The Butterfly, however, does not.  She wants to wrap herself around my leg and hide.

But then a song called "Cotton Eyed Joe" comes on.  The Butterfly apparently likes then song.  She jumps ON THE STAGE and DANCES. 

The Butterfly is following in her Daddy's footsteps.  

I've never met a stage I didn't like.

But I can't help but wonder.  What exactly is a Cotton Eyed Joe?
 

Monday, March 1, 2010

But Beanie, It's Cold Outside

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy 

OK, so now it snows in Atlanta.  Pretty sure that wasn't in the brochure.

But in Atlanta, when the first flake of the first flurry drifts innocently through the sky, the entire city shuts down.

This means SNOW DAY for the younger set, The Bean and The Butterfly included.

The DW goes to work.  She is a Super Trouper.  Yes, I mean that in ABBA sort of way.

But The  Bean and The Butterfly are strangers to snow.  They throw on their thick winter coats.  And their Crocs.

Yes, their Crocs.  

They want to make Snow Angels in the very place that The Buffett Puppy makes his poo patties.

Poop Angels?

And now I will attempt to channel Dean Martin.  With apologies, of course, to Dean Martin.

Daddy, we want to play
(But Beanie, it's cold outside)
It's a beautiful day
(But Beanie, it's cold outside)

The snow is a-falling
(But Beanie, it's cold outside)
The snow is a-calling
(But Beanie, it's cold outside)

It all looks so nice
(But Beanie, it's as cold as ice)
The flakes fall like rice
(But Beanie, that doesn't make any sense)

Daddy, put on your sweats
(But Beanie, it's so cold and wet)
And look for my hat
(But Beanie, I don't want to do that)

Daddy, let's go!
(But Beanie, it's cold outside)
Let's play in the snow!
(But Beanie, it's cold outside)

DADDY, LET'S GO PLAY IN THE SNOW!!!!

So, we play in the snow.

And it's cold outside.























Thursday, February 25, 2010

Upon the Kitty Catwalk

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife


The new job has begun.  And once again, I take to the skies.

I'll be traveling to beautiful Leominster, Massachusetts for the next six months - Sunday night to Thursday night out of town.  Away from The DW.  Away from The Bean and The Butterfly.


When I'm not writing blogs and when I'm not unemployed, I work with large computer systems.  Payroll systems.  


Yes, Payroll systems.

Shatter your image of me?


The Bean loves talking on the phone, so my being away is sort of a treat for her.  When she turned 7, we bought her a Barbie telephone.  She knows my cell number.


"Daddy," she says into her pink receiver, "are you writing more books?"


I am, in fact, writing a book.  But not a kid's book.  


Imagine a really dark thriller.  Only darker.


"You should write another Daddy, I Want book."


I agree that I should.


"Maybe this time Lily (the character in my books based on The Bean) can be in a Fashion Show."


"OK."


"And, of course, she wins."


"Of course."


"It can be called Daddy, I Want to be a Supermodel."


I tell her that I'll write more kid's books as soon as The DW starts to illustrate them.


The Bean takes it upon herself to torment her Mother about this.


I expect to catch hell when I get home.



Thursday, February 18, 2010

Crocodile Tears

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife


The Stay-At-Home-Dad is about to be employed.  This is generally a good thing.  The DW thinks so anyway.

However, this SAHD has grown accustomed to spending a lot of time with The Bean and The Butterfly.  I've been trying to spend extra time with them, knowing the clock is ticking on my one on one time with them.


Two years ago, I accepted an assignment in Australia.  I was away from home for six months, and with the 13 hour time difference, our contact was pretty sporadic.  The Bean asked The DW if Daddy was dead.


When I returned, I took some time off.  I wrote a few children's books and finished that novel which was stored in a computer folder called 'Unfinished Opuses'.  

Oh, and I started a blog.  But you probably already knew that.

This new job will send me on the road again, but thankfully, not for six months at a time.


I'm rejoining the workforce as a "Road Warrior".  That means every Sunday, I'll fly to Boston and return every Thursday.


The Butterfly doesn't quite comprehend this.  She thinks I'm going away again.


I soothe her the best I can.  I tell her it won't be like before.  I point to a map so she can see that Massachusetts is much closer than Australia.  I explain that she'll see me every weekend.  This calms her down.  


A little.


A bribe is in order.  "Now that Daddy has a job," I say, "I can take you to the Disney store."


She sniffs and decides that this is probably all right.  


"I'll miss you Daddy," she sniffs.


Not as much as I'll miss you.  Thank God for Skype.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

The Super Bowl Isn't Super

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife


My sister threw a Super Bowl party. It involved watching the game, eating too much, and watching commercials. Her husband is a great cook, so I was all ready to claim a spot on the sofa.


The Bean and The Butterfly were excited about the party. The Butterfly, in particular. She made a Happy Birthday card for The Bee (my sister's redheaded offspring).


Trouble is, The Bee's birthday is not in February. It's in August. 


Undaunted, The Butterfly makes the card.  "Here Bee," she says upon arrival.  "Happy Birthday!"


"It's not my birthday."


"Oh. Then why is there a party?"


The Bee says, "It's so we can watch commercials."


The Butterfly is confused.  "We don't watch commercials at home. We fast-forward them."


"We do that too.  But these are special commercials."


"Oh." The Butterfly watches a few commercials. It becomes apparent that these are not special commercials.  "I'm bored. Let's play Barbies.  


So maybe the commercials weren't all that special. But my little girls are.



Friday, February 5, 2010

Daddy, I Want to Go to School

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife


The Bean had her 8-year-old check up last week.  We learned how tall she was, how little she weighed, and that she can take two shots and a finger prick without breaking into hysterics.

Funny side note on this - they asked her to pee in a cup, which despite it being 'Gross', she performed without too much hassle.  Then she flushed the contents and had to do it all over again.


But this blog is about The Butterfly.  The Butterfly became sick the day before the appointment, so I could take them both at the same time. Convenient. 


The Butterfly was happy.  She was bouncing off the wall.  Not looking sick at all.  This always happens when I take her to the Doctor.


The Doctor asks her to look stick out her tongue.  The Butterfly sticks out her tongue.  The Doctor asks her to grip her finger.  I think I hear knuckles cracking.  Strong Butterfly.

The Doctor does that thing with the Stethoscope where she's supposed to take deep breaths.


"Your daughter may have pneumonia," announces The Doctor.  "But she looks pretty good for someone with pneumonia."

Thanks?  I guess?

She prescribes some kind of antibiotic that tastes like Medicine-flavored Bubble Gum.


'Yuck,' says The Butterfly.


So, The Butterfly is rewarded with every child's dream - getting to stay home from school.  For like a week.


Grammy weighs in.  "She's in Kindergarten.  It's not like she's going to get behind on her coloring."


But as The Butterfly gets better, she gets bored.  If she's sick, she's only allowed to do 3 things:


1. Watch TV
2. Color (We really don't want her getting behind.)
3. Sleep


She wants to play - she gets a shot of Motrin and is sent to bed.  She wants to jump - she gets a shot of Motrin and is sent to bed. She wants to run around the house - you get the idea.


Finally, last night she announces that she actually wants to go to school.  Bored Little Butterfly.


I'm not sure I've ever seen a 6-year-old want to go to school.  


She must fear she'll get behind on her coloring.


And be far away from The Medicine-flavored Bubble Gum.



Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Ghost Stories

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife


Christmas at Ito and Ita's.  'Ito' is short for Abuelito and 'Ita', for Abuelita.  These words mean 'grandfather' and 'grandmother' on Peruvian side of the family.

Ito and Ita were thoughtful enough to use shorthand so when The Bean and The Butterfly were two, they didn't need grammar lessons to address the DW's parents.


So, Christmas at Ita's. The DW's sister has made her semiannual emergence from the Great White North of Minnesota.  She brings even less frequent Husband as well as her children.


I haven't come up with cute, random nicknames for my nieces.  Probably because I don't see them very often.


My other niece is there as well.  We call her The Bee.  She is the same age as The Butterfly.


So, we have five little girls in the house, ranging in age from 5 to 7.  They do the logical thing.  They tell Ghost Stories.


The Bean tells them her way.


"Once upon a time in a magic kingdom*," she starts,"there was a Princess named Bean."


Only The Bean would cast herself as The Princess in a Ghost Story.


The Bean tells her story.  She triumphs over The Ghost in the end.


The Butterfly gets a turn to spin a yarn.  "Once upon a time in a magic kingdom," she says, "there was a Butterfly.  And a Princess named Bean."


The Bean sure has the other girls drinking The Bean Kool-Aid.




*Given my propensity of using Random Caps, you may wonder why 'magic kingdom' is in Lower Case.  This is because I fear the wrath of Disney Attorneys.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

The Evil Seal

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife


With the DW out of town for ten days, the clock was running down on the girls needing baths.

They were getting a little ripe, to put it mildly.  They were getting a little rank to put it more accurately.


The girls insisted on taking a bath in our bath tub.  Check that, the DW's bath tub.  It's Jacuzzi-styled with jets that blow the colored bubbles this way and that.

Colored water?  Surely the kids were not that dirty.


Well, they weren't.


They have these little bath beadie things that dye the water when you drop them in.  They look kind of like paintball pellets.


I sneak downstairs.  It is not only 5 o'clock somewhere.  It is 5 o'clock right here, right now.

I open a bottle of wine.  I'm not even finished pouring a glass.

Screams from above.  "Daddy!" The Bean screams.  "Daddy!"


I dash up the stairs and find that The Bean has a bath toy stuck in her hair.  It's one of those wind up toys where the flippers propel the toy through the water.


It's a seal.  An Evil Seal.


It's an Evil Seal that has attacked The Bean's hair.  It's all wound up in her hair and won't come out.  It is, in fact, still spinning.


It's The Butterfly's Evil Seal toy.  She looks sheepish.


But not really.  She's six-years-old and has seen some pretty funny things in her time, but this tops the list.


Resolution - I cut The Bean's hair.  She looks a little off-center now.


I try to discard The Butterfly's Evil Seal, but to no avail.


The Evil Seal lives, carrying a locket of Princess hair.









Friday, January 22, 2010

Remind Me Again How I Don't Like Mondays

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)

The Bean: Age 8
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife



Each year, the DW makes a trek to Vegas for a Trade Show.  She sets up the booth, irons the curtains and does pretty much whatever the Union lets her do.


This year she blew a fuse.  The Union Electricians found this quite funny.  They got straight to work solving her problem.


Right.


But I digress.  


When the DW goes to this trade show, I take care of the The Bean and The Butterfly.  With "Mama" out of town, I am met with predictable results.


The Bean handles this, for the most part, in stride.  The Butterfly, now there's a different story.


The Butterfly is 6 years old, but still is in her "Mama" phase.  She cries inconsolably.  There is nothing I can do to calm her down.


Did I mention The DW is in Vegas?  I think I did.  Did I mention she was in Vegas for 10 days?


Can you say Sad Butterfly?  Can you say Frazzled Daddy?


The Butterfly won't go to bed.  She claims to be afraid of the dark, which she isn't.  At least she doesn't claim to be afraid of buttons, like her cousin.


I strike a deal.  She can keep the lights on in her room as long as she stays in her room.  This is somehow acceptable.


The next morning, I'm having one of those dreams where the alarm is going off, but the noise is incorporated into my dream.  I could have slept forever.


Except The Bean comes in and wakes he up.  "Daddy!" she exclaims.  "Wake up!"


Garble, garble, garble.


I buy time.  "Go check on your sister."


The Bean vanishes and reemerges with the news.  "She's asleep on the floor."


I shuffle into her room and gently shake her.  "Butterfly," I say, "it's time to wake up."


No response.


"Really," I say a little more firmly.  "Get up."


"No!  It's still night time."


She has a point.  It's about 6:40 and pitch black dark.


"It is morning.  It's almost time for the bus.  You need to get dressed."


"No!"


So with The Butterfly still asleep, I dress her.  Her hair looks like, what's the word?  Ragamuffin. 



Meanwhile, The Bean is giving minute-by-minute time updates.  "It's seven o'clock!" she calls.  "Seven Oh One!"


We get to Stop (the hip name we've dubbed our bus stop) with seconds to spare.  This was on a Monday.  Only four more days this week.


Wash.  Rinse.  Repeat.