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!

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.

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?

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."

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.

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.

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?