Thursday, February 19, 2009

Diary of a Single Father - Day 2

Dear Diary,
After a dinner of leftover lasagna, carrot sticks, blackberries, potato salad, and laffy taffy, I was cleaning up in the kitchen. The children were making a lot of ruckus in the living quarters and so I went to investigate for fear of shenanigans. When I arrived, the miniature hooligans were putting the finishing touches on their own stronghold. With my photographing device, I was able to capture an image of my daughter crawling in through the only entrance.

They undoubtedly thought their fort impregnable. Little did they know that I considered it the Bastille and me the French citizenry - their fortress would fall. I decided to start off stern but fair and so I informed them that the immediate surrender of their holdings would result in no formal punishment. No proper response was issued, but I understood the rebuke nonetheless. My son stared at me through a pair of binoculars as if to say "Do your worst, father, you shan't move us from this place without a fight!"

I realized that I could not hope to assault the walls they had crafted and come away unscathed, and so I opted for trickery rather than force. By making it sound as joyful as flying a kite on a warm summer afternoon, I lured them out by promising that they could help me finish cleaning a urine soaked davenport cushion. The offending cushions were supposed to be drying out after being washed, but were not completing their task hastily enough for me. I put boots on my night-clothed son and my pants-less daughter and bade them walk merrily on the cushions while strategically placed toweling cloths were on hand to soak up the evacuating moisture.

After the task was completed, I commanded the rug-rats to remove their boots and retire to their sleeping chambers. They boldly disobeyed by dancing a haughty jig for nearly a minute.

Nearing my own exhaustion, the children are finally squared away until sunrise. I will, myself, now retire for the night. My loving wife is set to return to me tomorrow. I look forward to abating my constant vigilance over my brood and once again sharing the responsibility.


Amanda said...

This made me laugh out loud! Thanks for the comical addition to my morning. "Torey, You're the best!" (When you read that, pretend that you're saying it the way Julia does...that's so much sillier!) I can't wait to be back to see you and the kids this evening. Hopefully the long drive will move along fast enough. See you later today!

Anonymous said...

Maybe some of the bailout money will trickle down so you can buy Julia some pants.

Your fully clothed Father

Torey said...

She could have a million pairs of pants...she would still find reasons to take them off. It doesn't bother me as long as she outgrows it soon.