The Sins of the Father
Adam says he worries that someday he's going to apply for a job or something and he won't get it because they'll say they don't like him because of something they read about him in my blog. Just to give a little more ammunition, here are some Adam stories.
1) While leaving the Christmas Eve party, my kind, kind friend said, "Let me wrap up some treats for you to take."
I said, juggling Sweetie Pie, trying to calm her, "It might be hard right now. Adam and Doodles are staying--why don't you give some to them to take."
Fastforward a couple of hours. Sweetie is asleep on me. Adam and Doodles come bounding in the door. Adam says, "D. offered to pack up some cookies for us, but I told her not to bother since we're leaving town anyway on Monday."
I was most distressed as I yelled, "I'm here by myself and you turned down COOKIES?!?" Does anyone else out there see just how wrong this is?
2) In Miami Beach, we went out for ice cream. I got a waffle cone dipped in chocolate with sprinkles on it because I love cones, chocolate, and sprinkles. Doodles had a plain cone and he wanted to lick the sprinkles on mine, which I'm fine with, but I do like my sprinkles. We went back to the ice cream store a few days later, and this time I got Doodles his own sprinkle cone. Of course his own sprinkle cone isn't as good as someone else's so he didn't eat the cone. I turned to talk to my cousin and I notice that Adam is cleaning Doodles up. And the cone is slowly making its way in Adam's hand toward the garbage. "Don't! Don't! DON'T!!" I yell, as I dive for Adam's arm. But I'm too late and the sprinkled chocolate cone is in the garbage.
"I heard you say 'Don't!'" my cousin says.
"How could you throw that away?" I wailed.
Adam looks at me like I'm crazy. "I'll buy you another cone."
"It's not the same," I say, as I head for the counter, to get one anyway... except that Doodles's sprinkle chocolate cone was the LAST ONE! And did Adam show an iota of remorse? Yeah, right!
3) Walking aimlessly down Lincoln Road, Adam starts singing--for some reason that I can't remember now--"My cutie has a first name, it's C-W-E-E-T." I had to point out to him, actually, it's an S. We spell our daughter's name with an S. "Yeah," he said. "That's what I meant."
4) A few weeks ago we went to a synagogue play group. Adam and I took separate cars because he was going to take Doodles to a birthday party for the son of a friend of his afterwards. At the synagogue, there was a book fair upstairs so I excused Sweetie (with an S) and myself to go upstairs and do a little shopping. About a half hour later, Adam comes to find me. "I think Doodles and I are going to head out now."
"Oh," I said, "is Doodles getting cranky?"
"Nah," Adam replied. "Doodles is fine. I'm getting bored. I want to go."
Um, hello? Because I enjoy my time in music class. Or gymnastics class. Or for three hours at the playground. That's right. It's all about what interests us! Ahem.
(I know, I know: he's really a great dad and husband. He wakes up with Doodles, bathes him at night, puts him to bed, does the majority of the laundry, takes care of the garbage, the cars, and all things mechanical, and all sorts of saintly things, but really, how boring is that to read? So I won't bother to mention it.)
1) While leaving the Christmas Eve party, my kind, kind friend said, "Let me wrap up some treats for you to take."
I said, juggling Sweetie Pie, trying to calm her, "It might be hard right now. Adam and Doodles are staying--why don't you give some to them to take."
Fastforward a couple of hours. Sweetie is asleep on me. Adam and Doodles come bounding in the door. Adam says, "D. offered to pack up some cookies for us, but I told her not to bother since we're leaving town anyway on Monday."
I was most distressed as I yelled, "I'm here by myself and you turned down COOKIES?!?" Does anyone else out there see just how wrong this is?
2) In Miami Beach, we went out for ice cream. I got a waffle cone dipped in chocolate with sprinkles on it because I love cones, chocolate, and sprinkles. Doodles had a plain cone and he wanted to lick the sprinkles on mine, which I'm fine with, but I do like my sprinkles. We went back to the ice cream store a few days later, and this time I got Doodles his own sprinkle cone. Of course his own sprinkle cone isn't as good as someone else's so he didn't eat the cone. I turned to talk to my cousin and I notice that Adam is cleaning Doodles up. And the cone is slowly making its way in Adam's hand toward the garbage. "Don't! Don't! DON'T!!" I yell, as I dive for Adam's arm. But I'm too late and the sprinkled chocolate cone is in the garbage.
"I heard you say 'Don't!'" my cousin says.
"How could you throw that away?" I wailed.
Adam looks at me like I'm crazy. "I'll buy you another cone."
"It's not the same," I say, as I head for the counter, to get one anyway... except that Doodles's sprinkle chocolate cone was the LAST ONE! And did Adam show an iota of remorse? Yeah, right!
3) Walking aimlessly down Lincoln Road, Adam starts singing--for some reason that I can't remember now--"My cutie has a first name, it's C-W-E-E-T." I had to point out to him, actually, it's an S. We spell our daughter's name with an S. "Yeah," he said. "That's what I meant."
4) A few weeks ago we went to a synagogue play group. Adam and I took separate cars because he was going to take Doodles to a birthday party for the son of a friend of his afterwards. At the synagogue, there was a book fair upstairs so I excused Sweetie (with an S) and myself to go upstairs and do a little shopping. About a half hour later, Adam comes to find me. "I think Doodles and I are going to head out now."
"Oh," I said, "is Doodles getting cranky?"
"Nah," Adam replied. "Doodles is fine. I'm getting bored. I want to go."
Um, hello? Because I enjoy my time in music class. Or gymnastics class. Or for three hours at the playground. That's right. It's all about what interests us! Ahem.
(I know, I know: he's really a great dad and husband. He wakes up with Doodles, bathes him at night, puts him to bed, does the majority of the laundry, takes care of the garbage, the cars, and all things mechanical, and all sorts of saintly things, but really, how boring is that to read? So I won't bother to mention it.)
1 Comments:
I seriously think we are married to the same man...could it be? Particularly with number 4. The thing that does tap me off sometimes is when my husband calls in the middle of the day or before he leaves in the morning and says something like "why don't you guys go to the park today?"...like I am utterly incapable of providing enriching experiences for my 2.5 year old. AND, it's a slam because we live in frigid Michigan and I hate the cold, ergo D doesn't get much park time in the winter. But when I call from being out of town and D says "peanut butter and jelly sandwiches" for the 3rd night in a row, nobody seems to think that's a big deal! Ha!
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