Small Things

Remember your first piece of bubble gum? I have often watched my children experience things completely new to them. Frequently, when watching my children, I find myself accessing my childhood memory bank and wondering. I wonder if the pleasure I remember upon first trying new things and the memory I have of it will be similar to my childrens' memories 30 years from now. Some childhood items I recall with particular fondness and happy memories are;

1) My first pony ride - excitement and exhilaration
2) My first Ginger Ale - fresh taste with bubbles
3) Maple Syrup - Sweet nectar and unbelievably delicious
4) Wrestling with my grandmothers dog - great friend
5) Fresh smell of cut grass - Clean and invigorating
6) First visit to Fenway Park - Heaven on earth
7) Glass of grape juice - Sweet, slightly tart, made my taste buds come alive
8) Petting a cow - Soft eyes, coarse stiff hair
9) Driving a go cart - Feeling of freedom,independence
10) Camping in a tent - Looking at the stars, amazement

As an adult, I tend to take the small things in life for granted. However, when I try to view those same things through my childrens eyes coupled with my childhood memories, those small things again become magical and wonderful and the world becomes such a fun place to be. Thank God for the perspective of our children.

Domestic Chores

As a work from home Dad the bulk of the household chores have become my responsibility. I'm not quite sure how it happened but I can guarantee you that my wife knows. That girl is crafty and somehow outflanked me while I was looking the other way. I feel like Ross Perot's old running mate, Admiral Stockdale when he said with a confused look on his face "who am I and what am I doing here?". The Viet Congs infamous Charlie couldn't carry my wife's (uh.. now mine) laundry basket. Let's just put it on the record, and this hurts, she is smarter than me.

Accepting my defeat, I plod on with my assigned chores. There's something to be said for a gracious loser. In my own way I've made the defeat a victory. Now I get to pick the laundry detergent (Mountain Fresh Spring Air Flower Lilac Scent Bloom) and I get to choose the fabric softener too. Yeah, get some of that. Meals?, what I want to cook. No more questioning whether the milk purchased had the latest spoil date stamped on the top or whether it came from the bottom of the grocery store milk cooler. I'm in control of that now. So am I really the loser? You be the judge.

However, taking on the role of domestic maven has provided it's challenges. There are these little tasks that have sub-components that need to be done if you want to accomplish the task properly. Remembering all the while, if it's done improperly my wife knows.

Today was laundry day at my house. I have two little girls ages two and five. That fact alone increases the time required for this chore by two hours. How could that be you might ask. I certainly would have asked that question prior to my defeat. Little girls have lots and lots of little clothing things. Each little clothing thing must be folded. What about little girl underwear. The size difference between 2T and 5T is almost indistinguishable to the naked eye. So then you hunt down the size tag to see which child's pile get this particular pair of little girl panties. I don't know who the Einstein is who manufactures and selects the tag location for small girls underwear, but they need to do a load of laundry and then rethink the whole the damn thing. The tag is about an eigth of the size of the paper fortune in a fortune cookie. Upon washing, the tag rolls up like a caterpillar at being touched. So you get a pair of needlenose pliers to hold the tag taut enough to find the identifying number. Then the printed number is the size of a mustard seed. I had to break out my litle girls pirate telecope to read the thing. I'm still not sure I got them all right. But time was a wasting and I had other chores to do. What would my wife say if I didn't have her dinner ready when she got home? Listen, I've already acknowledged the fact that she can outsmart me. What am I going to look like when she asks me what's for dinner and I timidly break out some weak leftovers? She's going to start asking questions. I'm going to then start stammering about little girls panty tags? She'd probably Baker Act me.

In the kitchen I can hold my own and cooking is fun for me. I've got the skills of Hop Sing on Bonanza with the temperment of Gordon Ramsay. Not only is my cooking critiqued every night, but so are the ingredients I choose to use. Last night was Fajita night. I'm chopping up the onions and green bell peppers. It's all just starting to saute' and filling the air with an aroma I found to be pleasent. My five year old pulls herself away from Dragon Tales long enough to wander in the kitchen. She innocently makes the statement, "that smells nasty". Trying to supress a Gordon Ramsayesque response, I do my best Rachel Ray, "You're goin' to love it". She wasn't convinced. So when it came time to eat, I pulled a trick out of my wife's playbook. Disguising the chicken, peppers and onions by wrapping them in the tortilla so the filling couldn't be seen. She took one bite and had found her bliss. Expressing my disbelief at how much she liked it she said "don't know what else to say Daddy. How can I thank you?" Now, tell me... did I get outflanked?