Let me start with this: I love being a dad of little girls.
It’s just cool. I do sometimes feel like an island in my own house though. Here’s the total roll call: I’m currently living with a beautiful wife, 2 daughters, and 2 female dogs. The only tiny sliver of masculinity I had (until old age got the best of him back in April) was my buddy Cosmo, and he was neutered so… I’m going to say that still counted.
Needless to say, I’m the only fountain of testosterone in the dwelling. Even so, I love coming home from work and hearing, “Daddy!” when I step inside, as well as the pitter-patter of my almost 2-year-old rounding the corner for a hug. I pick her up, give her a hug and a kiss, then walk to the kitchen where dinner is usually about to commence. But…
It’s about this point in the evening that it all seems to fall apart. Those squeals of joy I heard just moments ago announcing my arrival have now transformed into shrieking, screaming, and general chaos.
My wife and I corral the troops to their seats and we set their plates in front of them while we go to make ours. My 4-year-old informs us that she doesn’t like whatever Brandi fixed and she’s NOT going to eat it. Lucky for me, B’s a phenomenal cook and I can count on one hand all the dishes over the past 16 years that haven’t been delicious. We tell her to try at least one bite of everything. She says no. We tell her it’s yummy and she’ll like it. She takes one bite without letting it cool and starts to cry because it’s too hot.
Meanwhile, the toddler has crawled down from her seat and is chasing our old deaf dog who can’t hear her coming. She thinks it’s the funniest thing ever, and the poor dog has been very tolerant so far. I grab her, put her back in her seat and tell the oldest that her food is now cool and she can start eating again. She promptly informs us she has to go use the restroom (which she vehemently denied needing to do just moments ago). We won’t see her for at least 15 minutes. I turn back to face my youngest and help her eat.
She’s gone, hightailing it to find something else in our house more interesting than a plate full of well-balanced nutrition.
I’ve only been home 20 minutes and somehow the vast majority of my energy has been yanked from me. My beautiful bride deals with this all day, every day. I don’t know how you moms do it day after day, but I have a message from all of us gross, smelly, obnoxious, one-track minded, knuckle-dragging Neanderthals.
Thank you.
