A WEEKEND OF WORK

Hey, here’s a tip for you dads out there: If your wife goes away for the weekend, when she returns, don’t tell her about how exhausting it is to hang with kids for two straight days. You will get little sympathy.

I took part in the two-day kidfest last weekend, when my wife went to Atlanta for a wedding shower. The original plan was for the whole family to go to Atlanta. I would be in charge of kid wrangling at the in-law’s house. But when the logistics starting getting complicated, I just opted to stay home and spend a nice weekend, just the kids and me.

My wife left first thing in the morning, so I was in charge of breakfast. This was not a problem for me, since this is my usual job. Task No. 1 solved.

Of course, after breakfast is normally where I turn the reins over to my wife. I go to work, and the kids go to...school? Work, maybe? Something.

Anywho, once we finished breakfast, I decided to consult with my No. 2 for the weekend, my daughter. “So, what should we do, Allie?”

“ICE CREAM!!!!”

Perhaps she was too hastily appointed second in command.

After an hour or so debate on whether we should follow breakfast with ice cream, we opted to go to the store. And, as usual, I employed this simple technique for having perfectly behaved children: “For every minute you are good, I’ll buy you something.”

When we got home, Allie announced that it was Play Time. Little did I know that there are very strict rules to Play Time. And they change a lot. For some reason, I was not allowed to laugh.

After Play Time, it was lunch and naptime. Parker was a willing participant in naptime. Allie was not. And, thus, Daddy was not.

So I spent the bulk of Parker’s naptime trying to convince Allie that naptime for everyone would be a great idea. She did not agree.

When Parker woke up, I decided to load the kids up and head up to the park. It’s a beautiful fall day, and everyone should go hit the slides and swings and such. Again, not sure what I was thinking. Tracking two children, one of whom routinely falls down, is no easy task without a 1:1 adult:kid ratio. But the most difficult part of the park excursion was leaving. When BOTH children decide they want to stay, it’s a two-on-one battle that, quite frankly, I barely won.

By the end of the day, everyone was fairly well tuckered out. And as you know, tired children are sweet, kind and gentle.

Ha! Tired children are like savage little Tasmanian devils. They kick, bite, spit and throw peanut butter.

After finally getting kids to sleep, I assured myself that on Sunday, I would take a far more sensible approach to the day.

I apparently forgot that when I woke and decided to take the kids out for a pancake breakfast.

When we got back from breakfast, I decided, for some strange reason, that we would all rake the yard. Children love raking the yard. Or, more appropriately, children love kicking through your neatly constructed leaf piles while holding onto rakes. Oh, but when THEY have a leaf pile and Daddy jumps in, it’s suddenly Crytown, USA.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of more Play Time (this time, no laughing AND no talking), a fantastically fun game called Dive into the Pile of Clothes Daddy is Folding, and a birthday party for one of Allie’s friends. Needless to say, Mommy came home to a very tired household. I told my wife that chasing after two kids for two days really wears you out. As for her reaction to that, let me put it this way: She would not have been very good at Play Time, because she laughed an awful lot after that.

CORRECTION: Last week, I told you that my wife had bought our daughter a Strawberry Shortcake clock. It is, in fact, a Hello, Kitty digital clock. As it turns out, every other item in my daughter’s room is of the Strawberry Shortcake variety, so you can see how such an error could be made.