I'll be heading out of town for a couple of weeks for work. Because Fawn will need to assume all of the day-to-day household responsibilities while I'm gone, I couldn't, in good conscience, burden her with the task of making a special day just for me, right before I leave. That, of course, can wait until I get back.
So, like those smart families that postpone Christmas by a couple of days, we're postponing Father's Day. That doesn't mean that I didn't get a couple of Father's Day surprises, though.
Surprise #1
Now that we're not living in hospitals, we're potty training Jade. It's time. We got her some big girl panties, which she loves to wear.
Mostly, Jade is an honest kid. There's only one thing that she lies about.
When I ask, "Jade? Do you need to go pee?" her response is always, "No!" - even if she needs to pee.
When she's wearing her big girl panties, I ask her this question over and over, hoping that, one day, she'll say, "Yes!" at which point I'll whisk her away to the potty where she'll pee and then we'll celebrate the joys of urinating while keeping the clothing dry.
This afternoon, Fawn was getting a little concerned about how long it had been since Jade went pee. Was she dehydrated? Is her new medication causing some sort of problem? She kept asking Jade if she needed to go, but Jade kept saying, "No!"
I was sitting at the table, eating a delicious rhubarb torte that Fawn had somehow managed to assemble this afternoon. Jade was sitting on Fawn's lap and decided that she wanted to sit on mine instead. I thought, It's so sweet that she wants to be with her daddy.
And then she peed.
We both watched as the water oozed through her clothes, into mine, and down onto the floor. I kept expecting it to end quickly, but the pee kept coming. The puddle was getting larger and larger until there was enough of a puddle to launch a canoe.
My neighbour, Cathy, who was sitting across the table, said, "Somehow, it seems like a very appropriate Father's Day gift."
Hm. Yeah.
Surprise #2
Our cat, Crook, is an indoor cat. At least, he's supposed to be. For many reasons, I'm not a fan of outdoor cats.
Unfortunately, Crook has mastered the art of escaping from the house. He's so good, that sometimes we don't even realize he's outside until we go outside and see him sitting in the yard. He never seems to go far and he'll sometimes come when called, which is good, but short of leashing him while he's in the house, there's no way to keep him indoors.
This evening, I left the back door open while we enjoyed our dinner. That way, he could come back into the house for his evening meal instead of scratching at the door to be let in.
I got up from my supper to get Jade's medication and, when I returned to my seat, I noticed a furry little present on the floor. Crook had killed and brought a freshly-killed field mouse into the kitchen. It was still soft and it was still warm.
As I carried the furry carcass back outside, Crook sat on the deck looking at me. He sat there with such pride; the mighty hunter, sharing his good fortune with his family.
I, on the other hand, felt like I had just been given the ugliest sweater in the world, but couldn't say anything about it because the knitter/gift-giver had just declared, "It's the best sweater I've ever knitted!"
How do you respond to something like that?
Do you scream, "Never knit me another sweater ever again!"
Do you politely decline and give the sweater back?
Do you pretend to enjoy the sweater?
Do you say nothing and try to forget that the sweater even exists?
Do you take away the knitting needles?
I said nothing and gave the poor mouse a bush burial while Crook looked on. I hope I didn't hurt his feelings. I hate to think about what I might find in my bed some morning.
Read more...
.jpg)
