While Dad’s Away…
Dec 4 2013
Greg’s away this week.
This means several things.
1. Greg keeps sending me pictures like this:
Titled things like this:
Because Greg feels like it’s important to remind me even from afar how much he appreciates a nice rack.
If you’re offended right now, I’d like to point out that you have excellent taste. If you’re accidentally giggling, though, you’re invited to play Settlers of Catan at my house anytime ’cause, God help me, I cannot ask someone for their wood without acting like I’m 14 years old. It’s not pretty; it’s just true.
2. There’s an unusual cold front moving in and our furnace died.
Greg is away, so OF COURSE THERE IS and OF COURSE IT DID.
When Greg went on a business trip in December 2003, leaving me for just a couple days with three kids age 5 and under, two of whom were toddlers we’d adopted mere months before with undiagnosed and complex special needs which rendered us incapable of any meaningful communication, we had an “ice event,” which trapped us in our house for 5 days, closed airports and left Greg stuck blissfully alone on the easy coast. (Psst…that was a typo. It was supposed to read “east coast,” but APPARENTLY I’M STILL SUBCONSCIOUSLY TRAUMATIZED over here.) Oh, sweet Jesus; it was horrible. There came a point after several days when Greg called home and said, “Well, I think I can fly into Seattle, but then I’d have to risk my life to drive Seattle to Portland on the ice to get home, so I’m not sure…” And I said, “RISK YOUR LIFE, MAN. IF EVER THERE WAS A TIME TO PUT YOUR LIFE ON THE LINE, THIS IS IT.”
The next business trip Greg went on was in December 2006. We had a giant wind storm. Our premature twins were 7 weeks old and still transitioning from hospital tube feeding to breast feeding. I farmed out the 3 big kids to only God knows where, and then I forced my mother to come stay with me. We slept on mattresses we shoe-horned in between the cribs in the twins’ room because it was the most shielded from the trees threatening to fall on the house. The electricity went out, so, in addition to having no heat, we had to find batteries for the breast pump by flashlight. We lost two trees and the remainder of our sanity during that storm but we lost NO PEOPLE so we considered it a win. We almost lost Greg when I took off his head coming back in the front door, but we patched him up later into a near semblance of his old self, which is all we parents get anyway, so we called it good enough and moved on.
3. My left eye has has not stopped twitching for three straight days.
4. Our kids miss their daddy. For very good reasons. Reasons like,
“I miss dad,” Abby said. “He’s better at helping me with homework than you are.”
And “I miss dad,” Ian said. “How come you never show us funny videos before bed?”
And “I miss dad,” Aden said. “He says better prayers.”
And “I miss dad,” Cael said. “You’re not science enough.”
And my personal favorite, “I miss dad,” Cai said. “He’s the quietest pooper I know.”
In conclusion, come home, Greg. We need your and your mad pooping skills, man.