Posted by: laughs4dads | February 19, 2010

Quality Time, Part III

A continuation Wednesday’s post: my account of a typical rainy day when my daughter was two.

4:35 PM As Casey and I play with a quiet, relaxing toy that consists of 6 marbles racing through an Olympic bobsled run, Barb and I discuss what to do for dinner.  It’s not that we’re hungry; we’re just ready for another activity.  We consider taking Casey to a restaurant, which is one of my favorite things to do, right after going to the dentist.  I nominate Chinese take-out, primarily because it will give me an excuse to leave the house.

5:23 PM I return with two dripping bags of Chinese food which are difficult to hold with the Oscar and Grover puppets on my hands.  Sadly, I have lost the presence of mind to remove them.  Casey mercifully takes her time with the spare ribs.

5:58 PM We play with her cow puppet.  I say “Mmmmmooooo.”  Then she puts a New York Mets cap on its head.  Then I say, “Mmmmeets.”  We do this approximately 278 times.

6:19 PM We are coming down the home stretch now.  The three of us play “Ring Around the Rosie.”  We all fall down.  Then we play “London Bridges” and “Motor Boat.”  Then we turn on MTV and dance.  Barb and I keep looking at our watches.  Bedtime is at eight.  We know that the next hour and 41 minutes is going to be like the last two minutes of a football game: the time clock may say 1:51 remaining, but you just know it won’t be over in time for “60 Minutes.”

6:47 PM Real time is irrelevant now; we have entered that sort of existential time-space relationship known only to parenthood.  As Casey begins a stirring encore of “The Alphabet Song,” I notice that my hands are visibly shaking.

7:03 PM Casey asks to feed the fish.  We let her.  They are beginning to look bloated.

7:10 PM I give Casey an ice pop.  For a full twenty minutes, she keeps herself busy dripping on the carpeting.

7:30 PM Barb takes Casey upstairs for a bath.  Meanwhile I discover that I have been walking around with a large square of green construction paper glued to my shirt.  I wonder if the people in the Chinese take-out place noticed and, if so, what they thought of it.  I’m sure if they have kids, they understood.

7:49 PM Casey comes downstairs in her pajamas, dragging a toy I have not seen for months.  It is a soft, floppy bunny with a pouch in its back, supposedly for storing PJ’s.  “Bunny?” Casey says and shoves the thing onto my hand, thus transforming it into a puppet.  I have trouble coming up with an appropriate voice.  What do bunnies sound like, anyway?  Probably not rabbis.

7:57 PM Barbara emerges from the kitchen with Casey’s bedtime bottle and I gaze upon it as if it is a burning bush.  Casey sits in my lap to drink it, then kisses us good- night and goes with Barbara up to bed.  On the way up, she says, “I wuv you, daddy,” which, I know, is supposed to make it all worthwhile.

And it does.  But, as we spend our evening picking up toys,  Barb and I realize that tomorrow’s Sunday, and the weather’s not supposed to be any better.  We know we’ll survive.  But will the goldfish?

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