Who's your Daddy?

I called home to talk to Jenny this week. She was busy cleaning the bathrooms, so Allie answered the phone. The conversation went something like this...

Allie answered, "Hello?"

"Hi, Allie. Is Mom there?"

Somewhat accusative as well as inquisitive, "Who is this!?!"

"This is Dad." I replied.

"My Dad?" she asked?

How do you respond to that?

The Brutal Truth

I am sure everyone has been witness to the brutal honesty of children. This honesty can be embarrassing at times. (Jenny can attest to the many time my kids have asked, "Why is that lady fat?" or "Is that a girl or a boy?" out in public.) Luckily for us this next bit occurred at the safety of our own breakfast table.

I get these tumors in my arm. On our recent trip to see the grandparents, Jenny's Dad removed a bunch of them from my arm. As we were sitting at the breakfast table, Allie leans over and touches the bandages on my arm. She then says, "Hey Dad, what happened to your arm?"

Trying to add a bit of drama I said, "That's where grandpa cut me open."

"Ewww, that is disgusting." (the 's' in disgusting is pronounced with a 'th')

"Yeah, it's not pretty is it?" I replied.

"Yeah, it's disgusting. You should put your shirt down to here (touching my wrist), so you don't disgust people at your work."

I guess it looked pretty bad.

Two days later, Allie and I went out to run some errands together. Since it was a Saturday morning, I had thrown on some shorts and a t-shirt. I grabbed my ball cap and we headed out. As we pulled out of the driveway, Allie looked up and noticed I was wearing my hat backwards.

With her impressive sense of fashion she warns me, "Dad, you better take your hat off or people will make fun of you, because you look weird."

Ouch.

Payback

There comes a time in every child's life where they understand quid-pro-quo, tick for tack, what goes around, comes around. Hannah has learned this lesson.

We have a ridiculous amount of toys. They all take residence in what would be considered the "Home Teaching" room. Unfortunately, there are so many toys, no home teaching takes place in that room.

Hannah and Allie have been assigned to clean the what appears to be an explosion of toys. Unsupervised, this activity will take no less than 3 hours and have multiple fights. For whatever reason Hannah justified in her mind, she decided that Allie had offended her and that she would deliver the necessary justice.

If you know my children, you know that volume control is not something they have developed. After Hannah whacks Allie, an ear piercing scream comes from the toy room. This is the signal for Jenny to verify no blood has been spilt, but also a signal to Hannah that parents are on their way.

As Jenny approaches the toy room, she hears Hannah tell Allie, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Here, hurry, quick hit me. Hit me just like I hit you! Hurry, just hit me back!"

Life lesson learned.

Stealing our poop

Well, this is my first blog posting. Scott told me to try it, here goes

About 3 weeks ago we had a dump truck full of compost delivered to our house. It was about 5 feet tall, and shortly after it was delivered our girls wanted to climb the mound. I explained that this was not ordinary dirt, but that it had sticks and some poop in it and that it wasn't the best stuff to play in.

Well, we had some extra, so we offered it to our neighbors. It was a nice day so all the windows were open. Our neighbor came over with her wheelbarrow and shovel, and started scooping up the compost. I hear from a distance Hannah and Allie calling out to her "what are you doing?"

Our neighbor says "taking your dirt."

Hannah & Allie yell at the same time "Moooooooooom!"

Hannah yells " Mom, the neighbor is taking our dirt!"

Allie then yells " Ya, she taking our poop, she's taking our poop!"

I couldn't help but laugh, and I can't even imagine what the rest of our street was thinking when they heard that.

Why I Love Madison!

This is why I love Madison:

Allie is yelling from the bathroom that she just went poopers and needs help. So, up I get and head into the bathroom to perform my fatherly duties. Out of nowhere, Madison jumps out of the hall closet and says, "Dad! Did you know I was famous?"

"No, Madi. Why are you famous?"

"George Washington had red hair, but he wore a wig!"

"So, how does that make you famous?"

In her most exasperated tone she replies, "Dad, red hair. I have red hair, so does George Washington. I'm famous!"

Before I can respond she continues, "And this boy at school had a book with all the letters of my name!"

"What?"

Once again the exasperation sets in, "M-A-D-I-S-O-N...My full name is M-A-D-I-S-O-N, Madison!"

She then follows up with the kicker. "Aren't you happy to have someone famous in the family?"

"Absolutely!"

That's why I love Madison. But it gets better...Madison has already run through this exact same story with Jenny. But she added, "Mom, don't be surprised if the newspaper lady comes by asking for someone famous. You can tell her I live here!"

Now that's why I love Madison.

Banned the Pan

Allie has taken up to name calling. As always, I blame television for these nasty habits. In this particular case, I have proof.

Rather than call me Dad or Daddy, she has decided I am now "You old cod fish."

I think she means it with love...

Should have listened.

I fell down at work today. Total face planet into the carpet. I am not sure what happened, but I should have listened to Allie, "...and don't fall down."