After a smooth sailing weekend, we waited for four hours (over dinner time and bedtime)at KC Airport for our flight, which we discovered was delayed for three hours as soon as we passed through security and were locked in the confines of the gate area. Somehow (because of my fucking awesome Karma), both Things did really well and with minimal flailing, eventually slept on the airplane. Thing 2 naturally was sitting with Daddy, so he was content. Then Thing 1 woke up on the plane with a full blown MAN COLD. He is four, yet has somehow captured the drama and unnecessary whining of a 45 year old man afflicted with one of those flesh eating viruses, the bird flu?, oh wait, I mean a head cold. O...M....G
This morning I was sitting in Eleanor, refreshed and completely revived after arriving home at midnight and being awoken at 6:15 by the melodious tune of "I'm DONE!!" coming from the bathroom. I was sipping my coffee and watching the news when all of a sudden he appeared at my side- standing very still in a sullen and eerie Children of the Corn-like manner, while breathing through his mouth and snorting phlegm. I showed him where the tissues were and instructed him on blowing methods but he became a limp, whimpering rag doll and couldn't manage that tricky tissue. Weird how he could navigate the awesome go-kart down hills and around trees and over a pond dam at his uncle's house, yet the workings of a Kleenex were far too complex. *moan* Then he asked for his new toy guns and I told him that he could have them when he learned to use the tissue. Then Brock gave him the exact same tutorial that I had just moments before and Thing 1 announced, "I can blow my nose now! Daddy showed me!" and I wondered how far I would have to ram the fork into my leg before I hit bone.
Then Thing 2 woke up and softly cried out, "Daddy!" like he always does, because Daddy apparently possesses magical powers, like a unicorn... or Oprah.
So Thing 1 breathed on me and sniffed his snot and I held the tissue so he could empty his nasal cavity onto my hand. Then I gave him the tissue to throw away and he held it with the very tips of his fingers in a disgusted manner as he shuffled over to the trash can- still gasping for air through his mouth with his shoulders slumped like his muscles have all turned to jelly, yet moments later in the day he found the strength to not only whack Thing 2 int he head with his new toy gun twice (both guns have been confiscated), but also to whack his best friend, who happens to be an adorable little girl, in the head with a stick ,with his baby brother whispering "Daddy. Daddy. Daddy." in the background. Then Thing 1 informed me that Thing 2 "doesn't like you, he only likes Daddy", while everyone was eating the third meal of the that I prepared for them in between the four loads of laundry that I washed, dried, folded and put away. This day was fucking magical. Let it end now before I attempt to sell one or both of my