I do homework every single day of my damn life, okay? I do the fractions, the long division, the cups of cocoa, the snacks, the calling-the-friend-cause-we-forgot-the-book, the tears. Homework is the boys responsibility, totally, but I am on call to help at anytime. I am pretty capable.
But.
When DADDY is around, suddenly I am not needed. I hear a boy sigh, and steups, and he gets up with his book.
"What's up, honey?" I ask, looking up from my ironing.
"Multiplying fractions. It's okay, I'll ask Dad. HE understands these things."
"He's outside. Can I help?"
"No, no. Dad is better at this MATH stuff."
Hello? HELLO? Am I not the one who explained all those LCM thingies to you?? I can do math too, you know! And tomorrow, when DAD isn't here, you will be running to me with that same math book, ya little wretch!!!
There is a testosterone club in my house. Part of me gets all feminist, but the other part says "Boy, my car could use a wash!" and they all run out and wash the little lady's car with their DADDY, their hero, the #1 man, the best daddy in the whole world. They talk non-stop about cars, racing, and other manly things. They are only my boys when daddy's not here.
At least the cat is still talking to me.
But.
When DADDY is around, suddenly I am not needed. I hear a boy sigh, and steups, and he gets up with his book.
"What's up, honey?" I ask, looking up from my ironing.
"Multiplying fractions. It's okay, I'll ask Dad. HE understands these things."
"He's outside. Can I help?"
"No, no. Dad is better at this MATH stuff."
Hello? HELLO? Am I not the one who explained all those LCM thingies to you?? I can do math too, you know! And tomorrow, when DAD isn't here, you will be running to me with that same math book, ya little wretch!!!
There is a testosterone club in my house. Part of me gets all feminist, but the other part says "Boy, my car could use a wash!" and they all run out and wash the little lady's car with their DADDY, their hero, the #1 man, the best daddy in the whole world. They talk non-stop about cars, racing, and other manly things. They are only my boys when daddy's not here.
At least the cat is still talking to me.
Comments
My boys are also only mine when Daddy's not home. As soon as he walks in the door I am second place.
And I'm jealous of you, I really, truly am.
Because, I never get a goddamn break. Not even to paint my toenails, because THEN, all of them will want THEIR toenails painted, too!!
I tell you what-- we'll do a swap every once in awhile. I'll let you know the next time my car needs washing (like, yesterday...)
xoxo CGF