Tuesday, April 14, 2009

He Said by She Said

So, Greg has not blogged about something that happened almost a month ago, so I am going to try something new. I’m going to write for him in the first person. Here is his tale, written by me as if I were him. Hell, I might even drop a couple of apostrophes just to make you feel like it is actually him that is writing it.


Several weeks ago Susanne headed up to the snowy mountains with three of her friends for an overnight getaway, a getaway from everything but each other, some wine, amazing snacks, phenomenal meals, some dominoes, and the beauty of the snow falling.


Being the marvelous father that I am, I thought I would do something really cool with the kids, something we normally couldn’t get away with while Susanne was home and something the kids would talk about for weeks on end. I built our 8-person tent in our living room and let them “sleep” in it overnight.


As you can see, it barely fit! Yeah, pretty cool of me, huh? Only the kids had a difficult time with the concept of “sleeping” in the tent. They finally, FINALLY, crashed around 11:15 that night. Considering they are usually in bed by 8 pm, all I could do is pray to the flying spaghetti monster that they sleep in and not wake up at the same time they normally do with a serious case of the crankies.

Well, not only did they not sleep in, they woke me up at 4 am to go potty and then wouldn’t go back to sleep. By 4:45 am, I couldn’t take it anymore and I hollered at them to settle down or they were going to have to go back to their rooms. They took the seriousness of my tone to heart and finally collapsed. And then so did I. I fell asleep so hard and fast (something Susanne is completely jealous of me for being able to do) that the following hour is a complete blur. I awoke in a complete panic from this deep slumber, absolutely certain that the kids were each waiting in their respective rooms for me to put them to bed. I was completely convinced that they had never settled down, and I had made good on my threat to put them back in their own beds. Only in my stupor I believe that I never put them in their own beds and that they are each waiting in their rooms for me to do so. I leap out of bed quicker than Flash Gordon and run into Emily’s room. She’s not there. I run into Braedyn’s room. He’s not there! I am completely panicked at this point and start hollering for them.

With one foot still in the dream state, and one foot in reality, I raced through the house yelling for them. I finally get to the tent and as I am unzipping it, both feet land firmly in reality and I realize right then that the reason they hadn’t answered my calls was because THEY WERE ASLEEP IN THE TENT. “Were” being the operative word. After I barged in on them, they awoke and were full of piss and vinegar from that point on. Let’s just say 5:30 am is not pretty for any of us. Braedyn crashed around 9:30 and Emily crashed after lunch.

Their early awakening ended my Super Dad stint that weekend. I promptly turned into “Where’s-My-Flippin’-Coffee Dad.” It is a slight consolation that the kids still ask when they can do it again.


So, there’s my rendition of what happened to my awesome husband that weekend. It’s hard not to laugh at his misery, huh?

1 comment:

  1. I think you missed an apostrophe.

    And btw, I promised the kids they could sleep in the tent that weekend I am heading out with the boys.

    Thanks for posting my blog. :P