Sunday, May 19, 2013

Single Dad: Day 3

I was too tired to write last night.

Day number three started pretty much where day two ended up--fighting with Paige. Our kids do chores on Saturday mornings. Done without complaining, this takes about two minutes. I spent a good hour-plus arguing with Paige about her chores, then about getting dressed, and then about how she didn't want to go to Curtis' soccer game ("Dad, do you really want to go to Curtis' game in the rain? Do you want your children to get cold and sick? Do you want your children to get sick, dad?).

Luckily, she cheered up when she saw her friend Mackenzie. (Otherwise, I may have left her at the soccer field.)

A little rain didn't hold Curtis down. He put on his jacket and went to work, scoring four goals. (It helps that it's a Pre-K league, ages 3-5. A five-year-old, Curtis is having a heyday.)

With the morning drama out of the way, we were able to have a pretty nice afternoon. I guess all of the horribleness of assembling the grill was worth it because we had a nice little hot dog picnic in the backyard. Paige and Curtis had a great time playing with the maple helicopter leaves.

After dinner, we picked up Traci's dad and headed to the Utah Blaze game. Paige and Curtis love going to the games. Though he usually does okay-ish, I don't take Tate if I have the choice. Obviously, with Traci out of town, I didn't have the choice.

We'd been at the game about five seconds when Tate said, "Go home, Dad." Thanks to some popcorn, he made it through the first quarter. But, as tends to happen, all that popcorn made him thirsty. He grabbed Grandpa's water bottle and spilled a bunch of it down the front of his shirt. He didn't like that too much. So he spent the second quarter bare chest-ting it. (Which is totally legit at a Blaze game; in fact, it usually gets you on the Jumbotron.)

At half-time, we discovered the playground in the upper level concourse. Filled to overflowing with kids, it was a death-defying experience. But it kept Tate entertained for another quarter, which was all I could have hoped for. I didn't get to see much football, but Tate was happy on the playground and Paige and Curtis were happy watching the game with grandpa. A good night.

I got home, dumped the kids in bed, and called it a night. Three days down, one to go.

1 comment:

thepalmierifamily said...

Oh you brave soul, and good husband to give your wife a break! Every mother's dream I think. Every dad's nightmare. Um, I hate to think of Paige's comments when she's a pre-teen and teenager. It makes me a little nervous for when Isabel starts talking.