Friday, November 30, 2007

Be dazzled.


I have to tell y'all the rest of the story about the white flowers and how, most of the time, when I can remember what on Earth I am supposed to do, I tend to be the reliable Mom.


Except for the time I missed a school meeting for parents of exceptional kids because I FORGOT. Go ahead and give me my itinerary for that guilt trip.


Anyway.


Yesterday when I met daughter for lunch, it was only after she had asked her daddy the night before and he said he couldn't go. I knew this as soon as she asked me, but I didn't even hint that I had figured out her plight.


I asked Hubs, "Did she ask you to go to lunch with her first and you said you couldn't?"


"Yep."


"That's what I thought."


Not that I feel rejected or anything.


When I showed up at the lunchroom to meet daughter, Chick-Fil-A kids' meal in hand, guess who was walking with the class alongside daughter?


Yep, Hubs.


Daughter was tickled to death to have both Mom and Dad at lunch. Everyone probably thought it was her birthday and we were just too cheap to send in cupcakes.


Apparently, hubs managed to get his work done and was able to get away at lunch. He knew I was going, but decided to go anyway. It was a quiet family affair in the midst of the cafeteria chaos.


I turned to daughter and said,"You know, I told your grandmother that your daddy is the sequin vest, all shiny and sparkly and fun. And I am the old, worn out sweatshirt, all boring and tired, but reliable and warm."


Hubs just laughed and, after an explanation of the analogy, daughter laughed, too.


Then I said,"Really, Daddy is a sweatshirt that has been bedazzled because he is really reliable, but he is fun and sparkly all at the same time."


Daughter thought this was a hoot and said,"Daddy! You've been bedazzled!!"


Yes, but did he bring any flowers?
;>)

2 comments:

Karla Porter Archer said...

we have these sort of conversations around our home too.

I often feel like the worn out sweatshirt.

Blessings,
Karla

2nd Cup of Coffee said...

I was the housecoat in the family and husband was the clownsuit. Scary.