....and I thought that no one would be happier about that than I am. But I was wrong.
No, no. I'm THRILLED that PapaC is home. He's been working out of town for the past three months, and only been in on the weekends, so I've missed him a LOT.
But the MCKID is over the moon happy that he is home. McKid has a single mom, and longs for the daddy-type figure that PapaC provides. She is busy following him around like a sheepdog, nipping at the heels of a slow-moving sheep. She talks to him continually, providing a running commentary on everything. Now she is sitting next to him at the breakfast table. He's trying to read the sports section, she is singing to him--Happy Birthday to You, for some unknown reason.
She lives for the time when he will wrestle with her--"The Claw" coming to get her head or tummy results in shrieks of laughter. She bucks up when he tells her to. He is much sterner with her than I am, and it matters not a bit. I would think her feelings would be hurt by some of his correction. And they are--but only very temporarily. She also knows he is good for a quick trip over to the church garden across the street.
The funniest thing is to see them playing Madden football on the XBox together. He doesn't hook her controller up, but she doesn't know that. They sit on the end of Zteen's bed and play and she is oh, so serious.
So, take that you feminists who don't think daddies (or daddy figures, in this case) are important. You can't replace them with a mom. It's just too different.
amen to that.
Hmph! I guess they are OK, when they are not being unreasonable, but so often they are completely nuts.
Take today as an example. Babbo wouldn't give me any candy for breakfast. What kind of a fascist is he anyway?
As soon as I am old enough to read, I will read Hasek's Good Soldier Swejk and will perfect my technique, although Babbo insists that Hasek must have had me in mind when he wrote the book. We'll see. For now, Harry the Dirty Dog is more my pace.
Well, I gotta go. There are messes to be made (you should see the look Babbo gets on his face when I dump out my toys on the floor - he turns red and starts sputtering things in German).
Amalia, sweetie--keep it up. I have it under advisement that although Babbo likes to think he has it all under control, he is actually wrapped around those beautiful fingers of yours--even if he won't give you candy for breakfast! Merry Christmas, sweet girl!
Who told you that?
It is patently, well, true, but we don't advertise it!