Friday, November 20, 2009

We Love McLovin'

As I talked about last week, my husband and children left me to play Single Girl for a few days. Last Wednesday night they called to check in, say hello, and, I think, for my husband to prove that he could be in charge without the end result being some scene out of "The Lord of the Flies."

[Sidebar: When he called at 8pm, and I answered the phone, his first words: "Oh, I am sooooo disappointed in you. Big-night-on-the-town, huh? You're totally in pajamas." I denied it. I lied.]

So what did I learn during my mini Mom Sabbatical? Dads may not know the pediatrician, shoe size or what day is Library Day at school, but trust me, moms, he's leaving his mark. Because there's no way they're getting this stuff from us.
  • Spitting into cuts, scrapes and scratches is just as effective as an antiseptic spray. Dirt works too...
  • When pressed for time, tooth brushing is totally optional. Just remember not to speak. I've taken to hiding the toothpaste on Sunday mornings, just so they'll all be quiet until church is over.
  • When someone farts, the appropriate response is "Is there a bear in here?" As it turns out, the offending party is always the one who laughs first.
  • Always save one article of clothing for the laundry until right after Mom finishes the last load...seeing three completely empty laundry bins makes her sad.
  • Cursing is never allowed, with the exception of the word "sucks" after the name of your sports team's biggest our house, the Mets Suck.
  • Dares + Nudity = Successful Completion of Chores -- McLovin dares the kids to empty every trash bin to the big outside can wearing only underwear and one part of the Batman costume -- cape, belt, chest plate, boots or mask. Note to self: Buy more capes.
  • It's never too early to teach them how to get a beer from the downstairs fridge, pop it open, and deliver it to a thirsty adult. One downside: My boys eyeing the beer case at Safeway saying, "Mom, should we get Heineken or Sierra Nev -- WHOA! Sweet! They have the Sam Adams Winter Brew!" And then we get it. And then people stare.
  • Everyone can burp their own name. Everyone except for me...because I'm lame. Or so I've been told. They burp it to me.
  • Adjusting oneself in public is allowed, as long as you justify it. "Sorry mom, Lefty was trying to cross over to the Dark Side." (this has been actually uttered, in Nordstrom, in the shoe department...of which they still remember...and remind me. "Oh you're the one with the boy who's worried about Darth Lefty?" Yes. Yes, that would be me.)
And even on the days when I think he can't become more of an idiot, and sends me the status of the refrigerator while I'm at work (see "no milk") he finds a way to become even more enchanting to the children (fake taking a baseball to the groin is their personal favorite). I showed up after my Mom Sabbatical to three happy kids who were dressed, bathed and dancing to Elvis - with their shirts open to their navels. Singing along to "Hound Dog." By burping.

And to McLovin, YOU are The King. Thankya...thankya vurrrrry much....


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