My fellow parent has many excellent qualities. Yet it has always been clear to me that I am the superior. Evidence? Please. It is evident. I mean, just look at me. I'm GREAT.
So imagine my dismay when I returned on Wednesday from a week-long work trip to Nairobi and the homestead was in perfect order and our child SEEMED both happy and throughly kempt. The kid barely noticed I was gone. At first I was perplexed, but looking back over the evidence of the week, I have an explanation. Gross corruption.
My daughter has been bribed.
Exhibit 1: Vegetables (lack thereof). One evening I Skyped in to my wee, dear family to find that my one year-old was merrily dining on take-out from the local cheap Chinese place. The child clutched a gyoza and was smeared in pork fat, soy sauce and jollity. A transparent effort to buy her chubby little heart.
Exhibit 2: Bedtime. Last night at dinner, Alex's sister asked when the Noodle usually goes to bed. "At eight," I answered promptly. "Between seven and eight...well, nine," said Alex, just as promptly. He said, "I mean, it would be seven fifteen every night if I had my way. Ha! Hahaha! HA!" We looked at each other. I raised an eyebrow.
Exhibit 3: Television. Also last night, while dining at Alex's sister's home, our daughter kept picking up the remote control for the TV and pointing it at the screen and pushing random buttons in what can only be described as a well-practiced motion. When the TV finally came on she was utterly transfixed. "Wow, look how fascinated she is," I said. "We almost never watch TV when she is around at home." I looked at Alex. He looked away.
Exhibit 4: Cookies. Again last night at dinner, Noodle was given a piece of cookie for dessert. Then she wanted another one, which I was inclined to let her have. "She never eats this stuff, so it's fine," I said. At the same moment, Alex said, "No more! Noodle, I think you have had more than enough cookies lately."
"Wait, when was that?" I asked.
"Psh," he said, holding up his thumb to start counting. "Just this afternoon she had one, two...plenty," he said.
I looked at him, and had a sudden vision of the dozens of cookies that had disappeared down that delicate toddler gullet over the last seven days. My husband shrugged.
I rest my case.
But also, I would like to reiterate my thanks to my darling husband for making it possible for me to go gallivanting halfway across the world to do my job, indeed to enjoy my job, without worrying for a minute whether my baby is being taken care of.
Of course she is. She has the loveliest Daddy in the world, and we both love him very, very much.
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| Heading south. I think we were over Egypt. |
So imagine my dismay when I returned on Wednesday from a week-long work trip to Nairobi and the homestead was in perfect order and our child SEEMED both happy and throughly kempt. The kid barely noticed I was gone. At first I was perplexed, but looking back over the evidence of the week, I have an explanation. Gross corruption.
My daughter has been bribed.
Exhibit 1: Vegetables (lack thereof). One evening I Skyped in to my wee, dear family to find that my one year-old was merrily dining on take-out from the local cheap Chinese place. The child clutched a gyoza and was smeared in pork fat, soy sauce and jollity. A transparent effort to buy her chubby little heart.
Exhibit 2: Bedtime. Last night at dinner, Alex's sister asked when the Noodle usually goes to bed. "At eight," I answered promptly. "Between seven and eight...well, nine," said Alex, just as promptly. He said, "I mean, it would be seven fifteen every night if I had my way. Ha! Hahaha! HA!" We looked at each other. I raised an eyebrow.
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| Corrupted. |
Exhibit 3: Television. Also last night, while dining at Alex's sister's home, our daughter kept picking up the remote control for the TV and pointing it at the screen and pushing random buttons in what can only be described as a well-practiced motion. When the TV finally came on she was utterly transfixed. "Wow, look how fascinated she is," I said. "We almost never watch TV when she is around at home." I looked at Alex. He looked away.
Exhibit 4: Cookies. Again last night at dinner, Noodle was given a piece of cookie for dessert. Then she wanted another one, which I was inclined to let her have. "She never eats this stuff, so it's fine," I said. At the same moment, Alex said, "No more! Noodle, I think you have had more than enough cookies lately."
 |
| Daddy and daughter. |
"Wait, when was that?" I asked.
"Psh," he said, holding up his thumb to start counting. "Just this afternoon she had one, two...plenty," he said.
I looked at him, and had a sudden vision of the dozens of cookies that had disappeared down that delicate toddler gullet over the last seven days. My husband shrugged.
I rest my case.
But also, I would like to reiterate my thanks to my darling husband for making it possible for me to go gallivanting halfway across the world to do my job, indeed to enjoy my job, without worrying for a minute whether my baby is being taken care of.
Of course she is. She has the loveliest Daddy in the world, and we both love him very, very much.
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| Three big loves. |
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