Wake up.
Shower.
Get kids dressed.
Get self dressed, but not completely, not just yet, lest one or more children dribble some type of child gunk or half eaten food substance on your clean clothes.
Get kids fed.
Get self fed. Curse self for allowing coffee to run out the day before.
Put all our stuff in a pile by the front door. Rack through brain to make sure nothing is being forgotten.
Clean up 1 year old's breakfast mess. Check his diaper, be thankful he hasn't pooped yet, hope he holds out until you get to daycare so it can be somebody else's problem. Feel absolutely no remorse at this dodging of parental responsibility.
Finish getting self dressed, confident that the kids are clean and can't grody up your clothes.
Strap kids into car.
Load stuff into car.
Get in. Start car. Back out of driveway.
Note that strange bumpa-bumpa vibration that wasn't there yesterday, that's never been there before.
Pull back into driveway.
Get out of car.
Spot the flat tire.
Curse.
Curse some more.
Remove children from car.
Attempt to provide sufficient answers to three year old's 18 zillion questions as to why you're going back in the house, thus deviating from the morning routine.
Remember you haven't had any coffee yet, give universe the finger.
Beg children to stay inside and play nice while daddy changes the tire.
Go about business of changing the tire.
Hear screams of children coming from inside, recognize that it's not quite bad enough to check on yet. Also recognize that there's little you can do about it at the moment as you have to get this goddamn tire changed or nobody's going anywhere.
Look up and see three year old standing there. He announces he's there to help.
Ask three year old where his brother is. Get no answer.
Hear banging on the front door. Recognize that it's the baby trying to follow his big brother outside.
Command three year old to stand in one spot while you finish with the tire.
Finish with the tire, realize that you and your clothes are filthy.
Go back inside. Rescue crying baby who has gotten himself stuck in the door.
Start to clean up baby, realize that you're getting grease all over him.
Clean up self while baby screams and three year old continues his line of automobile-related questioning.
Clean up baby. Find that he has now pooped. Realize that you would have had him dropped off by now. See your morning encapsulated in your baby's pants.
Change baby's diaper.
Change into clean clothes.
Still no coffee.
Strap kids back into car.
Drop kids off.
Arrive at work an hour late.
Savor that first cup of coffee.
7 comments:
Oh yeah, teh fatherhood sounds awesome. I can hardly wait!
Yikes. Sorry to hear about the crazy morning. Hopefully the day gets better.
We're out of coffee too. And running low on dog food and cat litter. Chaos may ensue. Must... drag... self... to store.
Hahaha
But hey - it's Friday!!!!
Get yourself some beers tonight. That's right - I demand it!
So awesome.
Yep. Just another lazy day in the fatherhood.
"See your morning encapsulated in your baby's pants."
I think I got that in a fortune cookie once.
Worst. Fortune. Ever.
Well, now my hellacious morning seems like ponies and butterflies. Thanks!
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