Thursday, April 29, 2010
New Erinisms- April 29, 2010
Today was my day off, and for a change, it was positively beautiful outside (it often pours rain on my days off... I'm sure it is merely coincidental, but it is so common that I think sailors & fishermen have taken to staying in port when they know I will be home from work). As Laureen was working one of her half days, we devoted much of the day to working in the yard. Even after Laur left for work, Erin and I continued out in the yard until about 3 PM, at which time we came in to the house so she could wash her hands and have a snack. As she went into the bathroom to wash up, I did the same at the kitchen sink, and then I prepared a cup of chocolate milk for her. Then I took down one of her plates from the cabinet and placed a Vanilla Oreo Cakester on it (if you haven't yet had the pleasure of sampling a Cakester, simply picture an Oreo cookie, but replace the cookie part of the equation with cake). I carried Erin's snack and chocolate milk into the living room and left them for her on her little dining table, and I tuned the television into Nick Jr. for her (I believe Miss Spider was on, but I don't remember for sure). Erin came chugging into the room and flopped down into her chair.
"I hope you like your chocolate milk, Erin... I made it extra chocolatey," I said to her as she picked up her Cakester and held it under her nose, sniffing it deeply.
"OOOOOOOOOHHHH!!!" Erin's one word reply.
With that, I left the room. I returned to the kitchen, and began leafing through a couple of cookbooks, thinking about meals for the next several days. Erin promptly devoured her Cakester and made short work of her chocolate milk. Then she came charging back into the kitchen and began poking me with her finger. Looking down at her, I asked,
"Can I help you?"
"Dadoo, I'm still really hungry."
"OK. Well, there's still another Cakester in the pack. Would you like that?"
"Hmmmmmm... No thanks, Dadoo. But are there any more of the chocolate ones?"
"No, Erin."
"Well, what happened to them?"
"There all gone."
"Somebody ate THEM ALL?!?!?" Erin's voice is beginning to rise at this point.
"Yes Erin. There's only 10 in a box. They don't last that long."
"WHO?!?! WHO ATE THEM ALL?!?!"
"I don't know, Erin. We all ate them. I don't know who had the last one."
"IT WAS YOU, WASN'T IT, DADOO!?!? YOU ATE THE LAST ONE!" You should have heard the hysterical, accusatory tone in her voice. The worst part was that I really did not eat the last one. But this is what my four year old thinks of me. In her mind, I'm the one who finishes off the last of the dessert. And once again, like a dope, I find myself defending myself to my child.
"No, I didn't eat the last one."
"THEN WHO?!?!"
"I don't know! You, or Mommy, or Uncle Brian. I have no idea!"
"Dadoo... Mommy didn't eat the last one. It... was... you."
"Go watch your show!"
"I hope you like your chocolate milk, Erin... I made it extra chocolatey," I said to her as she picked up her Cakester and held it under her nose, sniffing it deeply.
"OOOOOOOOOHHHH!!!" Erin's one word reply.
With that, I left the room. I returned to the kitchen, and began leafing through a couple of cookbooks, thinking about meals for the next several days. Erin promptly devoured her Cakester and made short work of her chocolate milk. Then she came charging back into the kitchen and began poking me with her finger. Looking down at her, I asked,
"Can I help you?"
"Dadoo, I'm still really hungry."
"OK. Well, there's still another Cakester in the pack. Would you like that?"
"Hmmmmmm... No thanks, Dadoo. But are there any more of the chocolate ones?"
"No, Erin."
"Well, what happened to them?"
"There all gone."
"Somebody ate THEM ALL?!?!?" Erin's voice is beginning to rise at this point.
"Yes Erin. There's only 10 in a box. They don't last that long."
"WHO?!?! WHO ATE THEM ALL?!?!"
"I don't know, Erin. We all ate them. I don't know who had the last one."
"IT WAS YOU, WASN'T IT, DADOO!?!? YOU ATE THE LAST ONE!" You should have heard the hysterical, accusatory tone in her voice. The worst part was that I really did not eat the last one. But this is what my four year old thinks of me. In her mind, I'm the one who finishes off the last of the dessert. And once again, like a dope, I find myself defending myself to my child.
"No, I didn't eat the last one."
"THEN WHO?!?!"
"I don't know! You, or Mommy, or Uncle Brian. I have no idea!"
"Dadoo... Mommy didn't eat the last one. It... was... you."
"Go watch your show!"
***************************
A few weeks ago, Erin came to Laur and I in our bedroom, and out of the blue stated,
"Dadoo?"
"Yes Erin?"
"When I get married and have my wedding, I don't want there to be any kissing."
"Ummm... OK.... Erin, I don't think we're going to have to worry about that for some time, OK?"
A Long Layoff
Well, it seems I've been neglecting my blog. Over a month has passed since my last posting... disgraceful! That is why I am taking this moment to pound out this quick note, firmly recommitting myself to a minimum of one posting a week. So much has happened in the past month, so much new fodder for my little rants and textual temper tantrums, and so many new Erinisms to share with the world. I guess I better get started...
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