Wifeless: Day One

“If evolution really works, how come mothers only have two hands?” Milton Burle asked.  I’m wondering the same thing tonight.

This morning Becky left for Arkansas to attend her cousin’s funeral and, truthfully, to get a break from us.  This trip of hers happens to fall on the one weekend I’m home this month, which is the weekend I’ve planned to get every remaining pre-ordered and ordered copy of the new CD in the mail.

But instead of stuffing envelopes this morning I got three kids dressed in two shirts and two pairs of socks each, gloves and hats.  The end of the world is near.  It snowed in Nashville.  We built a man out of the stuff.  I swear.  A real man.  Look.

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Well, Gresham (age 4) and I did.  The ladies are allergic to snow.  It makes them whine.  So they stayed inside watching more videos than their mother allows and eating things she keeps hidden until they go to bed.  Then we made a tent.

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Well, I made a tent…and the kids apparently got a hold of some bad acid.  “I feel shiny, Daddy.”

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Hey, whatever keeps them happy and still.  Very very still.  I’ve got two more days of wishing I had two of me, or just the other half of me back in town, and I’m running out of things to do with snow and sheets.  Any ideas?

(Special thanks to Redneck Neighbor’s wife who brought me a Coke from Sonic tonight, which contained just enough caffeine to get me through story time and this post.  Off to bed.)

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