Well, a lot has changed since you left the shores of Calgary for the shores of Indiana. I know it’s been a stressful few weeks, well months, well really a year. But you can return to our humble abode with a lighter heart because I’ve addressed some critical things in your absence.
I personally re-capped all the children’s markers today, so the lids actually correspond with the color of the marker. I’m guessing it bothered you as much as it bothered me – to grab what I thought was a green marker, only to discover it was yellow. No more. Tomorrow you can confidently draw a man on a skateboard, as I had to do today, with the assurance that the color you thought you selected is the color it will be.
I also took the time to walk down to the basement with a knife in my hand. I flattened those moving boxes that had been piled so high in the laundry room that the door would barely close. It’s neat – being able to open the door without fear of being attacked by empty cardboard boxes.
I also tackled your sanctuary-slash-dumping-ground: the office. Personally I thought it was a little uncalled for that you chose to point out how messy the floor was to all of your family during our videoconference yesterday. (Videoconference makes it seem like we discussed important business. Video chatting on gmail doesn’t.)
Particularly in light of the fact that the biggest offender of office mess….is you. There are very few times that I wish you were a more anal person. Because I realize anality would spill over into other areas where I wouldn’t care for it. Like maybe you’d get irritated if I served cereal for dinner instead of actual food. Or maybe you’d keep track of how often I really cleaned the bathroom and bring it to my attention when it’s not often enough.
But a little bit of anal-ness in the office could go a long way, I think. All I will say, is this: I found a branch on top of the printer. A branch?! Why was there a branch in the office on the printer? And the box of items-for-ebay that you swore you were going to sell in May? It hasn’t been touched.
What is this…and why did it move with us from Muncie to Calgary home 1 and now to Calgary home 2?
Well, it’s nearly 10pm. I’m guessing it’s safe to say that you will not have to sell one of your kidneys in order to buy me an insanely expensive gift because I had to give birth by myself. But it would be nice if you could devote a little time during your solo airplane travels tomorrow to figure out a name for baby 3. Because I really don’t think we can call this boy ‘The Dude’ much as you’d probably like to.
We might also need to have the Hen checked for amnesia or Tourette’s. All the kid seems to say is: ‘Whe-Daddy’? And it doesn’t matter how you respond – I tried telling him you were in Indiana, with Grandma and Grandpa, on a plane. Anything. I even tried ridiculous answers, like ‘under a rock’. But it didn’t make him stop asking.
It’s almost as if he just has to utter the phrase a set number of times per day before being able to move on to something else. Also he appears unable to identify himself in photographs. He refers to any blond, blue-eyed boy in a picture as Gaga (big brother). He can correctly identify cats and birds, however. Perhaps there’s a future for him in a nature preserve somewhere.
Hope the Reds game was entertaining. Don’t forget to come home. The supposed flight delays were a fine excuse for the trip there; it’s not going to work for the trip back.