First, as always, keep the prayers coming my way, please? I woke up this morning almost as if I had never had my spine cut in half and fused back together. It was AWESOME!
I woke up in time to say hello and goodbye to my kiddos before they went off to school. I’ve been feeling bad lately because I’ve just been sleeping in. That’s not entirely unjustified. I’m still recovering from major surgery. Still, it doesn’t require much effort to open one’s eyes, get out of bed, and give your kids a kiss so they know you love them before they go off for a few hours. By the way, again the prayers are working from all around. Both of my babies (4 and 6 years-old) slept in their own beds last night, peacefully, through the night. And therein lies the facts of the first fun thing that happened this morning.
As I woke up (having slept on the couch because my bed is still just a bit too uncomfortable for me until I adjust to sleeping without a back brace) I heard my wife insistently asking my son to “Come on! Get out of bed!” His sister was already at the counter eating the marshmallows out of her generic Lucky Charms. She’s adorable sometimes. OK, all of the time (except when she throws a tantrum – I’ve seen Irish relatives at bars three sheets gone who are tamer than this little girl when she gets her ire up). I opened his door. Buddy the Dog (our Jack Russell Terrier) ran in and leapt onto the bed, licking my son’s face. He laughed (son, not dog). But seeing that both the dog and my son then curled up and went back to sleep I decided to go nuclear. I opened Youtube on my phone and frantically typed into the search box a few words and before long I was blasting Tiny Tim’s Tiptoe through the Tulips into Sonny Boy’s ear. He laughed and then, glancing at the picture on the screen said “That’s a boy?!”
After she had dropped them at school, my wife, the lovely Mrs. H. decided to put a cake in the oven and then go into her office for work. She was on a conference call when the oven timer started beeping. I stopped what I was doing and walked back to her. She whispered “Can you just check on that cake?”
Oh my Lord… She’s letting me assist her with a cake? She is letting me assist her with a cake. You don’t understand. My wife is like a master cake builder. Those cable shows have nothing on her. Last week she made a violin out of fondant for the kids music recital. No, she’s good. Do I ever wonder whether she trusts me in general? Eh… Well, I know I may not have always given her reason to have solid faith in me and I mean this in terms of my ability as a provider (Catholic school teachers don’t earn a whole lot which makes teaching about a “living wage” in a Social Justice course pretty hard); but I know she trusts me as a rule. But this is a cake – one of her creations. And she trusted me with it! So I went in to the kitchen, opened the oven gingerly, and stuck a fork in it. Literally. I could tell it was not ready and I reset the timer.
Feeling proud of my assistance to my wife I began to remember how proud I was when she took my name, when she bore children for me, when – wait, where was I? The cake! Yes… She trusts me with a cake. The reset timer went off and as I was feeling like Betty Crocker heading to the oven (was actually going to grab an apron!) I saw my wife coming around the corner. She must have been done with her call. I stood there all proud with my arms akimbo sort of like Yul Brenner. She opened the oven door and took a look. “You’re right, it’s not ready yet,” she said. My heart was beaming with pride. Not only did she trust me but I didn’t let her down! I am the MAN!
So other than the fact that I should have used a toothpick and not a fork, I felt pretty good. She trusted me with a cake. Can I stress how important that is?
Forget it, you wouldn’t understand.
Tomorrow I begin my series on how to alienate your audience.
Keep the prayers coming. My spinal fusion IS healing. Hoping to be able to go around the block with the kittens tonight at least once or twice.