His vacation…
As I sit here and try to write this with three boys throwing a Nerf ball over my head I wonder why it is that his vacation always leaves me three bottles short of easing my headache. Could it be because our boys still think of daddy as a novelty. The one that is ‘fun’ and plays catch, wrestles in the house, and drags them to see blockbuster movies. Perhaps. Could it be that people assume that sense he’s home and has a few days off that we should spend those days with them? Perhaps. Could it be that since he’s home he feels the need to trail me like a shadow I can’t shake asking repeatedly what he can do to ‘help’? Perhaps.
I’ll think more on this as I down another cup of coffee, duck to avoid being tackled, find something for him to do, and avoid the phone at all costs.
Gosh, I really love it when he’s on vacation.
Mandy
