Birthday Lunch

We went up to Troy’s school today to have lunch with him for his birthday. Apparently, it’s a thing they do. My wife, my wife’s mother, and I sat with Troy at a private table off to the side, which was a little disappointing. We were hoping we’d get to hang out with him and his friends and see what he was like around them, but we didn’t. So, we had a quick lunch with him, and then we passed out the cookies we had brought for his friends and teachers. I think he was excited for the attention.

6th Birthday

Troy’s sixth birthday came and went without much fanfare or pageantry. We showered him with hugs and kisses this morning, but that was about it. The librarian at his school gave him a free book, and his class sang to him. Then, after school, he wanted to go to his playcare to tell everyone that he was finally six. He was so proud that he was telling everyone he met, even random strangers.

John

Troy: “Dada, who is that?”
Me: “John.”
Troy: “Who’s John?”
Me: “John Wayne. He was an actor.”
Troy: “Was he a cowboy?”
Me: “Sometimes. My father and stepfather really liked his movies. I actually drew that picture for my stepfather for his birthday.”
Troy: “He looks cool.”
Me: “He was. He died.”
Troy: “Did the bad guy in the movie kill him?”
Me: “No, he died in real life, just like my stepfather.”
Troy: “Why did your stepfather die?”
Me: “He got sick.”
Troy: “Oh. Why did John die?”
Me: “He also got sick. Here let me show you a photograph of him. There, that’s him in my favorite movie, The Angel and the Badman. What do you think? How did I do with my drawing?”
Troy: “You did great. I can totally tell that’s him in your drawing.”
Me: “Thanks, man.”
Troy: “Of course, even if you’d messed up and it was bad, I’d still love it, because you drew it. And I love you.”
Me [hugging him]: “You’re very sweet. I love you too.”

Naked and Lasers

Sasha’s Mom [texting]: “What is Troy into these days? I’d like to get him a birthday gift.”
My Wife: “I’d say books, dragons, Spider-Man, Godzilla, dinosaurs, snakes (eww), and board games…we have a few already like naked and lasers, Candy Land, and Zombieopoly.”
Me: “That’s Snakes and Ladders, not Naked and Lasers! We may play that, but not with Troy!”
My Wife: “OMG!! Stupid autocorrect! I’m so sorry!”
Sasha’s Mom: “LOL, too much information!”

The Attic of Forgetfulness

Little kids seem to retain only information that they deem is necessary and important for functioning in life. Which in the case of Troy is obscure facts about animals, the plot line of every Disney movie, and things that I said months ago that he will now use against me. But it’s distinctly lacking in any information that is actually useful and helpful, like remembering which door his mother normally drops him off at when he has to go in early.

Me: “Which door does mama normally drop you off at when you go in early?”
Troy: “I can’t remember.”
Me: “Is it this one?”
Troy: “Yes.”
Me: “Do you know for sure, or are you just saying that because we’re sitting in front of it?”
Troy: “This is it…or maybe that one up there…or it could be the one we just passed.”
Me: “So, essentially you have no idea? You’re not paying attention when she drops you off?”
Troy: “I am, but I can’t remember. Dada?”
Me: “Yes?”
Troy: “Did you know sloth bears are called ‘sloth bears’ because they have claws like sloths?”
Me: “I did not. I thought they were called that because they were lazy.”
Troy: “And did you know that they can actually close off their nose to create a vacuum to suck termites out of their mound?”
Me: “Nope. That’s news to me too. I think this is the door here. I see someone standing inside.”
Troy: “Yeah, that’s definitely the door.”
Me: “Maybe I should go ask someone. You’re not exactly a reliable source.”

The Little Marshmallow

Troy: “We had a mystery reader come to our class today.”
Me: “Really? Cool! Who was it?”
Troy: “Oliver’s mom.”
Me: “What book did she read to you?”
Troy: “It was a book about a marshmallow who made some new friends.”
Me: “I see. Was it other marshmallows or something else?”
Troy: “He was already friends with the other marshmallows in his bag, and then he got out of his bag into the store and made other friends.”
Me: “Who did he make friends with?”
Troy: “A grape who became a raisin, a broken pretzel, and a roll of toilet paper that everyone thought was a giant marshmallow.”
Me: “Did they have eyes and arms and legs and stuff?”
Troy: “Yeah, except the toilet paper. He didn’t have any legs. He just rolled around. And he helped the little marshmallow get back into his bag for the night. And the little marshmallow told both his old friends and his new friends goodnight.”
Me: “He just jumped on top of the other marshmallows?! So, he was basically sleeping in a marshmallow bed. I wonder what that feels like.”
Troy: “I bet it’s soft and squishy.”
Me: “Yeah, and I bet it smells good too.”
Troy: “I’d want to eat it.”
Me: “Me too. At first, I’d just take a nibble. But then, after I had a taste of it, I’d want more…and more…until I ate the whole bed! Then, all of the marshmallows would be on the inside, and then I’d be their bed. I’d be a dada bed…a fat dada bed.”
Troy: “That’s weird.”

Feeling Strange

Troy: “Dada, I feel strange.”
Me: “Well, quit touching yourself.”
Troy: “I’m not touching myself.”
Me: “Then, how do you know you feel strange?”
Troy: “I just do.”
Me: “The only way you’d know for sure is if you were touching yourself.”
Troy: “I’m not touching myself! My hands are up in the air!”
Me: “Then, I’ll ask again, if you’re not touching yourself, then how do you know you feel strange?”
Troy: “It’s not me, it’s my body.”
Me: “Then, quit touching your body.”
Troy: “I’m not touching my body!”
Me: “Okay, but I don’t see how that will work. You can’t know you feel strange, if you’re not touching yourself. But okay.”

Divorce: Kinder Edition

Me: “How’s your wife? You haven’t mentioned her in a while. Did she go anywhere for the holidays?”
Troy: “Oh, we’re not together anymore. We got a divorce.”
Me: “What?! What happened?”
Troy: “Oh, I like this other girl in another class.”
Me: “Oh my gosh! How did Reagan take the news? Is she okay?”
Troy: “She’s fine. She said she liked someone else too. But we’re still friends.”
Me: “Well, that’s good. I’m glad you’re still friends. But I’m sad that you broke up. She’s was a sweet daughter-in-law…while it lasted.”

The Butler, the Maid, and the Pig

Over the last few months, I have started to feel like I have three full-time jobs. I get up every morning at 6:00 am and work on breakfasts and lunches for both Troy and my wife. Then, I get Troy up, feed him, brush his teeth, get him dressed, and comb his hair before heading off to pack his backpack. Sprinkled in among these tasks are requests from my wife like helping her put her bra strap thingy on or helping her with her sock on her bad leg. Much to my son’s delight, I’ve actually embraced the Mr. Butler moniker, feeling like a servant that is at everyone’s beck and call, while also being responsible for making sure things run smoothly and on time.

After I finally manage to wrangle them out of the house, I go to my second “job.” I wash dishes, sweep the floor, make the beds, straighten up the toys and pillows in the den, and work on the laundry. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, I’ll get started on these before they leave, and I’ll be both butler and housemaid at the same time! Sometimes, these jobs take all day to actually complete, so I’m constantly running up and down the stairs to chip away at them in between meetings. Every other Friday, the actual maid comes to do a deep cleaning on the house, so I get the added bonus of picking up everything and putting it away, so she won’t just clean around it.

And finally, I go to the only job I actually get paid for…bringing home the bacon, if you will. From 8:30 am to 2:00 pm, I manage projects, build integrations, manage a team of 25, attend an endless number of useless meetings, coddle my clients, and solve all the world’s problems as the Wizard of Oz. Then, I transform back into the butler and head off to sit in a car line at Troy’s school for an hour and a half. Most of the time, I’m still answering inquiries, dealing with issues, and taking meetings from the car line, so it gets a little blurry which job I’m doing..sort of a butler…wizard pig crossover. I then drive Troy to his after school playcare, before sitting in the parking lot and practicing his reading with him. And then, it’s back home to continue working at my bacon job for another three hours.

Usually, before I’m done, Troy and my wife will get home. I’ll wrap up and head down to feed Troy, bathe him, brush his teeth, read him a book, put him to bed, and sit with him in the dark until he falls asleep. When I finally wander back downstairs, it’s around 10:00 pm. I’ll take the next hour or so to read my Bible, watch part of a movie, and generally unwind. And the next day, it all starts over again! I have a new-found appreciation for single parents. My hats off to all of you out there. You are an inspiration to us all!